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peachesofteal · 1 year

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Dead Disco / Chapter 3

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.8k words - A03 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI, established throuple, relationship issues, eating issues, depression, anxiety, angst, reader is bad at feelings, caretaking, bathing, blow jobs, face fucking, praise kink, emotional hurt/comfort. The guys find you at the hotel.

When you open the door, Johnny’s heart breaks.

It’s obvious you haven’t been well. The circles under your eyes are sickly and off color, worse than when you stay up to wait for them to get home, and you look weary, overwhelmed, exhausted. Your hair is stiff, pulled out of your face but heavy around your forehead, and your skin is dry, an easy tell that you haven’t been drinking enough water. Johnny suspects that your clothes are dirty as well, judging by the stain on the front of your shirt above your breasts, and his heart skips when he realizes it’s his old t shirt, the one you usually wear around the flat. It all makes Johnny’s head spin, makes him feel like he’s got a thousand pounds sitting on his chest and when he looks closer, he can just see the broken capillaries spreading across your cheeks like spider’s webs. Did they do this to you?

“Oh, love.” He whispers. Your eyes water, and he feels the weight of his own fear, his own sadness tenfold. You’re hurting. You’re hurting so badly. How did they not see this?

“Let us in.” Simon demands, and you chew on your lip. “Please. Whatever it is, we can fix it darling. Just let us in.” Simon’s voice softens, slipping into something he only reserves for you, and Johnny reaches for your hand, it’s ice-cold chill startling against his own.

When you don’t pull away from him, a small seed of hope blooms in his heart.

Something wakes him from his sleep. Maybe it’s the low drone of the television from the living room, or the fact that the middle and left sides of the bed are completely empty. He sits up, groggily, straining to listen, but all he hears is the laugh track of a sitcom.

When he enters the living room, he raises an eyebrow. Simon is sitting in his boxers, on the floor, back against the couch, remote in one hand, and your hand in other. Your fingers look so small intertwined with his, your arm draping down over his shoulder from where you’re lying on your belly, mouth open, dead asleep. He rubs his eyes.

“What’s this?” He keeps his voice low.

“She couldn’t get back to sleep. Didn’t want ta wake you, but she was keepin’ me up, thrashing around.” Johnny frowns. He traces a thumb across your forehead, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Simon strokes his fingers up his thigh, rubbing the back of his leg, his skin hot in the thick of the summer night. He glances at the clock on the stove before settling on the rug too, notching his head next to your arm, and Simon shifts to accommodate him before turning to press his lips against his forehead.

“Was it a nightmare?”

“She’s still havin’ em.” Simon whispers, and he leans to pull him closer. “Didn’t want to talk about it.” He sighs.

“What’re we watchin’?”

You settle on the edge of the bed, pulling your knees up to your chest, eyes unmoving from the floor. Simon stands against the dresser directly in front of you, arms crossed, body stiff and thrumming with concern, strung tight with stress. The room is quiet, lit only by a small lamp that you have flicked on, and he tries not to look too closely at anything, at this place you’ve been living in when you should have been at home.

“Love?” Johnny clears his throat, sitting down next to you, tilting his head to catch your gaze. He avoids looking at your blood crusted cuticles, or the crescent moon marks that are imprinted in your palms. “When was the last time you ate?” You shrug.

“Yesterday.” Simon shifts his weight, as in tune to the waver in your voice, the tell of the lie, as Johnny is. He shoots Johnny a look, before going down on a knee in front of you, hands gentle, a palm cupping your calf and giving it a squeeze before releasing. You don’t pull away. A knot of tension releases between the two of them.

“Will you tell us why you left?” Johnny tries to keep from pleading, but he knows he will beg you if he has to. Beg you to tell him why, beg you to come home, beg you to let them back in. Your eyes dart back and forth between them, your fingers nervously pulling at the ends of your hair, and Simon cuts him a stern look, a very clear message: Slow the fuck down. Don’t push her. Tears drip over your cheeks onto your knees and then your voice cracks.

“You were g-gone for almost thirty days. What if, what if you never came back? What if you just picked up and left? Started over? You ha- have each other… you don’t need me.” A chasm splits open inside Johnny, splintering across the three of you, the weight of your fear and doubt bubbling to surface, pushing past the truths they’ve worked so hard to make you see.

“We could never do that. You’re a part of us.” Simon’s tone is serious.

“You mean the world to us, darling. We don’t want to live in it without you.” Johnny says, fingers grazing along your shoulder.

“Don’t lie.” You croak, and he frowns.

“He’s not lying.” Simon says but you don’t respond.

“We love you.” Johnny whispers, and your eyes slam shut, tears spilling out between your lashes. “You know that, don’t ya?”

“N-no.” you cover your face with your hands.

“Yes, you do.” Simon pulls one of your hands away from your face, taking it in his own. “I know it’s hard, when we’re away-”

“No you don’t!” you sob as you cut him off. “You have each other! You always have each other. I f-feel… I feel like I’m on the outside.” Your breath hitches. “I always feel like that.” You tell them miserably and Johnny’s heart breaks for you.

“You’re supposed to talk to us, when you’re feelin’ bad about things.” Simon’s voice is gentle, as he tries to soothe you, tries to ground you. “Look at me, darling.” You turn your head, eyes up and full of trust, searching between the two of them.

You still trust him. You still trust Simon. There’s hope.

“I know.” You whisper.

“It doesn’t work unless we’re honest, and we tell each other how we’re feeling, even when it’s like this.” Johnny keeps his tone soft, but it’s heavy with emotion, drowning beneath your own sadness, the feeling of your despair.

"I know that. I do… but it doesn’t change anything.” Panic erupts through his veins like he’s been doused with cold water. Doesn’t change anything? Doesn’t change what? That you left? “It won’t change the fact that I’ll always feel like this… like I’m separate from you.” You blink furiously, tears trickling down your cheeks, chest heaving with shallow breaths, and Johnny feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“Alright, darling. That’s okay.” Simon settles you, and Johnny gives him an incredulous look. Alright? Alright?! On a base level, he knows what Simon is doing, but it does nothing to quell the storm of feelings rising inside of him. They could lose you. What if they can’t fix this? “Johnny’s gonna get ya some food.” He grimaces and pulls his phone free to search for the room service menu, looking for something that will be easy on your stomach without overwhelming you. “D’you think you could manage a shower while we wait for it to be brought up?” He holds his breath. You could say no. You could tell them to get out. It took your deepest level of trust, to let them care for you like this, and in this moment, it felt like it wasn’t there.

When you don’t say anything in response and nod instead, he lets the air leak from his nose slowly.

“A bath.” You whisper, eyes still trained on the floor. You look at them intently for a moment before you get to your feet without another word and disappear into the bathroom. When the door clicks shut, Johnny whirls.

“I want to take her home. She’s not thinkin’ clearly.”

“We have to go at her pace, you heard what she said.” Something sad flickers across Simon’s face before he smooths it away. “She needs time, to remember. That’s all.” He tries to reason, and Johnny knows he’s right, but he can’t fight the burning sensation in his chest when he thinks about how you’ve been alone, in this room, for the last week and half, falling apart without them.

“Si. She…” He doesn’t have to finish the sentence.

“I know, Johnny. I know.” His partner’s fist is clenched around the balaclava, eyes tight with worry. They both look towards the closed door, and then Johnny glances down to the glaring light of his phone.

“There’s no soup.”

“Toast?”

“And a fried egg, if she can get it down.” Simon gives a curt nod of agreement, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted. Yeah?” Johnny presses his nose to Simon’s neck and takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“Yeah.” He motions to the bathroom. “Join ya in a minute.”

By the time he has the food ordered, you’re already sitting in the tub, water thundering from the faucet, knees pulled back up under your chin, skin dotted with goosebumps. There’s enough room for him to get in behind you, like he usually does, but he doesn’t want to push you, so he reminds himself to be patient. Simon is sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, murmuring something softly that you’re occasionally nodding at until you speak.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” You croak.

“It’s alright, darling. We’re just happy you’re safe.” Simon reassures, and when you don’t say anything else, panic swirls in the pit of Johnny’s stomach. Be patient. He needs to be patient.

He can be patient, but he doesn’t have to fight fair. Not when it comes to you.

“Can I wash your hair?” he asks you sweetly, and you nod almost immediately. Later, he hopes, once you’ve pulled out of this and you’re all together again, you’ll give him shit about using your weakness against you like that. He hopes.

You tilt your head back eagerly, eyes slipping closed while the tips of his fingers massage your scalp, and he alternates between soft and firm pressure, making sure he gets the lather as deep into your roots as gently as he can.

“I missed you.” It’s barely a whisper, a light whistle on your lips, but they both hear it, and Simon reaches for your hand, large fingers folding over yours, his touch gentle and slow while Johnny rubs the pad of his thumb along your shoulder blade before he speaks.

“Not as much as we missed you.”

“Oh shit.” You giggle from where you sit between Johnny’s legs and he presses his palm to your mouth playfully, lips grazing along your shoulder. Simon’s footsteps thunk down the hall, his voice calling both of your names.

“Shhh.” Johnny murmurs, the warm bath water wrapping the two of you in a soft, sublime feeling that’s gone straight to his head. When the bathroom door swings open, you raise an arm like you’re dancing, and beam.

“Welcome home!” Johnny tries not to laugh at the serious expression on Simon’s face, and he snakes an arm around your middle to pull you all the way back into his chest.

“Having a relaxing day?” Simon dead pans, and you nod, back of your head against Johnny, face turned upward to stare at Si who’s dressed in uniform, no doubt completely exhausted after a long day of travel to the ‘local’ office and back. Water beads off your skin when you push off from Johnny to rise to your knees, and he can’t help but reach out and trace a line across your hip while your palm slides up the front of Simon’s pants, leaving wet spots in its wake as you lick your lips. Johnny leans all the way back, fitting into the curve of the tub, arms on either side, and watches you pull the zipper down to free Simon’s cock from his briefs. When you glance back at him, he gives you a smile in return, excitement settling in his stomach as he watches you, his own hand sinking beneath the surface of the water to palm his cock, his eyes never leaving where you’re stroking Simon, your head tipped backwards and eyes up.

“Darling…” Simon grunts, the word a harsh exhale, and your mouth cracks into a smile where you’re wrapped around him, your tongue flat against your teeth, jaw relaxed as you work. His hand drifts down to the top of your head when your lips part around length of his cock and a shiver runs down Johnny’s spine, the weight of love, of adoration vibrating in his bones.

His. This was his. You were both his.

Your free hand reaches for him in the water, and he laces his fingers in yours with a reassuring squeeze before sitting up on his knees himself, his body pressing against you, gentle fingers wrapping around your throat to still your motion.

“Hold still, darling.” He coaches, reaching for Simon’s belt loop to pull him closer, folding his grasp along his hip until he’s pressing into the back of your mouth. “Fuck her throat, love. That’s what she wants.” You try to nod enthusiastically, and Johnny chuckles, brushing a kiss across your cheekbone. “Isn’t she sweet?” He asks, and Simon’s hand tightens in your hair, just a tad, enough to hold you steady as he begins to rock his hips back and forth. “That’s it.” He encourages, hand never leaving Simon’s hip, the other still gently cradling your throat. He talks Simon through it the entire time, his own cock hard against the curve of your ass, his thumb occasionally smearing across your lower lip. “Fuck, Si.” He marvels, “Doin’ so good for her. Givin’ her what she wants.” He releases Simon’s hip and strokes a finger down your lower belly and across your thighs before teasing your clit, and your breath stutters through your nose when he presses against the swollen bud, your body tensing against his. He noses along your jaw while he works your clit in a circle, matching his rhythm to Simon’s pace. You make a strangled sound in your throat when Simon slows, and Johnny smirks, mirroring the speed until you’re whimpering, throat stuffed full and your thighs trying to rub together around his hand. He’s not going to let you come, not yet, so he pulls away and you whine, eyes widening in protest, but you stay steady, jaw lax to accommodate Simon, and Johnny praises you. “Good girl. Takin’ him so well.” Simon grunts, and then his mouth drops open as his hips begin to thrust unevenly until he’s coming, a little moan slipping from you when he spills down your throat.

He bends to kiss you afterwards, swiping his tongue into your mouth, lavishing you slowly until you’re pulling at his belt loops again.

“Want to get in?”

“You know I won’t fit, darling.” He perches on the side of the tub, leaning down to brush his lips against Johnny’s, fingers dipping into the heat of the water.

“Well?” Johnny prompts, and Simon grimaces, watching you as he speaks.

“Tomorrow. Sixteen hundred.” He feels your muscles go tense, your languid state draining from your body, tension running through you in its place. He squeezes your arm affectionately, pressing a kiss above your ear.

“It’s alright, love. Won’t be too long.”

“It’s the apartment.” You say quietly from where you’re now laying on the bed, wrapped in a robe with your hair twisted into a towel. You eye the pieces of toast that are on the tray with a sigh. He holds one out to you, like an offering, and your lower lip trembles. “My stomach hurts.” you protest.

“I know it does, love. But you’ll feel better after this, I swear it.” Your hand reaches for his, and his heart soars, but he tempers his relief quickly. “Please? For me.”

“What about the apartment?” Simon interrupts and a shadow moves across your face.

“It was yours, before. It feels like I don’t belong there, sometimes.” Like you don’t belong? The contrast startles him, forcing his spine straighter and he considers your words. How could you possibly believe you don’t belong?

“Then we’ll get a new one.” He blurts, without even fully thinking it through. He only knows he’s desperate to reassure you, desperate to show you that they’d do anything for you. Your face shifts, from forlorn to hopeful, surprise crinkling the corners of your eyes as you glance between them.

“We’ll get a new one.” Simon agrees, and Johnny presses your knuckles to his lips. “You do belong, darling. You belong with us.”

#dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #peaches writes #ghostsoap #john soap mctavish x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap #simon ghost riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap

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certifiedcodbabygirl · 9 months

Note

PREPARE FOR WHIPLASH:

Listen I know I have ✨anxiety✨ but i also have DREAMS SUE ME:

Your husband, Captain MacTavish, walks you to his back porch at night in the MIDDLE OF A SCOTTISH WINTER (holy fuck I’m southern 🤠 I’d die irl) and strips you bare,

Shivering and with wide eyes you pause when he says “Ya have 15 lass, Go.”

You hesitate before scampering off best you can in the snow and ice (trying to not bust ass tbh)

He give you a 5 minutes or so head start before stripping bare also and setting off on the hunt. Isn’t he generous?

It’s not long before he finds you shivering and miserable behind a fallen tree huddling behind a slushy pile of leaves

“Pitiful Mo luaidh, I expected better.”

You’re nervous for his reaction as he throws you over his hot shoulder before you can form a thought, as if the cold couldn’t touch him. You slowly relax into his back for the short walk home.

Your laid on the fur before the fireplace in the living room as his mouth gives you every praise between your legs for being “Such a big girl, braving the cold like that for me.”

His (deep breath) hot, thick cock sliding in and out slowly warming you up inside and out, pinned down in a mating press your body as hot as the fire at this point as he pulls quite a few orgasms from you..

He takes you upstairs for a warm bath and you fall sleep, the cold not touching either of you anymore.

I’m BEGGING for the smut if you like this outline bestie pls 😭 I LOVE CAPTAIN MACTAVISH WITH MY HEART AND SOUL

He's so mean :(

He takes his time finding you, but we all know damn well he already knows where you are. Your breathing is muffled by the snow but he's very intuitive. It doesn't matter if you're from Scottland or not, being naked in that weather rips away any tolerance you may have.

Hands tucked under your armpits, back to a tree, breathing ragged. You're too busy trying to keep even slightly warm to hear his slightly crunched footsteps in the snow. He grabs your wrist before you can even see him and he maneuvers you to throw you over his shoulder.

"Oh fuck!" You yelp as your waist is slung over his back.

He slaps your ass, most definitely hard enough to leave a mark. The walk back to the cabin is quiet, except the occasional groan leaving his lip. The slight drag of your hardened nipples across his back causes his cock to stay at least semi hard despite the cold weather.

The door busts open as you both enter the cabin. He walks to the fireplace and lays you down of the soft rug.

"John, I'm really fuckin-"

"Cold? I ken, lass. Lemme warm ye up, yeah?" He smirks, getting on his knees and lifting your legs over his shoulder.

His hands run up and down your sides, softly grasping your tits. He gives soft tugs on your nipples, laying heated kisses right above your clit. He has you squirming, desperate to get contact. He moves his head to the side, just enough to leave gentle bites on the inside of your thighs. You try to lift your hips, but his hands force them down.

"Gett'n impatient now, hm?", He raises his eyebrow.

"John please" You whine and give a small pout, laying your head on the carpet.

His tongue circles around your clit and gives a soft suckle to the bud. You gasp, hands flying to his hair, gripping his short mohawk. He slaps the side of your thigh, a silent warning to keep your hands to yourself. Your hands leave his hair and find their way to the top of the cushion of the couch behind you. His middle and ring finger prod at your entrance, pushing in with little prep. A high pitched whine leaves you at the intrusion, gripping onto the cushion like a life line. The stimulation to but your clit and your cunt become too much, hips trying move away.

"Dinnae run from me, hen. Thought ya wanted this, hm?" He taunts, face muffled by your pussy.

A drawn out whine rips from your throat as his finger curl repeatedly against the soft, spongey spot inside you. His mouth suckles at your clit with more intensity than before. The tightning in your abs starts coming to it's peak faster than you were ready for. Your cunt squeezes around his fingers, the closer you get to your peak. Before you cum, he pulls his fingers away, licking them clean while you pout at him.

"Dinnae look at me like that. Be a good lass, turn around, and bend over"

"You're being too mean" You say, frowning while leaning onto the couch cushion, arching your back.

Before you can say anything else, he grips your hair and pulls your back to his chest. His arm leaves your hair and wraps around to grip your throat, squeezing enough to make you gasp.

"I'm bein mean, eh? Thought you'd be grateful for what've given ya. Apparently not, greedy girl"

He shoves you forward so that you're forced to be folded over the cushion, a whine forced out of you. He grips your hips and lines is cock up with your wet cunt. he pushes into you, not moving to fast but not giving you a break. Once he's fully in, he slaps your ass hard enough to leave a bruise. He starts a rough pace, leaving no time to adjust. Any whines, moans, or cries are all muffled once he shoves your head into the cushion. His groans and heavy breathing send hot waves to your chest.

"G'd, ya feel so fouckin good, bonnie.", He groans, hand moving to brush your hair off your neck, "Be a good lass and touch yourself f'r me"

You nod as much as you can and move your arm down to draw tight circles to your clit. His thrusts get deeper, more powerful, cock kissing your cervix every damn time. Your orgasm draws closer and closer, whines getting higher and higher pitched. You move your head to the side, trying to warn him.

'J-john, I'm can't- I can't stop, 'm gonna cum" You get out, whines turning to gasp as the warm flooding feeling gets closer and closer, "Fuck!"

Your cries as you cum push him closer and closer to his end, thrusts getting a little sloppy. His back flushes against your as he comes with a deep groan, hands holding onto yours.

"Fuck, sweeh'ert"

As your orgasms fade away, he leaves open mouthed kisses along your spine. He softly lifts you up so your back is to his chest and gently kisses your neck.

"Such a good lass.. C'mon, let's get ya a bath, hm?"

#call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #captain mactavish #captain mactavish x reader #soap smut #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish smut #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

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could you do bratty Eddie were hes feeling upset so Y/N gives him a tit to suck and she rocks him to sleep??

Small blurb

⚠️maybe age play?, Tit sucking

Not proofread

~~~

Everyone has one of those days where nothing is going right, every sound is just too loud, and nothing is comfortable enough to wear. Eddie was overstimulated, and he wasn't sure how to get his mind and body to calm down.

Y/N was still gone at work, Eddie always struggled when she was away, but today was just too hard. She warned him ahead of time that she would be in meetings all day long and couldn't be near her phone to communicate with him during the day. And Eddie didn't react well when she was away from him for too long.

He took three different naps, each time waking up and she still was not home. He cleaned the house, but that barely killed anytime. Tried to draw on the biggest canvas he could find, and that only killed three hours. He was slowly going insane.

He missed her and it sucked that he didn't have the option to even call her. He's not used to being alone for this long, no form of contact with her was messing him up. It messed up the routine.

After a long day, she finally made it through the door, met with silence. Which was strange, Eddie was barely quiet.

"Baby?" She called out, leaving her keys on the counter as she walked through the kitchen.

"Mommy?"

It was quiet, but it was there. She followed his soft response and ended up in the bathroom, Eddie laying there in a bath. Bubbles up to his neck and his hair is tied into a bun.

"Bubble bath kind of day?" She asked, keeping her tone soft and gentle. Eddie only tended to take baths when he had a hard day.

"Yes....I missed you" he pouted, his arms coming out of the warm water to reach for her.

"I missed you too, baby" She giggled, kneeling on the rug near the tub. Allowing Eddie's arms to wrap around her neck, and pulling her close.

"Why don't we get you out of the bath and off to bed?" She suggested, a warm smile as she stood up.

But her suggestion was met with a loud whine. Eddie's puppy eyes looked up at her and a pout on his lips.

"But you just got here, I want to spend time with you, not sleep." He whined. Y/N's heart melted. She adored how much she meant to him, that a day with no communication was hell for him. It was hell for her too.

"We can cuddle and talk, how about that?"

"Yes, mommy" Eddie agreed with a smile, yanking the plug and standing up in the tub.

Y/N smirked at his naked skin, grabbing a towel as he stepped out, drying him off, and wrapping the towel around his slim waist.

He followed behind her with a smile, both reaching the bedroom. She began to pull out her pajamas, and a fresh pair of boxers for Eddie.

"Put these on, baby" she instructed, Eddie dropped his towel, reaching for the boxers and slipping them on.

He crawled into bed, watching as she got undressed and changed. Blushing at the sight of her naked skin. It doesn't matter how many times he sees her like that, he gets nervous every time. Once she began to slip on her tank top, Eddie stopped her.

"Maybe no shirt?" He asked from behind her.

She held the shirt above her head, not quite slipped on.

"And why is that?" She tested, wondering if Eddie would be honest about what he wanted.

"Just please," he tried to beg, but he knew better than that.

"Nah uh, tell Mommy what you want," She said, turning around. Her bare chest facing him, his eyes looking straight to her hardened nipples. He could feel his mouth-watering.

"Wanna.....suck on your pretty tits, please?" he whispered, his eyes still locked on her chest.

"That's my good boy," she whispered, crawling her way on top of the bed. She settled herself comfortably under the blanket. Propping her upper body against the pillows.

"You can suck while mommy reads." She smiled, Eddie smiled, and moved closer to her. Laying on his stomach as he rested his head on her chest, turned his head slightly, and wrapped his lips around her left nipple. Humming at the feeling of her nipple on his tongue.

She giggled as she reached for her book. Eyes looking down at her sweet boy, smiling as his eyes were closed and gentling sucking on her nipple. His hand rested on her neck, feeling her breathe and swallow. She shuffled closer and rocked him a little.

She barely read a full chapter before his breathing got soft and low. His sucking slowly halted to a stop. And she realized, Eddie just fell asleep.

"Falling asleep to sucking my tits and being rocked. How adorable." She smirked, kissing his head as she returned to her book.

Tags!

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@bunnyweasley23 @leahhs-things

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #bratty Eddie #bratty eddie x mommy reader #bratty eddie series

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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months

Note

Could you please write more about pregnant Tiriel? Your writing about her finding out she's expecting and about Astarion hearing the baby's heartbeat were one of my favorites?

Synopsis: Astarion takes care of pregnant Tiriel.

Tags: dadstarion, pregnancy, fluff

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Waiting

“I think I am going to die in childbirth,” Tiriel says, pressing her face to her knees.

Astarion would sigh if he could. Tiriel sits shoulder-deep in a bath of warm water, as the vampire washes her hair and rubs her back.

“You aren’t going to die. You are a half-elf and I am sure the child is rather small. Look at your belly, you are in your last month and it’s not really showing.”

Tiriel turns away. Well, to call her belly small would be an underestimation – her slim body is currently betraying pregnancy. It’s covered in stretch marks that won’t disappear, ever. But again, Astarion has seen many pregnant human women in Daggerlake within the last five years and Tiriel has definitely been spared, carrying someone who takes after their elven ancestors.

But once Astarion thinks he’s managed to cheer her up, Tiriel sniffs.

“What if something is wrong with the baby? You are a vampire! I love you and all that, but you are still undead! What am I even carrying inside? And what if the child is sick? Or deformed? Or…What if it is going to kill me?”

“I can promise you, if something goes wrong, we are saving you,” Astarion splashes water on her hair.

“Thank you.”

He kisses her shoulder. “Don’t worry that much, the last thing you need is to cause a complication.”

Tiriel touches his fingers.

Astarion adds more soap to the tub. The scent of vomit and sweat still lingers on Tiriel’s skin and Astarion takes a clean piece of rug.

Tiriel has been feeling so bad in the last few days she barely left her bed. Her legs hurt, she couldn’t eat without vomiting, and she hardly slept because of back pains. She finally made herself go out that evening to eat properly, but, the moment Tiriel finished her dinner, she felt nauseous and everything Astarion had cooked for her ended up on her home shirt.

That moment, Astarion had enough of that and carried Tiriel to the bath.

“I'm sorry,” she says.

“What for?”

“I look disgusting.”

“Nothing is disgusting about a pregnant woman,” Astarion says, rubbing her left ear. “Besides, I’ve seen and done much worse things than giving a bath to someone I’ve knocked up. Your condition is my fault and I am taking full responsibility! Now, let me wash your front.”

Tiriel presses her back against the tub allowing Astarion to get to her belly and legs. Astarion smiles seeing the visible bump and carefully rubs the skin.

He is so close he can hear the second heartbeat.

It is not clear to him when the child is going to be born. Elves are pregnant for two years, but Tiriel’s body is hardly capable of doing so. Humans need nine months for the same process, but Astarion has learned from the healers in Secomber, the closest big town to Daggerlake, that it’s never clear with half-elves. And it also depends on the child – Astarion tries to think about the baby as an elf with just a bit of human ancestry (still enough to fuck up the gentle elven biology).

But in reality…

The child is half-him, half a vampire anyway. And that should bother him.

He is afraid of that moment. He waits for that moment to come. And he also misses Tiriel in sensual terms. He wants her blood (which is out of reach for him till she stops breastfeeding), he wants her body (they haven’t had sex ever since she got pregnant).

And he wants her to stop being in such pain daily.

“I look ugly,” Tiriel chuckles. “Don’t try to say it’s not true.”

“It's not. You are beautiful!”

Suddenly Tiriel flicks his nose. “My eyes are here.”

Astarion realizes he’s been staring at her swollen breasts and small droplets of white liquid on Tiriel’s nipples.

“Stop all this nonsense, Tiriel!'' Astarion takes her leg and stretches it to wash it better. “I like caring about you. I like how you look. And I absolutely love that it's me who did this to you. It all feeds my vampiric possessiveness, after all!”

“And I love that it was you who did this to me,” Astarion feels Tiriel’s fingers on his cheek.

“Now, get out of the water before it gets too cold!” Astarion brings towels. “Is food still out of the question?”

“I want something hot to drink.”

“I will make you herbal tea, then.”

Astarion, after making sure she is dry, carries Tiriel to bed.

He looks outside. What he loves about his house in the underground part of Daggerlake is the big windows. There is no point in hiding from the sun, and Astarion can enjoy going outside whenever he wants. Besides, the biggest part of the town is underground too, and Astarion also doesn’t feel like an outcast.

And his neighbors have seen much worse things than vampires who know the law.

Suddenly Tiriel yelps. He turns to her and notices the night shirt she’s put on is wet.

But wasn’t Tiriel's skin dry when he took her from the bath?

Tiriel hugs her belly and lets out a cry of pain.

“Tiriel…” Astarion rushes to her. No, not today. He still needs time to get ready.

Tiriel grabs his shoulder. “Go to the healer… I am.. Gods…”

The child has decided to be born today. ------ You can read what happens next in Little Bundle of Darkness --

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guess-my-next-obsession · 8 months

Text

Starlight, Chapter Two:

pairing: fae!ezra prospect x princess!oc (Marigold)

rating: Explicit (18+ only, minors dni, some pretty heavy stuff here (at least for me) just as a warning!, talks of violence/allusions to DV, a brief non-consensual but technically consensual (??) sex scene between Kaius and Marigold, general shit storm of angst piled onto our girl (if you can’t tell i’m in actual pain writing her pain so pls be gentle with me), the romance with ezra is coming i promise!!

wc: 6.2k

series masterlist

I awoke to the sound of a few familiar knocks against the main door of my suite, stone rolling against stone as it opened. My eyes batted open as I lay upstairs in bed pulling the blanket up to cover half my face as a set of footsteps ascended the staircase up to the second floor.

“Princess,” Ezra called, his voice already a strangely soothing balm to my near-constant anxiety. It felt naive and reckless to place this much trust in a man I’d only just met, but I couldn’t find a reason not to. He’d been kind, he’d been helpful, and as far as I could see, he seemed to be the only option for an ally—unless I counted my future husband. And I didn’t. “Miss Drusilla is here to ready you for the ball.”

Wedding, you mean? I murmured to myself.

I tossed my blanket back and slowly climbed out of bed with a stretch. Whatever magic Ezra had worked on me to get me tired forced me into the deepest and most restful sleep of my life. Another thing to like him for. I yawned as my feet padded over the giant blue rug beneath my bed and then cold stone floor before making it to the dark, wooden double doors separating me from my visitors.

Opening the door, I let my eyes lock with Ezra’s--just long enough to ignite a frenzy of sickly tender feelings in my chest--before turning to Drusilla. I gave her an instinctive once over, happy with what I saw. Some color had returned to her naturally pale skin, her purple eyes already a little brighter than earlier. She’d obviously had a bath, her waist-length white hair now swept to the side in a clean braid.

“Hello, Drusilla,” I said, giving her a sincere smile before turning to Ezra. Something more familiar and affectionate warped my smile into a smirk. “Hello, Your Grace.”

“You look well rested,” he said, his eyes subtly combing me over.

“Thanks to you,” I smiled. Ezra seemed to blush, his eyes falling to the floor for a split second before he was turning to the teenager beside him.

“I thought I’d come formally introduce the two of you,” he said, his eyes meeting mine only in short glances. “The ceremony is in two hours, followed by a feast, and then, finally, the ball.”

I felt sick.

“I’ll be returning shortly with the Royal Seamstress to deliver your gown,” he continued, his voice a bit warmer than when he’d started speaking. He must have felt my apprehension. “Until then, I’ll leave the two of you to get acquainted.”

As he turned to leave, I found my lips parting to call for him to stay.

“Thank you,” I said instead. “For everything.”

Ezra gave me a tender, if not weary, smile and nod before making his way down the staircase. Left with Drusilla, the two of us fell into an awkward silence for a beat before I willed myself to forget about my impending doom and speak. “It’s lovely to properly meet you.”

She hurried into a bow, her eyes still struggling to meet mine.

“Please, I don’t have many rules for my handmaids, but I do ask this one thing of you,” I started, my tone gentle as she finally dared to look me in the eye for longer than a second. “Please don’t bow or bother with titles. Back home, our handmaidens were like family, like sisters. We can be like sisters, too, if you’d like.”

“I’ve…always fancied the idea of having a sister,” she said, letting the smallest of smiles grace her face. “But what shall I call you?”

I smiled softly, thinking back to the days spent under the warm sun with my mother and sisters. At the name they gave me. “Call me Mari. It’s what my sisters always called me.”

Mari, it is.“ She smiled, soft and sweet, reminding me of my own girlhood that seemed so far gone and still so near.

“Tell me everything about yourself,” I demanded as I led her into my dressing room. I took a seat at the vanity, fixing my eyes on her through the mirror as she stood behind me, mindlessly finger-combing my curls.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” she admitted.

“Well…are you an only child?” I asked, desperate to keep the conversation away from myself and the festivities she was readying my for.

“I had a little brother, Ash,” she said, reaching over my shoulder to grab a sack of pins. “He passed from a fever not too long ago.”

I frowned, letting my gaze fall to my lap as I considered the idea of losing any of my sisters—even the ever-challenging Octavia who was likely grinning with glee over my current situation—after having lost my mother. I wasn’t sure I’d ever smile again, which made every single smile Drusilla gave me all the more precious.

“I’m very sorry,” I managed. “My mother passed earlier this year. I know how hard it is to lose someone.”

“He would have liked it here in the castle,” she mused, her eyes and hands busy pinning my hair up. “He loved everything to do with knights and armor and danger. Too young to know the truth of it all.”

There was a tragic maturity about Drusilla, as if she was forced into adulthood before she was even a teenager.

“And you? What interests you?” I asked, determined to find a spark of light inside of her so that I could help it turn into a star as bright as the ones in the sky.

“It will sound odd,” she said, as bashful as a child.

“Go on,” I urged.

“I like to study the stars--or at least, one day I would like to. For now, I just observe.”

“There are no books--”

“The library in town burned two years ago,” she said, scowling as if she knew the culprit. “Even then, it was difficult to be let in looking…well, looking like trash.”

“How long have you been on your own?” Her eyes lifted to meet mine, a strange sort of pride glowing on her face.

“Eight years,” she said. “Seven with Ash.”

“That’s a feat I’m not sure most of the guards in the castle could accomplish,” I smiled. “I wish I could have met Ash, given him a home here with you.”

“He would’ve liked that,” she smiled back, her eyes dropping back to focus on her braiding. “I cannot tell you what your kindness means to me. The royals are usually so…cold.”

“Did you know the last King? Or Queen?”

“Only from afar, though I do remember seeing the Queen once as a little girl,” she said, placing the final pin in my hair. “I can’t remember her face, but I remember sadness in her eyes. I suppose I can’t blame her. To rule here…it’s an awful fate.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat at the realization that I was to share that exact fate. Drusilla realized, too, and quickly opened her mouth to apologize but was cut off by the sound of a metal hand knocking on the door.

“Enter,” I called, my voice fragile and on the verge of cracking. Ezra’s eyes were locked on mine even before the door was opened fully.

“I’ve…” He trailed off, noticing how rigid my posture was, how watery my eyes were. “Is everything--”

“You’ve brought my gown?” I managed, forcing my voice into one of feigned strength and dignity. I wasn’t sure if it was possible to maintain the latter anymore.

“Yes,” he nodded, clearing his throat as he turned to the doorway, allowing an old, but regal woman into the room. “Lady Rowena, the Royal Seamstress.”

The Seamstress looked every bit like Kaius, her raven black hair and peircing blue eyes hardly affected by her age. Only her skin gave it away, fine lines and wrinkles all over her face and neck, but she still looked capable of commanding a room. A lifetime ago, she must have been the apple of every evil Lord’s eye.

“Hello,” was all I could manage as her severe eyes studied me. I stood at attention, out of sheer intimidation.

“You’ve lost weight on the journey,” she commented, handing the garment bag previously draped over her arm to Ezra before she came stalking over, walking circles around me. “Good. Your waist is impossibly small. And those hips…those are child-bearing hips.”

I cringed, fighting hard to keep my face neutral as she faced me head on, scanning every feature from my forehead to my chest.

“Pity about the small chest,” she sighed. “Apart from that--perfection.”

“The gown,” Ezra reminded, walking the garment bag over to drape across the back of the chaise near the hearth. Though his motives remained a mystery, as well as his mind, she could tell that he was no fonder of the Seamstress than I was. I couldn’t help letting myself fall a little more into my fondness of him.

“Yes, yes,” she grumbled, her heels clicking against stone as she walked over to the garment bag and opened it, unveiling a terribly boring black gown that looked the antithesis of what I imagined my wedding gown would be. “Made from the finest silk and lace, imported directly from Florere.”

I stared at the gown for a moment, my face blank from apathy and shock. This shouldn’t be my gown. This shouldn’t be my wedding. My mother should be here. My sisters should have stopped my father--

“Princess?” Ezra spoke, bringing me back to the present. “What do you think?

Take it easy on her, his voice rang in my head, causing me to gasp. She’s even worse when insulted.

“It…it is lovely—“

“But?” Lady Rowena scowled, her diamond-blue eyes piercing into mine.

“It’s only—and I don’t mean any offense—“

“On with it, Princess,” the seamstress sighed, rolling her eyes.

“It looks perfect for a bride of Nox, but I am not a bride of Nox. At least, not fully,” I managed. “I would like for that to be represented by my gown.”

“What changes exactly?” Rowena asked through a tight jaw, her patience clearly growing thin. But I had already ventured this far. No sense in backing down now.

“I would like a golden gown,” I said, trying to force confidence into my tone. “And for the veil, I’d like there to be an embroidered sun, as well as stars. After all, this is a union between kingdoms, is it not?”

Lady Rowena eyed me for a moment before seemingly deciding that she approved of my request. Or perhaps she just approved of my courage in making a request to begin with.

“I will see what I can do,” she said, her voice the slightest bit softer than before.

“Thank you,” I said, wishing I sounded just a bit more like her. More like a grown woman who knew her power and owned it. Instead, I could only hear a little girl, desperate for approval.

Lady Rowena gathered the plain black gown and matching veil, slinging the silky material over her arm before giving me a bow and making her exit from my chamber.

Drusilla and I let out a breath of relief at the same time, forcing us to giggle while Ezra lingered by the door.

“She reminds me of the headmistress at the orphanage,” she said, walking with me back to the vanity. I locked eyes with Ezra through the mirror, finding a soft half-smile on his face as he watched us. As if the sight of me laughing--of both of us laughing--brought him peace. I looked away before it got too much to bear. Ezra made his exit a second later.

“Is that a good thing?” I asked with a laugh, finding it easy to do so in her presence.

“Not in the slightest,” she smirked.

We laughed again, the air light with the simple joy of being girls together—one twenty-five and one sixteen, neither quite ready to face the reality of the world we lived in.

“I am very thankful I met you, Drusilla,” I mused, looking at her through the mirror.

My entire life I dreamed of what it would be like to have a younger sister, to care for them the way my sisters cared for me. In Drusilla, I saw that dream start to take form.

“You’re too kind, Mari,” she said, fighting back a toothy smile. “I worry this kingdom will steal that from you.”

I swallowed, my eyes falling to my lap.

“I worry about that, too.”

I took a moment alone after getting dressed to look at myself in the mirror. Dressed up in black, save the changes I’d requested earlier, I looked like I was in mourning. Though in a way, I was. The life I thought I’d live, the man I hoped to meet, the love my household would share--all of it, dead and gone.

But I could not grieve, at least not tonight.

So, I gathered the heft of my skirt and lifted it as I made my way to the hall where Drusilla waited to bid me a goodnight before Ezra led me down to the Main Hall where my husband and our guests awaited my grand entrance.

“Good luck,” she whispered, reaching to tuck a stray curl around my face back to where it belonged.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I managed, giving her a smile that I hoped would convey my gratitude for her company and kind words. I didn’t linger long out of fear that I’d gather the courage to jump from a window, my heels clicking against the stone floor as I made my way to Ezra who stood with his good arm held out to me.

“Shall we?” he purred, and everything about that voice hit me in the chest. This. This is what I should feel for my husband, this is what I hoped as a little girl to feel for him. Soft, sweet, safe feelings, not…fear.

“Off to the gallows I go,” I chided, earning a stern glare as we walked down the hall to the main stairs. “If I can’t joke with you, who can I joke with?”

Ezra warmed at my words. “As long as you learn to whisper. Even if I wasn’t Fae, I could hear you halls away.”

“No one knows who I am,” I rolled my eyes. “Besides, I shouldn’t have to censor myself in my own home.”

“It’ll always be his home,” Ezra warned, his eyes scanning the staircase leading to the Main Hall.

So many guests. So many eyes fixed on me the moment I took the first step. My grip on Ezra’s arm tightened.

I can tell that half of the men here feel very…passionate about you, he purred in my mind. And the women want to kill you.

Is that a good thing? I replied.

“It’s a dangerous thing,” he murmured in my ear, his voice sending a jolt of arousal down to the pit of my stomach. “Smile. Your husband’s watching.”

I fixed my eyes upon a handsome man in blue and black, his bright eyes glistening in the candlelight as he stood in front of an Archbishop clad in dreary gray. So handsome, and yet my gut lurched at the sight of him, my skin crawling with the urge to get away.

“Introducing the new Queen of Nox, Princess Marigold of Solis,” a man bellowed as I made the final step into the room, Ezra’s presence an anchor.

It’ll be alright, Princess, he whispered in my head. I swear.

I hope you don’t take oaths lightly, I chided, earning a small curl of his lips as he walked me down the aisle, unfamiliar faces gawking at every step I took. Can you do the thing where you save me from throwing up all over the floor now?

He let out a breath of a laugh so soft I could have imagined it and let his eyes glow that beautiful liquid gold, the warmth of it pouring over me like a blanket. I squeezed his arm in thanks and took a deep breath as I arrived at the altar, my King grinning at me like I was a jewel.

“Thank you, my Hand. I’ll take my wife from you now,” he purred, taking my arm from Ezra’s. I cringed at the coldness of his hand against my bare skin, at the way he gripped my arm hard enough to ache. “You’re a vision in black.”

I loathe black, I wanted to shout.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I bowed, letting him kiss my gloved hand.

“Shall we, then?” He nudged his chin towards the Archbishop, the old man scowling at me as I met his gray eyes. Giving a weary nod to my groom, I followed him up the small set of stairs leading to the dais with my hand held firmly in his.

“Your Majesty,” the archbishop bowed to my groom and him alone, his eyes never once meeting mine as he began to recite the words passed down from century to century, joining man and wife together under their god’s divine grace. A load of antiquated bullshit that meant nothing to me and my family, who pray to the Goddesses who value true love rather than all of this marrying for power.

It made me hate my father all the more.

When the archbishop was finished, Kaius--my King, my husband--took my face in his hands and stared at me, a wicked grin that promised we’d have fun together. More likely, that he’d have fun with me. I tried not to shudder as he pulled me in and kissed me, his lips soft and skilled and yet I felt nothing but shame. It felt wrong, like my body and soul agreed that I was not supposed to be here. When he pulled away, I forced a smile onto my face, but there was no hiding the tears in my eyes.

“Look at that,” he called out into the dead silent hall, his court and guests looking on with a mixture of awe and pity. “My bride is shedding tears of happiness.”

I wiped the rolling tear off my cheek and lowered my eyes to the floor. I hated the crowd’s staring, hated that my husband was already taking my pain and turning it into something that benefited him.

Eyes up. Ezra’s voice sounded again, only for my mind to hear. Don’t let them see you as a lamb. That voice lowered to a whisper. You’re a golden lion.

I don’t feel like a fucking lion, I griped back, lifting my eyes just to glare at him as he stood by the dais.

“Come, bride,” Kaius looked at me, his eyes sweeping over every feature, that handsome yet vile smirk spreading wider as I fixed a winning smile onto my face. “You are a stunning creature. Dull, perhaps, but…stunning, nevertheless.”

“You are so…generous with your compliments, Your Majesty,” I managed, corralling my restraint and those royal manners I was taught as a girl. Kaius’s responding wink was enough to let me know he saw right through my pretty smiles, but that he didn’t give a shit so long as I fulfilled my half of the bargain. An heir.

“Let us celebrate,” Kaius called out into the pin-drop silent hall as dinner commenced, his eyes dark as they remained on me as they had been all night. “To my beautiful bride and the true love we’ll share.”

“To true love!” the room called back, raising their goblets. I could only manage a murmur of agreement, by body outright refusing to play the role I’d been given. My eyes hadn’t left my plate besides to look to my right at Kaius seated at the head of the table, and directly ahead of me at Ezra who watched me just as carefully as the rest of the room. Only his attention felt welcome--reminded me of my humanity, my humor, my true self.

“My dear,” Kaius purred, lazy and bored and privileged. “Have you met my uncle?” He carelessy gestured at the man sat on the other side of me. I hadn’t noticed him, hadn’t met him, nor did I want to given his predatory gaze as my eyes met his.

“Lord Oziel of the Frostlands,” the old, musty smelling man leaned in and kissed my gloved hand. His face was severe, nothing at all like Kaius’s unnerving beauty. With his thick, raven black eyebrows, his pale and wrinkled jowls, and the odor of booze and bad breath permeating with every word, I found it a feat just to keep what little I had in my stomach down. “That beauty sitting across from you is my wife, Lady Emita.”

My eyes willingly turned from Lord Oziel to his shockingly young and gorgeous wife, Emita. Her skin was as dark as the night sky, her eyes a startling amber that looked like wildfire. Her perfectly symmetrical almond eyes locked with mine, and I offered a smile, hoping to win a friend at court who might understand my current predicament. But Lady Emita offered me no smile, no ounce of warmth or friendliness in her eyes.

“You’re from Solis?” she asked, lifting her glass to her lips. “You look like it.”

“Thank you,” I whispered despite my attempt at confidence.

“I didn’t mean that to be a compliment,” she chuckled, shaking her head as she stared down into the pool or dark red filling her cup. Out of instinct or embarrassment, my eyes flickered to Ezra’s, finding him with a clenched jaw, his fork stabbing at his plate a touch too aggressively for a royal.

“Emi,” Lord Oziel warned, sounding more like her grandfather than anything.

“Pardon me, Your Grace,” she waved a hand I supposed was meant to be an attempt at an apology. “Where I’m from, we don’t waste time with flattery.”

“Where is that?” I asked, my voice edged with frustration and embarrassment and disgust.

“Heims,” she replied. “Your sister…what is her name again, husband?”

“Princess Wilhemina,” I cut in, my heart pounding at the mention of my eldest sister, the future Queen of Heims.

“Yes, yes,” Lady Emita droned. “She is a rare jewel, managing to fit in so well in Heims. It isn’t as…soft as your Kingdom.”

“She is the strongest woman I know,” I managed, my heart calming now that I knew no insults would be hurled at my sister. “But I know many strong women in Solis. In fact, I can’t say that I’ve ever met a land who embraces women in power so much.”

“That didn’t stop your father from sending you off like cattle to the first buyer,” she challenged, her lips curling on one side the same way Kaius’s did when he was thoroughly pleased with the look on my face. That look that screamed naivety.

“You’ve had enough to drink,” Ezra cut in, plucking the goblet from Lady Emita’s grasp without care for the seething look she shot him. “And Lady or not, you’re speaking to your Queen. Mind yourself.”

“My good Hand,” Kaius grinned. “Always doing the work I don’t want to do. Corralling these socialites is no easy task, wife.”

Wife? Property.

“Queen or not--”

Lord Oziel’s kick to her shin under the table was so hard it rattled our plates, my face going pale at the act of aggression, at the way no one in the room paid it any mind. At least Ezra had the decency to let his magic wash away her pain.

She’ll be fine, he assured, his voice a pleasant echo in my mind, clearing away most of the haunting thoughts lingering in my head.

She might have a mouth, but it’s awful that Kaius allows him to treat her like that, I replied, lowering my eyes to my plate. Any idea why she hates me?

The North has always envied the South, he said. They think you’re untried, soft, naive.

And you?

For a moment, when I first met you, he replied while shoveling food into his mouth as ungracefully as I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure why that made me like him more. But that judgment has long been wiped away.

I haven’t managed to win over my husband so easily, I chided, managing a bite of my own food. The first bite I’d eaten since…I couldn’t remember. Time felt so strange here, as if it was frozen and sped up all at once.

He looks happy, he offered. That’s as much as you can expect from him.

I expected him to be in love with me, I snapped, hating that in all my loathing and disgust, I still yearned for my husband’s approval.

Kaius might not be in love with you, but he is in love with the fact that every single man in this room can’t take their eyes off of you, he replied, stabbing another piece of steak with his fork. Goddess above, I couldn’t stop watching him eat like an animal. Couldn’t stop imagining what else he’d do like one.

All but you, I irresponsibly purred back, eyes fixed on him from across the table. Ezra’s eyes finally, albeit slowly, lifted to meet mine, dark brown meeting amber as I stared back. His stare flickered to my lips before lifting again, a subtle, hardly there smirk growing on his face.

Do you like having my eyes on you, Princess? His voice was like a drug at this point, but when he lowered it like that…I worried I might be beyond the point of help when it came to my addiction to it.

Do you want me to like it? I asked, twisting my mouth to control my growing smile as I let my eyes fall to my plate, my fork batting a few peas back and forth.

I want you to yearn for it, he managed, his voice strained with something akin to desperation.

I didn’t have time to tell him I already did before my husband dropped his fork to his empty plate and announced dinner was over, not caring if the rest of the room hadn’t finished their meals, and that the ball would soon commence.

“My bride, would you care to join me on the veranda?” Though I did not want to do anything of the sort, as if I had a choice, at least he went through the motions of asking.

Say no, Ezra warned, not at all like a General or the King’s Hand, but as a friend.

I said nothing in response, not willing to take the chance on what would happen if I denied my King anything, especially in front of his court, and accepted Kaius’s hand.

Marigold, Ezra called again, his voice only mine to hear. I felt guilty ignoring him, but if Lady Emita showed me anything, it was that these people did not care what happened to me. Kaius could do whatever he wanted, and they’d turn a blind eye. So, I followed my husband toward the veranda, allowing the ice cold to whip across my exposed skin.

Kaius was quick to pull me off into the shadows, where no one could see us. I couldn’t even see him as he leaned in to kiss me, a real kiss this time compared to the one we shared at the altar. His teeth bit at my lip and tongue as I struggled to keep up, struggled to want him.

“Shall we consummate our marriage here, in front of our guests?” he rasped into my ear, his hands wandering greedily. “Do you want them to hear us? Hear my name coming from your lips?”

I certainly did not.

“Bedroom,” I managed, breathless and dizzy and full of shame. “I want to go to your bedroom.”

Kaius had the audacity to look disappointed, but quickly grunted his agreement and tugged me back inside the warmth of the main hall. All eyes remained on us as he practically yanked me into the King’s corridor, a long, dark hall that connected his private wing to the rest of the castle.

“Don’t get used to calling the shots,” he warned, stalking down the hall in front of me. “I’m not usually so…submissive.”

As if I needed reminding of his affinity for dominance.

Though I’d never been touched before, at least not to this extent, I knew enough from my older sisters to know that I should be feeling at least a morsel of pleasure, but at best, sex seemed to feel more uncomfortable and foreign than anything else. It felt like a piston moving inside of me every time his hips snapped into mine. Not excruciatingly painful, but not pleasurable in the slightest.

But I didn’t let it show out of fear of bruising the King’s ego.

“Look at you,” he panted, reaching his large hand down to cradle my face as he drove into me, my overdramatic moans no doubt spurring him on. “So desperate for it.”

I held back my scoff. The only thing I was desperate for was for this to end. For me to fall pregnant with a healthy heir on the first try so I never had to do this again.

I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that men kill for this, start wars over this, give up every shred of moral decency to do this very act. It must feel dramatically different for them, otherwise, I’d think they were all severe masochists.

“Open your eyes,” he snarled, slipping his hand from my cheek to my throat. My eyes flashed wide with fear as he squeezed, not enough to hurt me, but enough to show me just how easily he could. “That’s better.”

Goddess, how much longer would this go on?

As if reading my mind, Kaius bottomed out in me with a groan loud enough to hurt my ears, his body falling forward to cover mine. I waited there, absolutely still beneath him as he caught his breath, waiting for him to roll over onto his side so that we could go to sleep and, hopefully, never have to do that again.

“Virgins are always so much better,” he mused as he finally rolled over, making my skin crawl. I turned onto my side, studying him in all his post-orgasmic bliss and wondered how such an attractive man could be so nauseating. “Would you like me to…call someone?”

I laced my brows together. “For…”

“To escort you back to your chambers,” he replied, as if it was obvious. “You didn’t think you’d be sleeping in my private quarters, did you?”

“I assumed--”

“Try not to do that,” he grunted, climbing out of bed and throwing his midnight blue, velvet robe on before pouring himself a drink.

I looked over at the ornate candle holder on the bedside table and considered throwing it across the room at him, but managed to refrain.

“Are you going to answer me?” he snapped, glaring at me from across the room. “Escort or no?”

“Oh,” I managed. I didn’t want some guard walking me back to my chambers in uncomfortable silence while I…processed the night. “I’ll manage on my own.”

“Good,” he nodded, tilting his chin towards the door. “You can go, then.”

Though I yearned to move quickly, my body wasn’t so ready for the hustle. I slowly climbed out of bed and ignored the sticky mess between my thighs as I slipped on my wedding gown that suddenly felt a lot heavier than before in more ways than one. Without so much as a goodbye, Kaius watched me leave from over the lip of his crystal glass, his eyes almost predatory. I knew instantly that I’d played my part too well.

He’d come back for more, heir or not.

I only allowed myself to breathe once the stone door of his chambers had closed, the cool air of the night drowning out the smell of his fine cologne still burning my nostrils. The guards posted along the halls of the King’s quarters didn’t look me in the eyes as I passed them, but I could still feel their desire. It made me feel sick in a way I never had before, knowing that if given a chance, each and every one of them would take it. Even if I had just been with someone else. Even with the tears streaming down my face.

I shattered completely the minute I turned down the hall and found I was finally alone. It was all I could do not to curl up in a ball in the middle of this cold, dark corridor and weep.

I wanted my mother. I wanted to fall into her arms and sob. I wanted to hear her voice and know that good things still existed in this world. But I was alone, and I’d always be.

As I descended the staircase to the second floor, I could hear the festivities still raging on in the grand hall below me. The world still turned, no matter how frozen in time it was for me.

“Your Highness?”

My head whipped in the direction of a familiar voice. Ezra stood in the shadows of a corridor near the landing at the bottom of the grand staircase, but he wasn’t alone. Still pressed against the wall stood a breathless, flushed Lady of the Frostlands. Lady Emita.

I felt sick again, for an entirely new reason. I hated her out of sheer jealousy, my eyes sharp as I ignored Ezra’s shocked stare. And then I hated myself for being so childish, so selfish. She was just a young woman, my age or even younger, trying to distract herself from her own brutal reality with a more age appropriate, more handsome, and charming man.

I just wished it hadn’t been Ezra.

“I…” I started to speak but couldn’t get the words out. My hand gestured up the staircase, towards where the King remained, basking in the afterglow of his pleasure while I…

Ezra’s face turned from shock to guilt before setting on rage, darkness so black it was blue pooling in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he managed through gritted teeth, staying frozen just a foot away from his blushing mistress.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied, my voice strained as my throat tightened. He didn’t seem to believe me, but I couldn’t blame him given the tears still streaming down my face.

“Let me walk you to your chamber,” he offered, tipping his chin towards the corridor. Lady Emita clicked her tongue at him, clearly growing impatient, but he didn’t look her way. His dark eyes remained locked on mine. “With so many guests still on the grounds—“

“No,” I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat as I walked down to the landing with my chin held high, my jealousy so rampant I wondered if my amber eyes had turned a shade of green.

Standing closer to him, I could smell the wine on his breath, could see the remnants of lust in his eyes. I fought the urge to vomit at the thought of what I would have seen if I had stumbled upon the two of them just a few minutes later.

“Besides,” I said, my tone icy, my eyes still sharp. “It seems as though you’re currently busy.”

“It’s my duty to ensure your safety,” he countered, still not so much as glancing at his mistress. “I will never be too busy to tend to you, Your Highness.”

“I don’t need tending to,” I gritted out. Unlike Ezra, I couldn’t help but to constantly glance at Lady Emita. And unlike Ezra, I could see just how unwilling she was to share him.

“Princess,” he cooed, his eyes finally warming as he took one step away from Lady Emita and one step closer to me.

“I am not a princess. I am your queen,” I said, my voice on the verge of cracking. “That will be all for tonight.”

Though his lips parted to speak, I didn’t wait to hear what came out of them. I turned and let the sound of my heels drown out their lovers quarrel as Lady Emita finally spoke, cursing him with words so colorful I knew they could have only come from her crass husband.

I didn’t let myself cry until I was shut inside the confines of my suite, too fearful that Ezra had stubbornly followed me to ensure my safety. Too sick to sleep and too tired to think, I made myself comfortable in front of the fire in the sitting room, one of my mother’s favorite books in my hands until the world around me looked less cold and more like home.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra prospect x oc #ezra x oc #ezra prospect #starlight

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monsterfloofs · 2 years

Text

(A lot of life things have been happening lately that has left my mind in a dizzying spiral. So here is a soft short piece mainly focusing on Luxe, just before the main protagonist shows up. ^-^ )

Bubbles in the glossy sheen of transparent rainbows froth and roll in gentle sweeping mountains. A few free floating spheres shimmering daintily in midair. A dusty purple clawed hand reaching up to gently balance one on the tip of their finger.

Luxe stares at the glassy sphere of prismatic colors, bringing their hand to their lips to softly blow on the fragile sliver of soap.

They watch it bob up back into the air, giving a little twirl before it pops out of existence. They lean back into the froth and frown to themselves. Their spaded tail curling back and forth on the floor underneath the clawed feet of the bath.

They snap their fingers, and with a shuddering shuffle, the white wallpaper and plain objects in the room change color to a pale baby blue.

They survey the room and scowl, throwing their head back on the head rest of the bath. Tail flicking with sudden agitation.

“No. . . not even redecorating will make me feel better.” They shift, letting their body sink deeper into the water, as their face becomes wreathed by silky bubbles.

“Tragedy. . . A human is to be influtrating our walls within only a few hours time. . . I need to figure out how to get rid of them, before chaos ensues.”

“S-surely you aren’t serious,” Eyes closed, a previous conversation and image fills the concubus’ mind.

“Of course I am,” A cool voice intones, a soft chuckle on the very edges, “In fact, I think this shall be very good for all of us.”

Luxe had smoothed out their expression, taking a polite bow. “. . . Very well then, my liege,” They glance up at the large lounging figure. “Then. . . shall you allow me to test them? And make sure their intentions are true?”

The jingle of beaded jewelry sounded with a shake of the head. A clear no.

“I’m afraid that would scare this particular one away. We must try our best to make them comfortable.”

Turquoise eyes flutter open, staring at the ceiling with gentle floating bubbles.

“Scare them away. . .” Luxe murmurs softly, “That wasn’t what I had in mind to be honest. . . I was thinking more on the idea of putting them into an unending bind of pleasure. . . surely that would keep them busy enough that they wouldn’t cause any disturbances. Perhaps ruin a few sheets but. . . At least they would be distracted.”

Luxe pouts as they think about it more, “Well, I thought it was a good idea.” They blink, eyes shifting to a little bell that sits beside the tub on an elegant side table. The crystalline gently begins to tremble, then slowly raises up from the table, pulled up by an invisible sting. the bell swinging back and forth with a dainty tinkle.

“The show goes on I suppose.” They slowly rise out of the water, pulling a lilac towel to them and stepping down onto a fluffy rug.

With a snap of their fingers their hair is dried and they shrug on their uniform. Giving one longing look back at the bubble bath that is now left abandoned and draining.

Waiting at the entrance to introduce the resident and give them a tour of the castle. They squint and open up a pocket watch, “. . . Fashionably late are we. . .” They murmur to themselves under their breath.

“I’m sorry!” A breathy voice makes the concubus look up from their watch, taken aback at the figure that is quick to run and join them. Huffing in big gulps of air.

“I was— I had— Wanted to— First impression!”

Luxe scrunches their nose and tilts their head, trying to make sense of what had just been said. “I. . . Beg your pardon?”

The figure hangs their head and thrusts out their hands, a basket clutched tightly in their hands.

“I wanted to bring a gift! I wasn’t sure what to get— So—”

“Just breath dear, rest a moment,”

“Th-Thanks-”

The concubus takes the basket as the figure puts a hand to their heart, and breathes deeply.

“Okay— whew! What I was trying to say— I’m sorry I’m late, I wanted to stop by the market and bring something as a thank you but ah. . . I got delayed in choosing what to bring.”

Luxe’s eyebrow raises, a finger tip raising the basket lid to reveal a container filled to the brim with pastries. They blink, once again taken aback.

“I uh. . . brought. . . a little bit of everything?”

They couldn’t be all poisoned, could they? That would be a lot of work. . .

Luxe smiles gently, and lets the lid fall. “Very well then. I shall be sure to let the staff know you have brought a gift with you.”

They stare at the bright and hopeful expression the human was giving them, before suddenly turning shy and shuffling their feet.

“I ah— know it’s not much, but I hope they like it.”

Luxe eyes flicker to the basket again. Not much. . . ? Was it customary to give such grandiose presents? Did this pale in comparison to what they had intended to bring?

Luxe found themselves saying, “I am sure they will enjoy them immensely, usually we are not able to enjoy human sweets.”

Another bright and hopeful expression, “I. . . I could go and get more. . . if you’d like! It’s on the way here!”

Luxe gives an amused huff, “I. . . don’t think that’s necessary dear, you will be staying here from now on. I heard it is quite a walk to the nearest town.”

The human flusters and rubs the back of their neck in embarrassment, Luxe’s eyes crinkle at the reaction.

Judging by the reaction. . . it looks like they are easily flustered. . . Perhaps they can dissuade the human before they are even let inside.

A mischievous smile crosses their face, smoothing their hand up their collar.

“You hadn’t been told this?”

Luxe reaches out to box in the human, leaning closer. The large basket sandwiched between them.

“Why of course dear. . . this is your home now, but of course. . . if you happen to feel lonely I—“

In a reaction that shocks both of them, the human’s hands had reached to hold onto the other side of the basket, one hand reaching into it, taking out a pastry. Intending to give it to them as a peace offering, this action offshoots and boops Luxe in the nose with the treat, causing the concubus’ eyes to widen and flicker, two small hearts forming in their eyes. Luxe stares confounded at the human, who peeks up to look back at them.

The human, judging by their expression, had realized they had just smashed a pastry into the face of someone above them looks utterly horrified.

Luxe’s expression wobbles, their attempt to shake the quirky creature had been thrown out the window. The demon laughs, and loudly, leaning back to wipe apple jelly from their nose and mouth as the human dithers and raises the basket in defense.

“I-I- I AM SO SORRY—“

“No, no, I apologize. That was profoundly unprofessional of me.” They turn elegantly on their heels, turning to push open the door. “Let me redeem myself by showing you around.”

Luxe’s tail trailed behind them, the very tip of the tail brushing against the human's thigh. They keep their eyes forward, a very faint blush lining their cheeks.

Luxe stands in front of their vanity mirror, hands resting on the edge of the table. After showing the human around, they had given them a room on the main floor and had retired themselves to their own.

Luxe stared into the tiny dark hearts in their reflected eyes.

“Well. . . it’s been a while since this has happened.” They huff, and lean closer to scrutinize their reflection. “A silly creature is cute, yes, but that may just be a ruse. I will. . . have to keep a close eye on them. . .”

And kept a close eye, they did.

#monster x reader #monster x human #incubus x human #incubus x reader #concubi x reader #concubi x human #exophilia #sfw

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callsign-owl · 1 month

Text

A Mother's Love

Edinburgh, Scotland - 1990

The nursery was bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, its warm rays filtering through the lace curtains and casting delicate patterns on the floor. The room was filled with the gentle sounds of a lullaby playing from a small music box. May stood by the window, cradling Owl in her arms.

May’s face was etched with a deep, weary sadness. Her eyes, once filled with the fire of rebellion and adventure, now reflected a profound sense of internal conflict as she gazed down at her baby boy. Owl’s tiny hand reached up, grasping at her finger with surprising strength for such a small child, his innocent green eyes—so much like her own—looking up at her with pure trust and love. The sight of her baby’s trusting gaze made her heart ache, a pang of guilt stabbing through her as she realized how much she struggled to connect with the little life in her arms.

From the corner of the room, the sound of small, hesitant footsteps made May turn. Percival, her firstborn, stood in the doorway. At just five years old, Percival was the picture of innocence—a well-behaved, polite child who always tried to do what was expected of him. He had a quiet demeanor, with a softness in his eyes that reflected his kind nature. Dressed in a neatly pressed navy-blue sweater and matching shorts, Percival looked like the perfect little gentleman, just as Bartholomew demanded.

“Hello, Mama,” Percival said softly. He shuffled closer, his gaze flickering between his mother and Owl, who was now starting to fuss in May’s arms.

“Hello, darling,” May replied, her voice gentle but strained. She gave Percival a small, tired smile, trying to push away the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume her. “Did you have a good day, my love?”

Percival nodded earnestly, his chubby little hands clasped in front of him. “Yes, Mama. I played with my soldiers, and I made a castle out of blocks. But…” he hesitated, “I heard you and Papa shouting again. Are you and Papa angry at each other?”

May’s heart clenched at the innocence in his question, the way he looked up at her with such open, trusting eyes. She knelt down, balancing Owl on her hip as she reached out to gently cup Percival’s cheek with her free hand. “Oh, Percival,” she murmured, her voice tinged with regret. “Your father and I… we just have different ways of seeing things, that’s all. But you don’t need to worry about that, sweetheart. That’s for grown-ups to sort out.”

Percival nodded and then glanced at his brother, who had settled down a bit, his tiny hands now playing with the edge of his mother’s blouse. “Can I hold *redacted*, Mama?” he asked, his voice filled with the pure, unfiltered affection that only a child could have — the innocent longing to connect with his baby brother

She gently lowered herself to sit on the plush rug, guiding Percival to sit beside her. “Alright, but be very gentle, Percival,” she instructed softly. She carefully positioned Owl in Percival’s lap, supporting the baby’s head as she did. Percival’s face lit up with joy, his hands cradling Owl with all the care his little body could muster.

“Hello, *redacted*,” Percival whispered, his voice full of awe as he looked down at the tiny face of his brother. “I’m your big brother, and I’m going to take care of you. I promise.”

May watched them, her heart aching with a mix of love and sorrow. Percival’s innocence, his pure-hearted desire to protect and care for his brother, was both beautiful and heartbreaking. She hadn’t wanted to be a mother, had never thought she could be a good one. And now, with the weight of Bartholomew’s expectations and the suffocating demands of this life, she feared she was failing her children—these two innocent souls who deserved so much more than she felt capable of giving. She wanted so desperately to be the mother they needed—the mother they deserved.

As she watched Percival gently stroke Owl’s tiny hand, May felt a tear slip down her cheek, quickly wiping it away before Percival could notice. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Percival’s forehead. “You’re such a good big brother, Percival. *redacted* is lucky to have you.”

Percival looked up at her, his eyes shining with pride. “And we’re lucky to have you, Mama,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

May’s breath hitched, and she forced a smile. “Thank you, my darling,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She knew she should feel lucky—lucky to have these beautiful children, to have this life. But the truth was, the more she tried to force herself to fit into this role, the more she felt herself slipping away.

As Owl began to fuss again, May gently lifted him from Percival’s lap, cradling him close to her chest. She could feel the familiar tug of restlessness, the yearning for the freedom she had once dreamed of. But looking at her children, she also felt the crushing weight of responsibility, the knowledge that they needed her—needed a mother who could love and care for them unconditionally. But she was also acutely aware of her limitations, the deep-seated fear that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to give them what they truly deserved. The thought made her heart ache, a dull, persistent pain that never seemed to go away.

“Percival, why don’t you go and play with your soldiers again, hmm?” she suggested, her voice gentle but strained. “Mama needs to put *redacted* down for his nap.”

Percival looked up at her, his brow furrowing slightly, as if sensing that something was wrong. But he nodded obediently, “Okay, Mama,” he said quietly and left the nursery to go to his room.

May watched him go, her heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. She wanted to call him back, to pull him into her arms and hold him close, to tell him that she loved him more than anything in the world. But the words caught in her throat, unable to pass the barrier of her own internal turmoil. She turned her attention back to Owl, who was beginning to drift off to sleep in her arms. She rocked him gently, humming a soft lullaby under her breath, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts and doubts. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up this charade, how much longer she could pretend to be the mother they needed when she felt so lost and broken inside.

As she laid Owl down in his crib, carefully tucking the blanket around him, May stood for a moment, watching her baby sleep. His tiny chest rose and fell with each soft breath, his face peaceful and content. It should have brought her comfort, should have made her feel fulfilled. But all she felt was an overwhelming sense of emptiness, a hollow ache that gnawed at her soul. She loved Percival and Owl, she truly did—but she wasn’t sure if love alone would be enough to save her.

#call of duty #call of duty oc #my ocs #oc rp #original character

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plisuu · 2 years

Note

happy friday! sending you “you’re welcome to stay, if you want. “ for connor :)

Thank you!!!! Here is some Solas/Connor comfort for your troubles.

wc: 1111 @dadrunkwriting

Solas knocked on the door before opening it, a cold gust of wind meeting his bare skin and seeping through his thin tunic as he stepped into the Inquisitor’s quarters. "Inquisitor?" He called as he ascended the final few stairs, taking a look around. The bed was unmade, pillows scattered across the floor, and the edge of the rug was kicked up, the entire thing askew and chaotic in what was usually a tidy room. He padded further inside. The fire was barely more than embers in the hearth and pens lay scattered, still wet with ink. The candles remained lit, melted nearly down to stubs, but the room's inhabitant was not in sight. Solas thought it unusual as he skirted around the desk—the Inquisitor rarely left his belongings unorganized. The doors of the balcony were open just a crack, snow drifting inside to settle on the furniture, and the elf wondered why they had been left so carelessly ajar. He stepped out into the bitter chill, and at first glance it seemed desolate. Worry began to sink into the pit of Solas' stomach as he peered over the edge of the railing into the dark, letting out a sigh and turning on his heel when he saw it—a large heap of blankets huddled along the wall, hidden behind the stained glass doors.

He crouched down, carefully shifting away layers of wool until he was greeted by Connor's nose, which was red and chaffed from the cold as he gripped the blankets around himself, eyes glassy and red-rimmed from what Solas could only assume had been crying. "Inquisitor," he said carefully, voice soft and low. He conjured a light and reached for the veil to impart a bit of extra warmth into the heavy fabrics that the large man had bundled himself in. "What are you doing out here?" "I could ask the same of you," came the whispered reply as Connor pulled the blankets back over his face, but said no more. Solas sat beside him, ignoring his quickly dampening backside as a layer of snow melted beneath him. They sat in still silence for what could have been minutes or hours, Solas occasionally warming the air around them as he stared into the stars. Eventually, Connor shifted and Solas tentatively reached out, placing a hand on his companion’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Although we could sit here and count the stars until sunrise,” he said softly, “it might do you well to come inside.” Connor gave a short nod in response, slowly rising alongside him. “You’re warm,” the large man mumbled as he laced his stiff fingers through Solas’s offered hand. “I do have the benefit of only sitting in the snow for a fraction of the time you have,” the elf chuckled, leading him back into the room and closing the door behind them, stoking the fire back to life with a wave of his hand. “And I have methods of staying warm. If you’d like, I could teach you—“ “No!” Connor recoiled from Solas’s grip as if he had been burned. The flame of the hearth flickered wildly with his outburst and the lamps around the room burst into light he closed his eyes, hugging himself as he stood in the middle of the mess that was his quarters. Solas remained still—he had learned the hard way that it was best to simply let these kinds of moments pass if he valued either of their safety. “No,” Connor repeated after a few deep breaths. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.” The words were mechanical and practiced, slow and deliberately spoken. Solas’s brows furrowed with concern as he examined Connor without the swathes of blankets around his shoulders as they lay in a forgotten pile on the floor among the pillows. The Inquisitor’s hair was greasy and unkempt, his face was streaked with ink and tear tracks and his usually crisp linen shirt was singed, one sleeve almost fully burned off and blisters beginning to form along the skin of his forearm. Now bathed in light, the signs of damage around the room were obvious—broad dark strokes of soot along the walls where the oil lamps were affixed to the stone, burnt curtains and ruined embroidery, the crumpled papers that lie half-charred and scattered around the desk… Solas frowned as he took in their surroundings and sighed, once again taking Connor’s hand in his to check the severity of the burns there. “May I?” He asked, the glow of healing magic beginning to gather beneath his fingers. Connor didn’t respond, but didn’t move away. Solas nodded at the silent approval, smoothing his hand over the blisters and leaving the ghost of scars over the spray of of freckles. He swept his hand up Connor’s arm, checking him over for any additional injury and giving a satisfied hum when he didn’t find anything else of concern. Connor stared blankly ahead as Solas worked, despondent until slender fingers brushed across his forehead, pushing limp hair aside and out of his eyes before pulling away, and Connor blinked, finally looking down. He seemed surprised, as if he had forgotten Solas was there at all as the mage wiped away a tear that Connor didn’t realize had fallen. “Lethallin,” Solas murmured, glancing down at the smudge of ink and ash that had come away on his fingers. “We should get you cleaned up. Come.” Connor glanced down at his hands and back up to Solas’ retreating figure before following in sullen silence. He fidgeted with the edge of his undamaged sleeve, watching the steam rise from the bath being drawn. “I’m sorry.” The apology was barely audible over the running water. Solas glanced up at him, eyes soft and full of something between sorrow and kindness. “Hush,” he replied. “There is no need to be ashamed, control will come with time. There,” the water stopped, and Solas tested the temperature, wiping the droplets onto his tunic and turning to leave. “That should be adequate.” “Wait—“ He was stopped by a cold hand against his wrist and paused, looking back at Connor with a raised eyebrow. Connor pulled back, eyes flitting nervously around the room, settling on the floor between them. “Don’t… Please stay.” He cleared his throat lightly, still studying the floorboards, a flush of pink spreading across his cheeks. “If you want, of course. I don’t mean to inconvenience you—“ Solas raised a hand to stop him, letting it rest on the man’s tear-stained cheek. “I will stay, if you wish.”

#dragon age fanfic #solas x trevelyan #connor trevelyan #my writing #dadwc #i tried to write fluff but the best i can give you is hurt/comfort #sorry

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sammeth · 2 years

Note

hi! LOVE your writing for sub!gareth. anyway you could write a oneshot with reader giving him aftercare after a heavy session or something similar? thank you! ❤️

Aftercare <3 here it is :) sorry it’s a little short, more of a blurb than a whole one shot

warning: afab reader, mentions of strap and sex

“Gare?” You ask, thinking he’s dead asleep by now. He peaks one eye open, his lips still slightly parted, and pulls up off of your strap weakly. It’s been a long session. Hours of playing, and he’s sore all over from the rapid movement and all of the tossing him around.

“Feels gross,” he whispers, flopping down onto the bed and grabbing at the nearest pillow. You instinctively take off the rest of your clothes, now soaked with your juices, and throw them all onto the floor beside your bed.

“C’mon, big boy,” you stand up and stretch, also tired from being cramped into little positions for the past hour and a half. “We gotta get you cleaned up,” you tell him, holding his hands gently. You reach up and brush his fingertips against your lips for comfort, just so he knows you’re being more gentle with him now. “I’ll run us a nice warm bath, and I’ll clean you up, and then I’ll make you dinner while you’re drying off and watching your favorite movie, yeah?”

He seems to think about it for a moment, opening one eye again before standing up with his legs trembling. He stretches too, but less because he’s more sore.

“Hot chocolate?” He asks, looking down at you with soft eyes. You nod in response, a smile spreading across your face.

“Of course, baby,” you guide him to the bathroom, making him sit down on the nice, fuzzy rug on the floor. Your hands gently leave his to glide over and turn the faucet knobs so that the water temperature is not too hot but not cold either. He prefers the temperature a little cooler than you would prefer, but that doesn’t matter right now. Tonight is about him. He went out of his comfort zone to make you feel good, and you’re returning the favor.

It’s easier to coax Gareth into the bath once he’s sleepy. He’ll do pretty much anything you ask when he gets like this—all tired and droopy. He falls into a different headspace, almost. It’s like he’s a little kid or something.

“Lean down, let me wash your hair.”

“Mmhm.”

You pick up the cup on the side of the bath and drench his curls, soaking them until you’re sure no where is left dry. And then you lather his expensive shampoo in his hair and massage is gently into his scalp. He whines at the feeling, closing his eyes again.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you place a kiss to his nose, upside-down.

Once you’re done washing and conditioning his hair, you move on to his body. You make him sit on the edge of the tub so you can scrub him all over. You start from the top and make your way down, leaving nothing dirty.

“Good job, didn’t even fight me this time,” you compliment, kissing his cheek this time as he lowers himself back down into the water. “No! I just washed you, get up,” you quickly pull him up and drain the water, pulling out the plug and giggling at his sleepy obedience.

“Huh?” He asks, cracking one eye open again.

“You can’t get back into dirty water after I spent so much time cleaning you,” you say, putting the plug back in and running more warm water, a little hotter this time because it’s your turn. “Now step out and I’ll get your towel onesie,” you walk over to the cabinet and pull out the onesie made of towel material. You wrap it around his shoulders and pull the little duck hood over his hair, shaking it around to get all of the drips.

“I got it, I got it,” he walks back toward the bedroom, hands in his flipper pockets. You can’t help but giggle.

Once you’re done with cleaning yourself, you make him a wonderful dinner of Mac-n-Cheese and a sandwich while he watches Jeepers Creepers for the millionth time. This is an acceptable compromise for him, he can’t complain.

And by the end of the night, the two of you are cuddling and snuggled up together in his bed with your chests pressed together and his face in your neck.

Hope this was okay :) !

#stranger things #eddie munson #gareth emerson #hellfire club #gareth stranger things #gareth #gareth emerson fanfic #i love him #hellfire stranger things #eddie munson st4

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brainiac0 · 2 months

Text

Perfect Newborn Baby Gifts: A Guide to Thoughtful Choices

Welcoming a newborn into the world is a momentous occasion that calls for celebration and thoughtful gestures. If you’re on the hunt for the perfect new born baby gift, look no further. Whether you’re a doting relative, a close friend, or a colleague wanting to express your joy and best wishes, finding a gift that is both practical and meaningful can make a lasting impression. At Brainiac Toys, we understand the importance of nurturing young minds right from the start. Here’s a curated selection of gifts that are sure to delight both baby and parents alike.

1. Educational Toys

Toys that stimulate a baby’s senses and encourage early development are always a hit. Look for toys that are designed to enhance sensory exploration, such as soft books with contrasting colors, textured balls, or musical toys that play soothing melodies. Brainiac Toys offers a range of educational toys that are not only fun but also foster cognitive and motor skill development in infants.

2. Personalized Keepsakes

Mark this special occasion with a personalized gift that the family can cherish forever. Personalized items like embroidered blankets, custom-made baby clothing, or engraved silverware are not only practical but also serve as heartfelt mementos of the baby’s arrival. Brainiac Toys can personalize select items to add that extra special touch to your gift.

3. Baby Care Essentials

New parents are always in need of practical essentials for their newborn. Consider putting together a gift basket filled with organic baby lotions, gentle bath products, and hypoallergenic diapers. Brainiac Toys stocks a variety of eco-friendly and baby-safe products that ensure you’re giving a gift that’s both useful and safe for the baby’s delicate skin.

4. Nursery Decor

Help create a cozy and welcoming nursery environment with decorative items that complement the baby’s space. Think colorful mobiles, soft rugs, or wall art that features soothing patterns and colors. Brainiac Toys offers a selection of nursery decor items that are not only adorable but also designed to stimulate the baby’s visual senses.

5. Developmental Books

Introduce the gift of reading early on with a collection of board books designed for infants. Opt for books with large, colorful pictures and simple text that parents can read aloud to their baby toys. Brainiac Toys stocks a variety of baby-friendly books that promote early language skills and a love for reading from an early age.

Why Choose Brainiac Toys?

At Brainiac Toys, we specialize in gifts that promote learning and development from infancy through childhood. Our carefully curated selection of newborn baby gifts ensures that you’re giving a present that aligns with our commitment to quality, safety, and educational value. Whether you’re shopping for a baby shower, a christening, or simply want to send your congratulations, our range of gifts caters to every occasion and budget.

Conclusion

Choosing the perfect newborn baby gift is about celebrating the joyous arrival of a new life while also offering practical support to the new parents. Whether you opt for educational toys, personalized keepsakes, baby care essentials, nursery decor, or developmental books, your thoughtful gesture will be remembered for years to come. Visit Brainiac Toys today to explore our full range of newborn baby gifts and find the ideal present that reflects your joy and well wishes for the newest addition to the family.

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theextremedesertsafari · 3 months

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Discover the Ultimate Desert Adventure: Dubai Desert Safari Tours

Dubai, a city known for its opulence and innovation, offers a unique blend of modernity and tradition. Amidst its towering skyscrapers and luxurious lifestyle, Dubai's vast desert landscapes provide an exciting escape for adventure enthusiasts and cultural explorers alike. Our extreme desert safari tours promise an unforgettable experience, with options to suit every schedule and preference. Whether you seek the thrill of a high-speed dune ride or the serenity of a desert sunset, our tours have it all.

The Magic of the Desert

The Arabian Desert holds a mystique that is both ancient and enchanting. Its golden sands stretch as far as the eye can see, creating a mesmerizing backdrop for adventure and relaxation. The desert is a place where time seems to stand still, offering a stark contrast to the bustling city life of Dubai. Our desert safari tours aim to showcase this unique environment while providing a range of exciting activities.

Tailored Desert Safari Experiences

We understand that every traveler has different interests and schedules. That's why we offer desert safari tours at three distinct times of the day: morning, evening, and overnight. Each tour is meticulously crafted to ensure you get the most out of your desert adventure.

Morning Desert Safari

For early birds and those with busy schedules, the morning desert safari is an ideal choice. As the sun rises over the dunes, you'll embark on a journey filled with excitement and exploration. Our morning safari includes:

Dune Bashing: Start your day with an adrenaline-pumping ride across the sand dunes in a 4x4 vehicle. Our experienced drivers will navigate the challenging terrain, giving you a taste of the desert's raw power.

Camel Ride: Experience the traditional way of traversing the desert on the back of a camel. This gentle ride offers a unique perspective of the landscape and a glimpse into the Bedouin way of life.

Sand Boarding: For those who crave adventure, sandboarding down the dunes is a must. This exhilarating activity is similar to snowboarding but on sand, providing a thrilling experience for all ages.

Quad Biking: Take control of your own quad bike and zoom across the desert. The rugged terrain and wide-open spaces make for an exciting ride that you won't soon forget.

Evening Desert Safari

The evening desert safari is our most popular option, offering a perfect blend of adventure, relaxation, and cultural experiences. As the sun sets over the desert, you'll witness the dunes bathed in a warm, golden glow. This tour includes:

Dune Bashing: Experience the thrill of dune bashing as you navigate the towering sand dunes in a powerful 4x4 vehicle. The excitement of climbing and descending the dunes is sure to get your heart racing.

Camel Ride: Take a leisurely camel ride and enjoy the tranquil beauty of the desert. The slow, rhythmic gait of the camel allows you to fully appreciate the serene surroundings.

Sand Boarding: Challenge yourself with a thrilling sandboarding session. Whether you're a beginner or an expert, sliding down the dunes is an exhilarating activity that everyone can enjoy.

Quad Biking: Feel the rush of adrenaline as you ride a quad bike across the desert. The open terrain and stunning scenery make for an unforgettable adventure.

BBQ Dinner: After an action-packed afternoon, indulge in a delicious BBQ dinner at our desert camp. Enjoy a variety of grilled meats, salads, and traditional Arabic dishes while sitting under the stars.

Live Entertainment: The evening comes alive with captivating performances. Watch skilled belly dancers sway to the rhythm of traditional music, be mesmerized by the whirling Tanoura dance, and feel the heat of the fire show.

Henna Tattoo: Get a beautiful henna tattoo as a souvenir of your desert adventure. Our talented artists can create intricate designs that reflect the beauty of Arabic culture.

Shisha (Habli Babli): Relax in our Bedouin-style camp and enjoy the aromatic flavors of shisha. This traditional water pipe offers a range of flavors to suit your taste.

Overnight Desert Safari

For those who wish to fully immerse themselves in the desert experience, our overnight safari is the perfect choice. Spend a night under the stars and wake up to the serene beauty of the desert at dawn. The overnight safari includes all the activities of the evening tour, plus:

Overnight Camping: After an evening of entertainment and a sumptuous BBQ dinner, settle down in our comfortable desert camp. Our tents are equipped with all the amenities you need for a restful night's sleep.

Star Gazing: The clear desert skies offer a breathtaking view of the stars. Lie back and marvel at the night sky, free from the light pollution of the city.

Sunrise View: Wake up early to witness the sunrise over the dunes. The cool morning air and the sight of the sun rising over the horizon create a truly magical experience.

Breakfast: Start your day with a hearty breakfast before heading back to the city. Enjoy a selection of fresh fruits, pastries, and traditional Arabic dishes to fuel your journey.

Exclusive Safari Activities

In addition to our standard tours, we offer a range of exclusive activities that can be added to any desert safari package. These activities provide an extra layer of excitement and adventure, ensuring your desert experience is truly unforgettable.

Safari Buggy Ride

For those who crave high-speed adventure, our safari buggy ride is a must. These powerful off-road vehicles are built to handle the challenging desert terrain, allowing you to explore the dunes at your own pace. Whether you're racing across the sand or taking in the stunning scenery, the buggy ride is an exhilarating experience.

Safari Quad Ride

Feel the thrill of riding a quad bike across the desert. Our quad bikes are easy to operate and provide an exciting way to explore the vast landscape. With wide-open spaces and challenging terrain, the quad ride is perfect for adventure enthusiasts of all ages.

Safari Camel Ride

Experience the desert in the most traditional way possible with a camel ride. These gentle giants have been used by Bedouins for centuries to navigate the harsh desert environment. The camel ride offers a peaceful and authentic way to experience the beauty of the desert.

Safari Sand Boarding

If you're a fan of snowboarding or surfing, you'll love sandboarding. This thrilling activity involves sliding down the dunes on a specially designed board. Whether you're a beginner or an expert, sandboarding is a fun and exciting way to enjoy the desert.

Cultural Experiences

Our desert safari tours are not just about adventure; they're also about experiencing the rich culture and traditions of the Arabian Desert. From traditional music and dance performances to henna tattoos and Arabic dress, our tours offer a glimpse into the vibrant culture of the region.

Live Shows

Our evening and overnight safaris feature a range of live performances that showcase the best of Arabian culture. Enjoy the mesmerizing movements of belly dancers, the hypnotic whirling of the Tanoura dance, and the thrilling spectacle of the fire show. These performances add a touch of magic to your desert experience.

Henna Tattoo

Get a beautiful henna tattoo as a lasting memento of your desert adventure. Our talented artists can create intricate designs that reflect the beauty and tradition of Arabic culture. Henna tattoos are a temporary but meaningful way to remember your time in the desert.

Arabic Dress

Dress up in traditional Arabic attire and take photos to commemorate your desert safari. Our selection of robes and headscarves allows you to fully immerse yourself in the local culture. This fun activity is perfect for creating lasting memories and unique photo opportunities.

Convenience and Comfort

We strive to make your desert safari experience as convenient and comfortable as possible. Our tours include hotel pick-up and drop-off in air-conditioned 4x4 vehicles, ensuring a hassle-free journey from start to finish. Our experienced drivers are knowledgeable about the desert terrain and will ensure your safety and enjoyment throughout the tour.

Why Choose Us?

With so many desert safari tours available in Dubai, you might wonder what sets us apart. Here are a few reasons why our tours are the best choice for your desert adventure:

Experience and Expertise: With years of experience in the tourism industry, we know how to create unforgettable desert safari experiences. Our team of experts is dedicated to providing the highest level of service and ensuring your safety and satisfaction.

Custom-Made Tours: Each of our tours is carefully crafted to offer a unique and memorable experience. We tailor our activities to suit your interests and schedule, ensuring you get the most out of your desert adventure.

High-Quality Equipment: We use only the best equipment for our tours, from our powerful 4x4 vehicles to our top-of-the-line sandboards and quad bikes. Our commitment to quality ensures a safe and enjoyable experience for all our guests.

Customer Satisfaction: Your satisfaction is our top priority. We go above and beyond to ensure you have an amazing time on our desert safari tours. From our friendly and knowledgeable guides to our comfortable and well-equipped camps, we strive to exceed your expectations.

Conclusion

A desert safari in Dubai is an experience like no other. Whether you're seeking adventure, cultural experiences, or simply a chance to unwind and enjoy the beauty of the desert, our tours offer something for everyone. From the excitement of dune bashing and quad biking to the serenity of a camel ride and the magic of a desert sunset, our tours promise an unforgettable journey into the heart of the Arabian Desert. So, choose your suitable timing, explore our safari tours, and get ready to enjoy the ultimate desert adventure.

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