#i am kissing you on the lips we will have a spring wedding

[recurring-polynya]

It has been 14 hours since I found out that, according to Kubo, Byakuya calls Renji by his given name "because Rukia does" and I am obsessed with this information.

This is both the best and worst possible answer to this question. I feel like if you asked Byakuya, this is exactly the reason he would give. However, if Rukia were present, she would lose her damn mind. While I do think Rukia's assertion that Byakuya didn't look at her even once in 40 years is hyperbole, over that time I can imagine Renji's name coming up in conversation once, maybe twice tops.

Like, two weeks before she goes on her fateful mission to the Living World, B's been shortlisting Vice-Captain candidates, and over dinner, real casual:

B: Rukia. You know your friend?

Rukia: My who now?

B: That friend of yours who shouts too much. The boorishly tall one. With the red hair. Is he in Squad Eleven now?

Rukia (wracking her brain frantically for people Byakuya would consider 'her friend'): You mean Renji?

B: Yes, him.

Rukia: What about him?

B: Is he in Squad Eleven? The Sixth Seat?

Rukia: ...maybe? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The next day, Byakuya's office, Renji shows up for his job interview.

B: You must be Renji.

Renji: uhhhhhhhh sure why not?

[torusdove]

— You taste sweet, like honey

Pairings: Yuuji x reader, Kento x reader, Satoru x reader, Choso x reader & Yuuta x reader.

Description: types of kisses I believe they fit!

— Pinky promise! ˚｡ Itadori Yuuji.

In the heart of the small, neighbourhood middle school, Itadori and you were found running behind one another. The laughter of innocence surrounded you both as you basked in the warmth of the sun, your hand stretched in front of you as you tried to lay your hands on his body, tagging him to be it.

Spring had brought the subtle wind with her, filling the air with the sweet scent of the blooming flowers and pollen that seemed to be giving Itadori a hard time once in a while.

With sparkling eyes, you took one big step, pressing your palm against his back. You absolutely didn’t mean to do it, but gasped anyway when he tumbled over into the fresh field of grass. It took him a little before he burst into laughter, rolling onto his back as he watched you with the same spark twinkling in his eyes.

“Y/n,” he breathed out, chest heaving up and down through a small cough that itched up into his throat. Those stupid pollen.

“We should marry when we’re allll grown up!”

You couldn’t fight the mischievous grin that seemed to grow into your lips, giggling softly behind your tiny hand before you took a seat beside his face, knees probably covered in green when you’d get up. “You’re silly!”

“I am dead-serious!” His voice became louder, sitting upright as his eyes struck yours with a certain certainty, “We will have a biiig house with eleven cats and seven birds!”

Caught up in his whimsy, imaginary future, you couldn’t help but giggle even more, innocent eyes crinkling into two new moons while he watched you with a smile curled into his lips. “Okay, ‘dori, I promise we will!”

Without another word, he extended his pinky high up into the sky, waiting patiently until you seemed to be doing the same, “Pinky promise?” And with all of your teeth on display in a big smile, you linked your pinky with his, your fingers intertwined in a gesture that felt as significant as any wedding ring, “Pinky promise!”

With your childish promise made, Itadori leaned in, his little lips pressing gently against your cheek. The kiss was sweet, innocent even, filled with the purity of childhood affection. Yet, both of your faces were flushing red, laughter filling the air a second later when the silliness was no longer ignorable.

As the sun shone her brightest colours in the sky, you continued to play, hearts filled with the joy of friendship and the magic of youthful promises that, for a moment, felt as real as the world around you.

— Morning affection ˚｡ Nanami Kento.

The soft glow of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue across the bedroom. Your eyes carefully fluttered open, aware of the new day dawning upon the world while stirring around gently. The empty spot beside you told you enough to mourn your loss already: Kento was awake and ready to head to work.

Nevertheless, you did have the privilege of being met by his back, blazer neatly straightened and tight around his biceps, hands probably busy fixing his tie. The smile that curled upwards into your lips had won the battle, watching him silently.

When he turned around and locked eyes with you, you could swear you saw the corners of his eyes soften around the edges, walking way too quickly towards you. Bending down a bit, slightly towering over your frame, his lips found their comfort on your forehead.

"Good morning, my love," he whispered, voice a gentle murmur. "’M sorry for waking you.” It was silly, the way he apologised for something that happened despite his quietness. So, with a soft smile, fully embracing his doting as the slumber still had a grasp around your wrist, you whispered, “Nonsense, Nami..”

As you felt him backing away, you debated whether to grasp his wrist and ask him to stay “for just five minutes longer”, but decided against it when he seemed at peace after giving you such a sweet goodbye.

Patting his chest softly, straightening his tie out just the tiniest bit, you watched him with a fond expression, “Gon’ miss you, Nami – hurry back home, ‘kay?”

With an amused grin, he nodded his head, letting his lips dip down to meet your forehead for a second time. You could feel his grin against your head, softly breaking out into a smile yourself.

“I will be back before you know it, sweetheart.” With that, he walked towards the bedroom door, glancing once more at your body being swallowed by the fluffy blankets. It may have been a brief moment for outsiders, but it warmed your body more than the blankets ever could. Watching him leave the room, you couldn’t help but sigh out contently, already counting down the seconds he’d come back home.

— Drowsy love ˚｡ Kamo Choso.

The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a warm ambience. Laying entwined in the comfort of your bed, the soft sheets cradled Choso and you like two warm arms. Both on the verge of sleep, but a gentle restlessness lingering in the air.

Your lips met lazily, a slow dance of affection. Eyes half-closed, you exchanged sweet, drowsy kisses, each one deepening the quiet intimacy between you. Fingertips traced gentle patterns on bare skin, a silent language of love spoken in the quiet of the night.

A contented sigh escaped as you parted from his lips, only to hear a whine coming from his lips in the hopes of gravitating back together. The world outside your bedroom seemed to fade away, leaving only the rhythmic exchange of sleepy kisses and the steady beating of your hearts.

The room filled with the soothing sounds of your shared breaths, creating a melody of quiet affection. The soft rustle of the sheets only echoed the tender moments between you even more, and in the hushed stillness, you continued your wordless exchange, savouring the sweetness of those sleepy kisses that spoke volumes about the love you held for one another.

— What were we waiting for? ˚｡ Gojo Satoru.

The room was bathed in a blue glow from the long-forgotten TV, a playlist playing in the background which neither of you paid any attention to. A low hum of laughter and music filled the air as Satoru and you, both slightly tipsy -rather, very much drunk-, found yourselves on the sofa in the middle of the shared living room.

Originally, you’d have shared this very same sofa with three other people: Suguru, Kento and Ieiri. However, with all three of them finding their way in life, the sofa only seemed familiar to your two figures.

With one last sip from your glass of wine, you let your head fall back against the headrest, closing your eyes while a deep sigh spilt from your mouth. Satoru couldn’t help but mirror your body, letting his fall back in the same way, only with his head turned towards the side of your face.

Your hair was messy, not unkept, but dishevelled enough to be called messy. There was a soft, red glow blooming into your hot cheeks, darker than the usual shade of lipstick that adorned your chapped lips. He noticed the way your chest moved at a much slower pace: a lazy, deep breath followed by a -just as- lazy deep exhale. Your eyes were fluttered shut, eyelashes moving the slightest bit along with your eyes.

Your exams were finally over, and now you could relax.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to feel his eyes burning holes into your soul, but this time the heat felt more unbearable. Maybe your tolerance for alcohol wasn’t as high as you thought.

Or perhaps he was staring a little harder than normal.

There was no escaping his gaze, no escaping his strikingly clear eyes, even when you had convinced yourself that opening your own slowly, would maybe get the job done.

It wouldn’t.

His irises were coloured a fierce blue, a luminous glow of happiness and youthfulness sparkling within them. They burned fanatically, challenging the sun by showing off its brightness. They could devour the beauty of the rest of the world with ease, leaving you to question whether you had seen anything that would even come close to their beauty. Resting your cheek on the headrest, you finally let your eyes meet.

A subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at unspoken feelings.

Your cheeks felt hot and your head was pounding, fingers quick to fidget with the rims of your nails to get your mind a little more focused. A slight buzz in the back of your mind had you feeling hazy, dozy even. It made you question whether or not your eyes were betraying you by observing his body leaning more towards yours.

You couldn’t speak of any betrayal when your eyes caught his lingering on your lips, a playful smile etching its way into the corners of his mouth. He never lost his childish playfulness, your strand of hair being twirled around his finger absentmindedly being proof of it.

The TV played a soft melody, creating a backdrop for the unspoken tension between you. A bubble of air seemed to have settled its claws into your trachea, your hand carefully finding its way to his knee.

Satoru had always been beautiful, had always had girls running after him ever since you had known him. And up to this very moment, you had never quite understood.

In turn, Satoru let his body shift closer, lightly nudging your thigh with his. The air buzzed with quiet anticipation as you shared a secret, drowsy smile, realizing that something unspoken lingered between you.

A shared moment of vulnerability passed between your gaze, each recognizing the unspoken feelings. His hand found your fidgeting ones, intertwining his fingers with yours until you had become completely still. The room seemed to fade away as both of you moved closer, drawn together by an undeniable magnetic force.

With a gentle touch, your free hand brushed a strand of white away from his face, your fingertips grazing his cheek. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken words, but in that shared moment of silence, you both understood. Without needing to say a word, your lips met in a soft, lingering kiss that spoke volumes about the connection you had discovered in the midst of a tipsy night.

— This isn't goodbye ˚｡ Okkotsu Yuuta.

The airport terminal was buzzing with the hum of conversations and the shuffle of hurried footsteps. Surrounded by the busy crowd, Yuuta and you stood facing each other, expressions a mix of anticipation, sadness and longing. With his bag packed and his luggage beside him, you couldn’t help but tear up, trying to hold them back by flashing him a wobbly smile.

"I guess it is finally time.." Yuuta said, his voice tinged with slight excitement but also reluctance as his eyes picked up on your own. Your usually bright whites had turned a pinkish colour, the sparkle within them also nowhere to be found.

Your head moved up and down, blinking back tears and swallowing the big lump that seemed to be stuck in your trachea, "You will have a great time."

Noticing your soft speech, and your shimmering eyes, Yuuta couldn’t stop his body from moving closer into your proximity, reaching for your hands and squeezing them softly in reassurance, “I will be back before you know it.”

There was no use in giving him any sort of rebuttal, nodding once more as your hands lightly squeezed him back. “I know,” you measly whispered out, “I am proud of you for coming this far.”

These were the last moments of the two of you being able to be this close to one another, and Yuuta seemed to realise that as well. Pressing his forehead against yours, he spoke even softer than before, eyes strikingly clear, “I promise I’ll come back. I’ll come back stronger and braver, for you.”

You couldn’t manage more than a small smile, eyes glistening in the bright airport lighting, “I will be here.” Yuuta’s thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear as gently as he could.

It didn’t take him long, but it did take him a handful of courage to do what he desperately wanted to do months ago. With his hands gently cupping your face, he pressed his lips, with utmost tenderness, against yours. Surely, you could categorise it as a bittersweet kiss, filled with the promise of return and the ache of separation.

However, as you watched him disappear into the crowd, becoming one with the sea of people, you couldn’t help but not think of this as a departure, but more so as a new beginning that just had to reach its starting point.

Author speaking: i love reading comments and quoted reblogs ;) take care!! <3

[sadesluvr]

The Hills (Part Two)

JJ hates his menial job, but there’s a certain customer he lusts and loathes in particular.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

Part One

You didn’t know what had come over you.

One minute you’d been poolside; pissed over something so fickle you couldn’t remember, and the next you were pressed against the cold walls of the storage room whilst JJ Maybank - known Pogue and borderline vagrant - had fucked you from behind.

He was all over you now; his love bites still etched on your body whilst his ocean and marijuana dripped scent was embedded into the material of your swimsuit. None of it compared to the fact that he’d made his mark directly inside you - his cum still seeping out of you when you’d showered before dinner that day. Your dear father had been concerned, so worried that his princess was walking with a slight limp whilst she kept her thighs pressed together…and all you could say was that you needed to pee.

What had happened was a one time thing, a lapse of judgement in the spur of the moment. He could run off and tell all his friends, but who was truly going to believe him? You had everyone wrapped around your finger, so as far as it went, your word was sacred.

Would you really be that embarrassed if word got out? It wasn’t as if JJ was a complete social pariah. Still, you knew enough about him (and his felonious father) to know that some things were best kept a secret.

And you vowed to keep it that way.

“I’m bored,” Bree said, dragging her vowels as she ran a hand through her hair. “Let’s get drunk. Or high. Better yet, both,”

You and Halle scoffed as you turned around, balancing an ungodly amount of clothes on your arms. They were over at your house, going through your closet as you sifted for something fresh - or forgotten - to wear. Midsummers was around the corner, and nothing but perfection was expected from you. Not that you were ever worried about that, of course.

“Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” you said, rolling your eyes.

“We can just go to the store and get a new one,” Bree huffed before perking up again. “Come on, let’s go to Rafe’s! They’ve always got something going on,”

Halle snickered. “Please, anywhere but his!”

“Agreed,” you nodded. “Rafe does the hard stuff. I am not a crack whore,”

“Speaking of, what’s going on with you and him, huh?” Bree pressed. “You know he’s into you…I bet he’s going to ask you to Midsummers,”

You smirked. The fact was rather amusing - Rafe could, and has, hooked up with many girls on the island, and yet you were the one he chased the most. It was the classic Madonna/Whore complex, and if you were to say yes - even once - you knew you were in for a life of nothing but rigid conformity, from the rich white of your wedding dress to the grand names of your babies once you carried the Cameron lineage. To some, that life was appealing, but you already had it all. 

You just wanted a bit of fun. Perhaps in the form of another blonde.

“I’ll hook up with him but that’s it,” you shrugged, holding a dress to your body as you stared in the mirror. “It all depends on how drunk I can get…”

“Are you serious? How could you not like Rafe Cameron? Every girl on this island would kill to be you!” Bree exclaimed with a distant, yet covetous look in her eye. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,”

Bree huffed again before pursing her lips. 

“…If you don’t want him, can I have him?”

You cocked a brow.

“Does he want you?”

Halle bit her lip, holding back a laugh as she flopped onto your bed and grinned.

“I’m all for you getting laid anyway,” she said, breaking the somewhat obvious tension. “Whoever you got it from last time gave it to you good… I haven’t seen you glow like that since our twelfth grade spring break!”

You paused, suddenly being hit with the faint smell of chlorine and weed. JJ was behind you again, stamping impassioned kisses and bites onto your skin as he tutted into you, skilfully working his big cock into you as he sought his release. It was all too warm, too fast.

“Oooh, who’s the guy?” Bree perked up, with Halle nodding eagerly in agreement.

“It’s nothing serious…” you shrugged, turning your back to the both of them as you tried to hide your smirk. You and JJ weren’t dating - and you certainly weren’t close to being friends - and yet you couldn’t deny the feeling in your stomach. Whether it was nerves, lust, or somewhere in between, you couldn’t wait to run into the Pogue boy again. 

“…You know what?” you said, clearing your throat as you stared off into the distance. “Maybe I can get us that weed for next time…”

That Saturday, you wore your prettiest (and tightest) sundress. 

It seemed your covered body made you borderline invisible (it was either that or JJ was deliberately ignoring you) as you watched him stroll around the pool, smiling in people’s faces and flipping them off behind their backs. Knowing that he hated his job - where he served to service people like you - was rather amusing. You couldn’t wait to make his day worse.

You stood up as he came your way, grabbing him by the shoulder as if you were scolding him.

The boy turned to you and gave you a once over.

“Whaddup princess, back for round two?”

“Shut up,” you hissed. “Listen, I need a favour —“

JJ grinned.

“I’m all ears but I’m charging this time, alright? I’ve seen what kind of car your dad drives,” he finished with a knowing smirk, and you rolled your eyes at the implication.

“Ugh,” you huffed. “Anyway. You have something I want —“

“—Oh, really? ‘Cus it just so happens you’ve got something I want too…” he mused, staring down at your glossy lips before checking you out. “Three things, in fact. Four if you’re a freak —“

You cut him off, aware of the way your cunt throbbed at the mention of letting any man - let alone someone like JJ - take your anal virginity.

“I need weed, and I know you Pogues have got good stuff,” you said, voice shaking. “I want a bag… or something —“

JJ scoffed and rolled his eyes, running his fingers over his lips as he looked you up and down. There was something alluring about the fact that you, in all your bitchiness, were rather innocent under it all. Someone like you, coming to him for a favour? How could he possibly turn the opportunity down?

“You don’t know how this works, huh?” he laughed, staring at your wide eyes.

“Tip me and I’ll have it hand delivered on Sunday. You won’t even have to go to The Cut.”

Raising a brow, you rummaged in your tiny purse before handing him some cash.

“Here’s a dollar. Fix yourself up.” you instructed, nodding to his messy hair and the small scars on his lip and hands.

“Don’t let me down.” You said sternly, holding your hands on top of his own momentarily as you stared into his blue eyes. He was clearly distracted; fixating more on your lush lips and the sheer material of your sundress stretching over your breasts.

At least the two of you were on the same page. 

The sun had set on Figure Eight, and, of course, JJ hadn’t shown up. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was bringing weed (you could’ve at least smoked your problems away), you would’ve felt like a girl stood up on her first date. Instead, you’d flung on your nighties and turned up the volume in your AirPods, staring out of the window and glancing at the moon.

As much as your mind wanted to focus on Midsummers, you could only think about JJ, and what it would feel like to have him fuck you again, this time in your pink satin sheets from the crack of dawn until the sunset. Sliding your hands into your silk shorts, you pushed past the wet lips of your pussy with your fingers and delved them into your core, imagining they were JJ’s and not yours. 

“That’s it, Mama, get those fingers nice and wet for Daddy…”

You longed to feel his cool rings press against your hot cunt as he fingerfucked you; his trademark smug smile painted across his face as he soothed you, relishing in your desperation.

“Fuck, if you can’t take my fingers, you’re gonna fall apart on my cock, huh?”

You delved your fingers deeper into your pussy as you worked your way into the crux of your fantasy; only to be rudely awakened by the sound of tapping on a window.

“What the fuck —-“

Blinking, you struggled to get your eyes to adjust to the sudden light, your vision blurry as they locked onto a certain blonde figure. Huffing, you wiped your hands on your thigh before striding over and siding it open.

“You asshole, are you dumb?” 

“Well, it would’ve been easier if you had left the gate open,” JJ said casually, climbing through your window. He was dressed in a ripped vest, and was carrying a small ziplock in one hand, with a gun in the other. “This shits like a fucking maze…Were those lasers…?”

Hurriedly, you closed the window, making sure that no one had seen before ushering him away from the view.

“The gate was open…five hours ago!” you exclaimed, careful to keep your voice to a hush. “Where the fuck were you?”

“I got caught up, okay?” he shrugged, unable to keep his eyes off of your body, fixated on the way your breasts jiggled with every animated reaction. “I’m here now, do you want the stuff or not?”

Frowning, you stuck your hand out for JJ to hand you the goods, inspecting the contents as he looked around your room. It was unbearably girly, yet JJ couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of pride to it all. He was the messy Pogue boy, slutting out a Kook princess - Rafe’s most wanted property - and it felt fucking good.

He glanced over at you, taking in the way your vest hung dangerously low on your chest, exposing the tops of your boobs and the outline of your nipples, hardened in the cool summer air. Your shorts weren’t any less tempting; the fabric riding so high up your legs that he could swear he could see a bit of your pussy through the opening.

If he was correct, you weren’t even wearing panties.

“Nice clothes by the way,” he grinned. “Is that lace? You goin’ somewhere?”

“To bed, yeah.” you scoffed, hiding the weed in your top drawer before lying on your bed. The hem of your vest rode up so that you gave JJ an eyeful of your stomach, teasing him with the rounded mounds of your breasts.

“Mind if I join you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead flopping next to you and propping himself up on his elbow, trapping you between the wall and his body. 

“I'm not in the mood, JJ.” You huffed, staring up at his damned smile as you tried to ignore the burning in your core. Just five minutes ago you were dreaming of this, and if it weren’t for your pride you would’ve been begging him to fuck you like a bitch in heat.

The blonde clicked his tongue, his lustful eyes drinking in your body as he began to run his fingers up your thigh, moving skilfully past your core and up onto your hips, daring to cop a feel of your breasts.

“You owe me for that…by the way,” he said knowingly. You raised your brows in shock, and he laughed.

“What, you thought it was free? That I’d give it to you out of ‘the goodness of my heart’? Nah, princess, this is good shit right here, and I’m not letting my journey go to waste —“ 

His hands stalked up your chest, causing you to let out a soft moan as he brushed your sensitive nipples before they decided to rest on your neck, gripping it with a considerable force as he held you in place to look at him.

“— You’re not really over our first time, anyway.”

He kissed you, and you instinctively pulled his body on top of you, gasping as he grinded his hard cock against against your thigh, signalling what he wanted. You were all too happy to give it to him, rolling yourself on top of him so that you could rub your cunt against his crotch, desperate for any kind of friction. JJ snickered, pulling up your vest to roughly grope your tits before placing his hand on your neck again, gently choking you.

“As much as I want you to ride me Princess, I didn’t come here for that kind of payment. I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

His gaze on your was unwavering as he lowered you to the foot of the bed on your knees, hand still firm around your throat. Your core throbbed as you glanced up at him through your lashes, palming his bulge through the fabric before taking it out. This was your first time seeing it up close; a decent six inches with a slight curve and pink fleshy tip that spouted precum.

Instinctively, you placed it to your lips, coating your lips in his seed before you took him in your mouth. JJ let out a loud moan at the contact, gripping the back of your neck as he held your head in place as you bobbed up and down his lengthy cock.

You took a deep breath as you pressed your tongue flat against the underside, angling your neck further as you became determined to deepthroat his cock. Your ego was far too big to let JJ think he was winning; even though you tears were beginning to prick at the corner of your eyes.

“JayJ…” you choked. “I need to — Let me —“

“What?” He teased, cupping your cheeks. “Use your words, Mama…”

“Y-You’re too big…” you whimpered, dribbling bits of saliva down his cock as you gagged around his middle. “I need air —“

The blonde tutted.

“I always knew you were all talk. It’s a shame you can’t handle me, princess… I thought you and I were pretty good together the other day…” he rambled, and for some reason the clear manipulation in his voice made your cunt throb uncontrollably. 

You bobbed your head again, this time managing to bury your nose in his messy pubes, squirming and clawing on his large thighs as he held you in place. 

“That’s it, Mama,” he cooed, throwing his head back in ecstasy. “Be a good girl and choke on this fucking dick. Shit, I always knew that mouth was good for something…”

It wasn’t until you let out a desperate gurgle and that he let go. Though your cheeks were burning and eyes were filled with tears, you couldn’t help but admire your work - JJ’s raw cock was shiny, coated in your spit; twitching as he ached for more. 

Grinning, you wiped the mixture of saliva and cum off of your lips before getting back to work, this time using your hands to massage his base.

“Don’t forget the balls, baby —“ he groaned, and you took his cock out of your mouth with a ‘pop’, taking a long lick down his underside before sucking gently on his balls. He groaned again, this time finishing with an impassioned gasp that threatened to wake your parents down the hall.

You slapped his thigh.

“You’re going to get me busted!”

“Fuck that…” he drawled through breathy chuckles. “…Daddy’s little princess has got a mouth for days — You give these to all the pool boys?”

“Consider yourself lucky,” you hummed, giving him a few languid strokes as you continued to attend to his balls. “Rafe’s been on me like a hawk…”

JJ sneered, wrinkling his nose as he slapped his heavy cock on your face, producing a wet smacking sound.

“I don’t wanna hear about that asshole right now,” was all he said, guiding your head back onto his cock, feeling his thighs tremble as he began to reach his edge. 

He glanced over at your phone, wishing that he could snap a few pics, hell, even a quick video of the dirty deed; and send it off to the Cameron son himself in a quick Snapchat. To some it might’ve been trivial; but to a guy like Rafe having the right girl on his arm meant a lot - and, if JJ was to have even the slightest of leverage over him, how could he not take the opportunity to rub it in his face?

“Fuck…” he puffed, lips parted in ecstasy. “Choke on it one more time, baby…”

“JayJ—“ you begged, and he shook his head, solely focused on his release.

“C’mon princess, I know you can do it…Take a deep breath, ‘atta girl —“

It wasn’t long before he spilled down your throat, making you gag and pull your head back in shock. He hastily grabbed his dick and angled it at your face, painting white rivulets across your cheeks and lips as he writhed in pleasure, spewing words and phrases you weren’t sure if he even meant.

As he rode off his high, he scooped some of his cum up in his finger, and you needed no instruction as to what to do next. You stared into his cloudy blue eyes as you sucked his finger, and for a moment you could’ve sworn that there was something - even a flash - of affection. 

Once he pulled the digit out of your mouth, a moment passed before he kissed you; sloppily yet passionate, so much so that you didn’t notice the screen of your phone light up, even in the dimly lit light of your room.

rafe.cameron liked your story

rafe.cameron: Bree said you’re coming to Midsummers. Meet me at the country club tomorrow we need to talk

@juniebugg @lunarzuku (ty for reblogging and tagging part one!<3)

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

Family

Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader

Warning: angst with happy ending, fluff, sad Osferth

Summary: Osferth had always yearned for his own family. In your eyes he sees it.

Osferth sat among Uhtred and his men as they sat around the table, talking and laughing over ale. He had laughed at some jests, but sitting opposite Aethelflaed made the pit in his stomach grow. Like he had swallowed a stone and is now lying uncomfortably in his stomach.

As Edward joined the table the pit in his stomach grew heavier. When his half-siblings began to joke around with each other. He was envious of their relationship. He had longed for siblings of his own, sometimes praying Alfred might acknowledge him and gift him with his younger siblings. But fate was cruel in that regard.

You watched him grow quiet next to you. Your light mood came to a halt as Osferth turned inward into himself. When he stood up as Edward had sat down you immediately were wrong. He had told you once while helping Lady Gisela in the household, he longed for a family, siblings. Somewhere he could turn when he needed warmth and companionship.

You smiled at him and told him he had Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric now. That Gisela already treated him like he was part of her family. And he could always come to you if he ever felt alone. He blushed softly, murmuring a soft thanks as you walked into the great hall with buckets of fresh water.

You looked over to the table he had sat alone. Your heart hurts as you see him hunched over his meal eating alone. You grabbed your ale and bowl of stew and walked over sitting on his right side. “Can I join?” You softly spoke.

Osferth looked at you like a thief caught red-handed. His cheeks grow warm at the sight of you. “Yes. Of course.” He stammered out softly. You smiled before resuming to eat. He watched you with soft eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your soft voice flew into his ear. He shook his head, looking at his stew. He was thinking about gorging it all down even if he wasn’t hungry anymore. “You know you always have a family with me?” He grinned softly at your soft words. “I know.” He whispered back.

For some time, he had been thinking of family. He had travelled with Aethelflaed for some time. Trying to come up with an idea of how to establish a sibling relationship. He failed miserably.

When he looked at you, all he could see was his own family. With you as his wife. Many children so they would know what it felt to have siblings who loved one another.

“And what if I want it? A family with you?” He asked shyly. His heart beating so widely he could hear his blood rush in his ears. You frowned softly in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean, Os?”

That damned nickname you gave him made his stomach erupt in butterflies. “I mean our own family. Me, you … and maybe children of our own.” He whispered under his breath.

Your eyes widened softly. The spoon you were holding fell from your hand into the stew with a soft thud. “I thought you were a monk. Isn’t it against-“ “I don’t want to be anymore. My father chose this path for me. I will still be devoted to god, but I want to worship you as my wife.” He looked over at you with his soft blue eyes. “I can’t stay quiet anymore about my feelings about you. I feel more for you than a brother should. And I am thankful we aren’t related. I would like to make it known we are a family.”

You bit your lip softly. An act Osferth found irresistible. It seemed like the conversation was over when you looked away. But your body language gave Osferth hope. You softly scooted over to him and laid your head on his arm. “I like spring weddings.” Osferth grinned at your whisper.

The pit in his stomach was replaced by a swarm of butterflies. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head softly.

Main Masterlist

Can't get enough? Tell me about it...

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise

Chapter Ten: The Whites Description: Saera Targaryen was her father's forgotten daughter. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her sister and seeks solace in the arms of her uncle. Not realizing that the consequence of their affair is just as dire as her sister's.

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HE TAKES THE GOBLET OF BLOOD, and damps her forehead with their family's motto. "Fire" he wrote as she took the cup from his hand, gently inserting her finger and tapping its sides lightly. She places her fingers in his forehead and writes "Blood" in return.

He smiles, feeling a heavy weight lifted from off his shoulders. It had taken a decade of longing for them to finally be with each other. She smiles back at him as she takes another goblet from the officiator, bringing it to her lips and tasting the rusty taste of blood.

She smiles back at him, offering him the goblet and raising it to his lips. He takes a long gulp, and she chuckles lightly as she sees his blood stained mouth.

She wipes the crimson from his lips and brings her thumb to her mouth, tasting the iron of his tongue. "One soul, and one cause." he spoke for the first time as he looks behind her. Carefully watching as his children stared at the interaction.

"The winds will never hurt our backs," she replied as she leans closer and kisses his lips. His hands snaked towards her waist as he pulls her closer.

A thunder occurs from the skies and they both look up. Feeling the rain piercing both of their skins. He grasps her forearm and leans closer once more, tasting the ichor that she previously drank.

They both pull away, as the skies poured harder. He chuckles remembering their family's traditions. They say that when it rains during your wedding it means that the Gods have approved such match. It rained the day of Aegon and Rhaenys' marriage, and it has rained during Daemon and Saera's.

It was clear that the gods favored them. "You and I will rewarded in due time," he promised as he leans forward and gently pecks her lips. "To fire and blood." she toasted and he kisses the back of her hand. "To the promise of spring," he replied.

SAERA AND DAEMON STOOD WEARING THEIR WEDDING ATTIRES, with the eyes of Viserys' court piercing the both of them. And despite everyone looking at them with shame, she couldn't find it in herself to look down. Instead she kept her head raised, and her pride on her sleeves.

Viserys sits on his throne, reminding his brother and daughter that he was here as king and not as a family member. "Can you both explain to me, how this situation occurred?" he questioned intently as he kept his disappointed stare on his brother.

Saera and Daemon were birds of a feather — both were The King's headache, and both were rash and reckless. "It is nothing but pure love, brother." Daemon defended his judgement as Viserys' eyes narrowed in anger.

"I am your king. You shall address me as such," his booming voice commanded as Daemon kept his arm firmly supplanted on his wife's. "We married in the sights of our god, and the tradition of House Targaryen, your grace." Saera broke her vow of silence as The King frowned.

"Might I remind you that you are already married, Saera? To Ser Harwin, who has been kind to you." Viserys scolded as she chuckled bitterly. Not recognizing every word that dripped from her father's tongue.

Lord Lyonel clears his throat as he walked down the steps of the throne. He bore respect for his good-daughter and wasn't expecting such betrayal. "It is a grotesque misalliance, your grace. But things have been put to right now," she answered shyly but kept her chin up.

"Put to right, my princess? I do not understand your grievances when you have betrayed your husband and the faith of the seven. What you put forth is blasphemy to the highest regard!" Lyonel exclaimed as he tried to ignore Daemon's piercing glare.

The Rogue Prince takes a step forward, and flexes The Dark Sister. "Efforts to besmirch my wife's reputation will not be taken lightly." he threatened as the lord takes a step back. Saera rests her hand on her husband's shoulder, and glares at her good-father.

"We have done no wrong. It is my right to take as much spouses as I wish. It is what Aegon The Conqueror did with his sister-wives." she argued as her father presses a hand to his forehead. Already feeling a migraine forming.

The doors burst open behind them. She turns to look at the unlucky intruder and realizes that it's Ser Harwin and Princess Rhaenyra. "Come to join the feast?" Daemon smirks as he wraps his arms around Saera.

Harwin was red with fury. Anger was evident in his face and movement. But what he couldn't deny was the pang in his chest that told him that something wasn't right.

Viserys' eyes hardened, understanding that none of them would go down without a fight. "Is it true what I hear of?" Harwin interrogates as he walks towards his wife. Pulling at her arm, and ignoring her Valyrian wedding attire.

She frees herself from his grasp, as Daemon points his sword at the unfaithful man. "I do not owe you an explanation," she asserts as his eyebrow began to bump into each other.

"I am your husband," he pointed his finger at her as Daemon points at his sword. "And so am I." he replies as he keeps the woman behind her. "I do not understand!" he exclaims as he stares at his father.

Lord Lyonel walks towards his son and whispers a few sentences in his ears. With every word, Harwin became redder and redder, until it had grown too much to bear. He drawed his sword and aimed it at The Rogue Prince. Only for the Kingsguard to pull him down.

King Viserys stands up, and everyones eyes turn back to him. "My daughter is right, we are the blood of Old Valyria and the laws of men will never apply to us. Their marriage is legitimate, but I suppose that there are a few things only the three of you can decide upon." he interpolated and Saera squeezes her uncles hands.

It didn't matter if it brought great shame upon them, all that matters was that their marriage was legitimate and true. "This is unjust, your grace!" Harwin begged to differ but his good-father's decision was already set in stone.

Viserys raises his hands and calls for his maester to dismiss everyone.

Harwin turns towards his wife, and reaches for her hands. "This is not right, Saera, and you know it." he beseeched but she only frees herself from his grasp. "I do not intend to dwell on something unchangeable. I know things — things that will bring shame upon my sister's line. But I will not speak about it, for I bare respect for her and for our house." she stated as she fiddled with her necklace and walked hand-in-hand with her new husband.

Reminding everyone that Dragons were unstable and unpredictable. That Saera and Daemon were dragons, and their enemies would never succeed against them.

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[thebeatles-world]

Free Bird: Part 2

Here's part one

''Wait, Geo please wait...'' You shouted as you ran. You saw George unlocking his car.

''I need to tell you something!!!'' You shouted at the top of your lungs. It drew George's attention to you.

"Listen, I'm not trying to cause trouble." My words ought to have remained silent.'' George begin before you interrupted him.

George, no. You've always been the one.. You have always been my first love and I have loved you unconditionally. I will always remember you. I adore you and you alone. I have always loved you and you alone, therefore I will quickly bring you back if need be."" You said, telling him how you really feel.

"Please don't say that, Y/N." George whispered, his eyes gullible.

"George, you understand that this is the reality… Just be honest, please.'' you pleaded.

"I swear, I didn't mean to ruin your marriage," George exclaimed.

I have never loved the person who proposed to me. Geo, I've always loved you. I have always," you replied.

You went on, "Can't you see that?" I have loved you and will always love you.''

George kissed you on the lips and remarked, "I always had feelings for you too, Y/N."

You returned the kiss. "George, I've always loved you."

''Get in my car, quick, before the fangirls arrive,'' George urged.

You nodded and climbed into George's vehicle. George sped off.

While George was driving, you remained silent. He appeared to be driving far away.

You were shocked to learn that you had canceled your wedding to be with George.

You felt no regret at all.

George drove for an extensive length of time before coming to a beautiful beach.

As you gazed at the shore, you said to George, "Oh, this is beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you love." George told you.

You blushed.

You and George both exit out of the car.

You grabbed George's hand.

George grasped your hand back.

''You know what, it feels good to not have any fans." George said to you.

''Yeah, it does seem that way.'' You agreed.

George and you kept strolling hand in hand along the beach.

George and you both had similar experiences when you two dated different people. Since he and Pattie lost feelings for each other, they drifted apart. When George and Pattie broke up, you were there for him.

When you caught your partner cheating on you with a woman named Wanda, George was there for you. After finding out, you spend the night at George's place, while your fiancé thought you were spending the night at your best friend's house. When you cried to George about this, he comforted you and held you in his arms.

George was the sweetest guy you ever met plus dated in the past. The fact that you two remain friends despite the split was nice to know, even if it was on and off due to Pattie and your fiancé, who didn't seem to be comfortable with you two having remained friends.

You and George continued to walk along the beach listening to the seagulls and waves.

''Hey Y/N? Though I hadn't planned on this happening, I always imagine this moment sometimes…'' George suddenly said. You were given a kiss on the forehead as he stopped in his tracks.

''Yes, Geo?' You asked as you looked into his beautiful brown eyes with a smile on your face.

''This is something I have always wanted to do. When I first fell in love with you, I knew I was in love with you forever. You were the first girl I ever felt passionate about. Having you in my life made everything better. You inspire me to be a better person. The only thing I could think about when we broke up was that I would lose you forever and this time I'll make sure that I don't lose you forever. I'll make sure of it.'' George said as tears began to spring to his eyes.

''George, I'm still here silly. I won't go anywhere.'' You giggled a bit as you wipe his tears away.

''Like what I mean is, I'm still here in your life and I already know how you feel about me George. I feel the same way about you.'' You smiled softly at him.

Listen… darling… what I am trying to say is…'' George got down on one knee in front of you and pulled out the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen. "Y/N L/N Will you be my wife? Will you marry me?" George asked.

You looked around the beach in shock and then back at George. You nodded, tears of joy streaming down your face. George put the ring on your finger, and you two embraced in a passionate kiss.

''While I know it was a bad thing for me to propose to you after you left your wedding and ex-husband, I just couldn't wait any longer. My heart belonged to you. George mumbled through the kiss you shared. You and George were kissing nonstop.

''George, stop talking. I've always loved you. "You are my heart," you whispered as your lips brushed against his.

''I promise to never let you go my dear.'' George said as he picked you up and spun you around. "I am so glad I finally have you baby, and I cannot wait to become Mrs. Harrison.".

You and George could feel the joy and love in the air, and you two knew that this was meant to be. You and George were meant to be together. You both vowed to stay together through thick and thin, no matter what life threw your way.

As soon as you and George became husband and wife, you guys promised that the two of you would love each other and cherish every moment together.

[harryforvogue]

Part One | Chapter One: Love Made Me Crazy

London, England

April 1917

Harry doesn't ask me to marry him. He tells me to.

I've never put much importance on marriage. All the marriages I've grown up around have been arranged. They have always been mere transactions, so to be a part of that exchange is something that's never intrigued me. The thought of breaking the cycle of unhappy marriages I've seen since I was younger is daunting, too big of a task to put on my shoulders. I do look at Harry and think I'd like to be with him for the rest of my life. We've talked about vows and whether we, being an irreligious duo, should bother to wed in a church, however, this seems to be in the future, years and years from now.

He springs it on me on my 24th birthday after everyone has gone to sleep. Due to the fact that I've been living with his family every summer, he's had to sneak into my room, sitting beside me on my bed. We're far too tired to be intimate tonight, thanks to the party his sister, Thea, has put together. We've both had some drinks and we're not too far from being drunk. I hold his hand in mine, my cheek pressed to his shoulder.

Harry says it loud and clear so I know it's not just the buzz of the alcohol in my ears. I pick my head up and look at him through heavy eyelids. For a split second, I see two of him. "What?"

His eyes are clearer than mine, voice less drowsy. "Marry me."

I laugh quietly, rubbing my cheek on his shoulder again. "Most men are gentlemen and tend to ask. In a more romantic way, too."

"I'm not asking," Harry says, completely serious. His mouth is in a tight line. I search for any hints of sarcasm, but the man who stares back at me is genuine in his words and expression. His eyes glance down to my mouth briefly. "I'm telling you to marry me."

I push myself off of him. "Sounds more like you're ordering."

"And what if I am?"

"Then I have to yell at you for it. What if I don't want to marry you, you insufferable man?"

Harry smiles fully, pink lips spread across his face, triggering the dimples on either side of that mouth. "Of course you do," he says as he leans down for a kiss. "I shouldn't even have to ask."

Despite the warmth of the kiss, I pull back and ask, "What do you mean?"

"Let's go to the courthouse tomorrow."

This comment forces a chuckle out of me. "Oh? Impatient, are we?"

Harry presses his mouth to my neck. "You have no idea," he gently whispers, all hot breath, biting down on my skin. "Is that a yes, then?"

"Harry," I say, much more sober now, gently prying him away. He holds my hands tightly and searches my eyes, his own softening.

"Annaliese."

"It's only, what, about a year and a half?"

"I know it's been that long since we've been together, but I've been yours for longer. I was born for you. And I want to be with you until I die. I want all the time I can have with you, so yes, excuse me if I'm a little impatient. I don't mind how you want the wedding. If you want to have a big one, then let's do it. If you want to run away, let's do it, Annaliese. Just say yes."

He kisses the expanse of my throat, my jaw, and my cheeks. "Harry, you know I'm not... I'm not in a rush and I'm not going anywhere. I'm still here in London and when I get a job, I'll be around whenever you want me to be."

He pulls away and holds my hands again. "You may not be in a rush, Annaliese, but I am."

"Why? You're young. It's not like you're dying tomorrow."

"What if I do die tomorrow? I'll never have married you."

I swallow uneasily, laying a gentle hand on his cheek. "Harry, you'll still have spent all that time with me. Marriage is just a label."

Something shifts in his eyes. "You don't think marriage is a big deal?" He sounds hurt, maybe even offended.

"Well," I start, taking my hand away, "it's a big deal, maybe, but it wouldn't be any different than what we are now."

"For starters," he quickly says, "we'd be living together, and I wouldn't have to be sneaking around like this just to get a kiss or two, Annaliese. And it's permanent. Don't you want that?"

"We can live together right now. We've saved enough money to last us a long time. Let's look at some places."

Harry frowns, clenching his jaw. "Annaliese, I don't think it's a good idea for us to move in together without being married."

"Why not? Don't be so conservative."

"I may not be conservative, but the whole world is. I mean, imagine explaining to my mother that we're moving in together. And another thing is your family. I haven't even met them. I can't move in with their daughter without speaking with them first."

"What? To ask them for permission?"

Harry shakes his head. "Not permission. I know you'd kill me if I did that. But I'd like to make it known to them that I will not be leaving their daughter's life. And I'm around forever. I don't even know what they're like."

He knows I can't argue with that. There hasn't been any opportunity for him to meet my parents. I've barely seen them myself in recent years save for one Christmas and my 23rd birthday.

"And," he continues, "I want to marry you. I want to make a life with you, not only move into a flat together. I want a house somewhere far away."

"What, like in America?"

His eyes brighten. "Yes, maybe. Let's do it, Annaliese. Marry me. I promise I will make you so happy. I have enough to give you right now."

My stomach flutters suddenly. "Harry, I have never, not even for one moment, ever thought that one day you'd make me unhappy. And I do want to have a future with you, but it's really soon, isn't it?"

Harry sighs and deflates. "Alright. What do you want to know about me?"

"What? I know everything about you."

"So tell me what the real issue is, Annaliese. Are you afraid you'll make the wrong choice? How about this, just agree to marry me, and then we can have a long engagement. I'll get you a ring, buy you a house in a nice neighborhood, make sure we find work in a nice place, and then we can get married. How's that?"

His eyes are desperately searching mine, and he kisses my fingers.

"Mon chéri, I just..." I don't know how to tell him that I'm not afraid of big decisions, but regrets. The last thing I want to do is regret a marriage, and with Harry no less because I wouldn't have anyone to turn to. He's the one I always go to when I have a problem with work or school or even his sister. Without him, who do I turn to? "I just need some time, please."

"Time?" he echoes, shoulders dropping. "For what?"

"To... to make sure!"

"To make sure I'm the one you want to marry?" he says, sounding even more hurt. "Annaliese, we've talked about marriage before."

"Right!" I argue, pulling my hands away, "and I want to marry you someday. I've seen too many marriages fail, too many people grow apart despite being married. I don't want that for us."

Harry stares at me for a long time and then presses his lips together tightly. "I see." He doesn't say anything for a long time. "So is it me?"

"No," I exclaim. "No! Fuck. Harry, I want to marry you, but just not now. I'm afraid..."

"Of what?" he persists.

"Of losing you! Down the road when you grow out of love with me and then we're both stuck in a marriage, unhappy, forever until we divorce. Harry, I can marry you and I can withstand hardships with you, but what I cannot do is divorce you."

Harry's eyes soften. "You're afraid of losing me? Annaliese..."

"Don't you dare say I'm being irrational. How can you believe in marriage after seeing what your father and mother have? And Thea?"

"My love, what you and I have is nothing like my father and mother. And certainly not what Thea and Jack had."

"Thea knew Jack longer than I've known you," I point out.

Harry sighs again. "Yes, but we are different." He squeezes my hand. "We are so good. We're strong."

"And what happens one day when you come home and are disappointed that I'm the one who greets you? And don't you dare say that would never happen, Styles. You know it happens. And if we have children, I will not be raising them single handedly. I'd rather kill you with my bare hands than have you walk out on them."

Harry raises his eyebrows in alarm, lips twitching with amusement. "Annaliese, you have to be more smart about this. I'm not proposing marriage because I've got a primary school crush on you. I love you. You know that."

I do know. I see it in his eyes everyday, every curve of his mouth when I visit him at his stepfather's shop, when he tells me things about his day and then ends with "I wish you were there too." I would be a fool to doubt the love he has for me right now, but I can't guarantee the love he'll feel for me next year, or the year after.

I hold his face, shifting closer. "Harry, I need time. Can I think about this?"

Harry's eyes widen and his mouth forms into a smile. "Annaliese Favreau, are you rejecting my proposal?"

"I'm not rejecting! I'm--"

"Stalling," he finishes, sighing. "Alright. I will give you time."

"Can I tell you by the end of the year?"

He pulls away immediately, horrified. "Absolutely not! Maybe by the end of the month because I'm being so generous!"

End of the month. It's July 7th. Only a little over 3 weeks to give him an answer. "Okay," I muse quietly. "Fine."

He doesn't look too happy about it, but he's not upset either. "Okay," he repeats. "Wow. I never considered that you might reject me. Of course you always surprise me, but still."

"I didn't reject you!"

The teasing smile returns to his face as he leans in to kiss me softly. His mouth is very warm and he tastes faintly of wine.

"Okay," he murmurs, "but you didn't say yes either. I love you."

I press myself closer, unable to get enough of the kisses. "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime."

***

There are other factors that make me reluctant about marriage, not only based on what I've seen in my childhood and young adult life. The war continues, showing no promise of an end. I look at Harry, who's finished with his education and the sole male from his family, fresh bait for the government to draft. The thought causes my knees to buckle, my heart squeezing with discomfort as if it's going to stop beating altogether. I look at him and imagine him far from me, far from his family he loves so dearly, and I want to take us all thousands of miles away. To marry him and have such little time with him? No, I can't mourn Harry.

Harry, on the other hand, isn't all that concerned about the war. He says he's got luck on his side and he's yet to be drafted so far into the war. He'll slip by unnoticed. He doesn't stop to consider he was too young when the war first began, and he's in the prime age for it now.

We don't talk about the war a lot, the thought of Harry joining makes me sick. He may not know too much about war (and his ignorance is sometimes for the better), however, I do know war. Stories of my grandfather in the war of 1870 haunts me, and if the war on the Western Front is anything like that, I cannot fully comprehend the terror I feel.

If we were to marry, I'd take up on his offer to go far from here. America, seemingly, is a safe bet for now.

***

Days pass by in a blur of anxiety. I have an answer for him by the end of the week, after Germany closes in on Paris as she had done years ago. We're at Hyde Park after dusk, walking side by side for some time. Harry doesn't speak, allowing me to gather my thoughts.

We stop at the large willow tree I usually read under and sit down against the hard roots, resting our backs against the dark trunk. It was unbearably hot today, but my sweating isn't caused only by the weather. Although it's dark, the temperature has yet to dip, very unlike the usual gloomy weather of London.

"I have an answer for you," I say, looking at a wilted branch looming over our heads just a few feet away.

Harry looks handsome, the gentle moonlight streaming over his face, light green eyes staring down at me, mouth curved into a smile. "And here I thought you snuck us out to have sex."

"Have sex under a tree in the dark? It's like you don't even know me, Styles."

Harry laughs, wrapping his arms around me, drawing me to his lap. His lips press to my throat, kissing softly. "I'd like to argue that I know you a little too well." He feels my fast pulse and slowly draws back. "Is that a no?" he asks quietly, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"It's not a no," I tell him, resting my hands on his sternum.

"You look so sad telling me yes," he sighs, resting his head back against the trunk. "Annaliese, I won't be angry if you say no. You have every right to say no. I'd just like a good reason as to why. The last thing I want to do is pressure you."

Tears brim in my eyes, and against my better judgment, I do nothing to hide them. In the dark, he can't see them, but he'd surely be alarmed by the sight of them. I rarely ever cry and right now, I feel as if I'm on the brink of hysteria.

"I don't want you to die," I whisper, afraid to raise my voice. "I don't want you to go to war."

The crickets are chirping very loudly, but that may just be because of Harry's silence.

"I'm not going to war, Annaliese," he answers, confused. "Where is this coming from?"

My fingers twist his shirt, unable to look at him. In the summer, he has freckles across his nose and cheeks, his dark hair shorter to keep him from overheating. I know all too much about him, about how his hands are calloused after a day at the printing shop, how he gets ink on his pants and it never comes off, how he often forgets to lock up the shop when he's on his lunch break. All these memories I have of the man I sit with currently will not be made into memories of a widow.

"They're drafting. And you're single. You have no kids. Nothing is tying you down."

Harry takes a big breath and exhales for the longest time. "You can marry me for any reason you want, Annaliese, but I will not let you marry me out of fright."

"Well, it's not you I'm scared of, Harry."

"No," he says firmly, holding my arms. "Annaliese. I want you to marry me because you want to. Not because you feel obligated."

"Obligation or not, Harry, I would do anything to keep you here with me."

Harry sighs again, deeper this time as if he's getting impatient. "I'm not afraid of dying."

"You may not be afraid of it, but I am!" My chest begins to ache from anxiety, breath shallowing.

"And I understand that," he says tensely, "but even if I don't die from the war, I could easily die from something else as early as tomorrow."

"Harry," I continue, holding his collar. "It's not the same. I plan on marrying you one day. And like you, I have no plans of leaving you, so is it so wrong if I marry you now and save you from trouble anyways?"

I can barely see his face except for an eye and the corner of his mouth. His lips are twisted down, his eyes narrowed in thought. My heart thunders in my ears, breath quickens to an embarrassingly fast pace, fingers trembling. My grip on his shirt is too tight. I let it go and my knuckles ache. The crickets are louder than before.

When he speaks, it's slow and deliberate. "I want you to marry me because you love me and trust me to make you happy. Right now. Not in the future, not years and years from now. I don't want anything else to be a factor in this decision." His body rumbles underneath me, voice deep and understanding. He's such a different man from his father. "I don't care about dying. I told you that a week ago. I just want to be yours."

He pauses to make sure every word hits me, and then continues on, "But, since this is a really big worry of yours... I can negotiate with you."

"Why?"

Harry chuckles under me, touching my chin. "Why? Christ, because I love you and I will have you any way I can."

"But I want you to be happy while loving me."

He gently swipes away a tear. "I know, Annaliese, and if you agree, it'll make me very happy. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"If you agree to marry me, only for me and not for any other obligation, I'll take you to America where we'll be far from the war. I told you I wanted to leave England and you want that too. This way, you'll have me without the prospect of drafting, and I'll have you, all to myself. And you won't be able to run away from me."

He tilts his head so the moonlight falls directly on his face and I can see his eager expression, eyes watching me carefully. "How's that?"

I love this man, not only when he's arguing with me about something he's passionate about, but when he's being reasonable against my unreasonable self.

But for how long can we run? And what if the war reaches America by the time we get there? There is no hope in staying in Europe, not with the war raging and ruining every country including mine. That brief thought I had about moving to France with Harry is long gone and foolish to think about now. The siege has not only left me in terror about my family, but about the proximity of how close it is to England, mere hours away from us. Air raids have become more frequent, not yet touching our side, but I hear them at night. I hear the planes while Harry is fast asleep in the other room and I feel it grip my heart in a tight fist. I can't breathe, scrambling out of bed to check if there's one coming towards us. I wait for Harry to arrive at my door, but he pays little attention to the politics of the world, the ones that are so against him.

Running away has always been an option, and Harry has mentioned on multiple occasions that he doesn't plan on staying in England for long. His tense relations with his family and the idea of getting a better paying job in America has always been on his list, but will we be making the right decision? America is not a country away. We would be leaving our past, our families, our notion of safety on these lands. We'd be foreigners, unaccustomed to the culture of America and their ways of living.

I have been an outsider for so long; in my closest circles, in different lands, in my own relationship. And I don't think Harry knows the consequences of leaving. Harry doesn't seem to understand any consequences of decisions that are literally life and death.

But he looks at me with an immense amount of trust, and he gives me a smile. "Don't worry," he says, running his thumb over my face. "I'll keep you fed."

"You know that's not what I'm worried about."

"I'm only joking, my love."

He waits patiently.

"Okay," I say finally, holding his face between my hands. "Merde. I'm saying yes."

A wide grin breaks out onto his face as he scrambles to sit up, hands on my waist. "You'll marry me?" He leans in and kisses me, hard, desperate. "Fuck. You do make me insane, Favreau. Can't believe the things you make me do."

"Better get used to it, Styles," I laugh, sniffling.

"I've been getting used to it for a year now, ma femme."

I hold onto him tightly when he brings me in for a hug, anxiety still prodding at my ribs. My eyes close. I squeeze him and send a quick prayer to whoever is up there to keep the man in my arms save from harm.

[mitochondriencocktail]

50 for the kiss request, and bojere bc just obliterate me at this point /pos

ok u asked for this... (for extra atmosphere... this is the song I pictured.)

50 ...in love

--

The coffee table had been shoved to the far reaches of the cramped living room, only the checkered carpet remaining in the middle. It was far from ideal for dance practice, but Jere had insisted it would be fine. It became quickly apparent that they wouldn't need much space for the skill level they were working at.

"No, step less wide. You're looking boxy."

Jere rolled his eyes, but acquiesced, shortening the width of his side stepping.

Bojan hit play on the YouTube video that was embarrassingly titled How to Learn a Wedding Dance in 5 Steps. It wasn't that Bojan or Jere didn't have any experience, but it'd come to light that when pressed to dance in a formal setting--face to face of all things--it seemed all of their natural rhythm went out the window. How the fuck that worked baffled Bojan. They were two musicians, both of whom danced entirely fine under any other circumstances, but suddenly with their wedding day looming, that was all moot.

"Okay, next we're going to learn how to separate!" the perky dance instructor said through the speakers of Jere's MacBook. Onscreen, she and her partner talked about how the lead should use their body weight to guide, not shove, the follow.

It was the fifth time they'd watched this.

Bojan's elbows jerked awkwardly out, sending Jere springing back.

"Bojan, loosen up," Jere pinged, pulling himself back in close.

"I'm loose! I'm so loose right now."

"That not something someone loose would say."

"Why am I leading?" Bojan blurted out.

"You taller..." Jere huffed. "Plus I not want pressure of it," he cackled.

Bojan sighed. Alright, fine, if Jere wanted Bojan to lead, then he would lead.

"Okay, let's start from the top." Bojan disentangled himself from Jere and shook out his arms and legs, pushing away the anxiously gnashing thoughts of all those eyes of friends and loved ones watching them awkwardly shuffle around a too-big dance floor in the middle of some ballroom that Bojan's family had insisted on. It didn't have to be perfect. It just had to be them on the big day.

Jere paused the video and pulled up their song, a dreamy, melodic slow dance with lots of reverb and sappy sentiment.

A deep breath as the beginning chords echoed through the living room.

Bojan held out his hand, Jere's slipping effortlessly into it. Their eyes met and Bojan let the music wash over him, leading Jere out to the carpet with intense focus, timing it just so to add a twirl before getting into basic position. From here, his lips lined up perfectly with the crown of Jere's head.

As the song continued on, their feet step-tapping in beat, the tension eased from Bojan's body, Jere's infectious optimism about the whole thing bleeding out between them. The weight of every step filled Bojan's heart with a pleasant humming; the gentle strumming and smooth voice eroding away the rough edges of Bojan's frustration like a river over stone.

Using his body weight, he led Jere out into a separation and then guided him back in for a spin, repeating it a few times throughout the song, each one more playful than the last until Jere was bubbling with giggles.

As the song came to a close, Bojan was grinning, soft and gooey like caramel. He dipped Jere down with flourish and the song faded into the quiet of the living room, only their breath audible.

"Sorry, I know I can be kinda fussy," Bojan admitted with a quiet chuckle.

Jere kissed his nose.

"Yes, but I love."

"I hope so," Bojan laughed, "we're getting married in two months."

Jere's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"We are," he beamed.

In that smile, a distillation of a million shared moments; tentative beginnings, heartfelt middles, and a sprawling future with untapped possibilities. It shouldn't have been possible to cram every shared meal and quiet evening and midday walk and grocery haul and international flight and scenic view and cherished 'get home safe' text and silly fight and steadfast comfort into a single look, but Jere was always defying the odds. Achieving the impossible.

Bojan brought Jere up from the dip and kissed him.

[saphscorner]

there's no context for this i've really just been brainrotting and dying to write them again

word count: 724 pairing(s): martyn/mumbo warnings: none general tags & vibes: established relationship, fluff, domestic

Slowly but surely, winter was giving way to spring. It was the first comparatively warm morning of the year, with sunlight streaming into the backyard where Mumbo was stringing laundry onto a clothesline. He had to admit, he liked being able to feel the sun on his skin after the long months of a gray and windy winter. 

Mumbo turned at the sound of the fence gate squeaking open, finishing clipping up the bedsheet so he had a free hand to wave. “Welcome back,” he greeted. 

The gate squeaked back shut, and Martyn was promptly making his way across the yard. “It’s so nice out,” he commented idly, before leaning up to give Mumbo a chaste kiss. 

Mumbo hummed in agreement, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “It is,” he agreed. “You sure took advantage of it, was I still asleep when you left this morning?” 

“I actually don’t know,” Martyn said with a bit of a laugh. “I leaned in to give you a kiss goodbye and you mumbled something entirely incoherent before you just fell right back asleep.” 

“Did I?” Mumbo laughed. “Sorry, I probably meant to say goodbye.” He strung another towel up onto the clothesline.

“It was really early,” Martyn reasoned. “Pretty much with the sun, but I’ve got a whole haul of firewood around front so I’d say it was worth it.” 

“Are you gonna fall asleep early on me tonight then?” 

“Oh definitely. Five o’clock dinner and nine o’clock bedtime.” 

Mumbo sighed. “We’re getting so old,” he teased.

Martyn laughed at that and waved him off. “Don’t say that like we haven’t still got a lifetime to spend together!” He reached down, shaking another damp piece of laundry out – one of Mumbo’s shirts, he noticed – and clipped it up alongside the laundry Mumbo had already strung up. 

Mumbo couldn’t help but smile. His gaze lingered on Martyn, watching the sun catch the gold of his wedding band as his hands dipped back into the laundry basket to continue the work. 

“You don’t have to help,” Mumbo offered. “You’ve been out all morning, do you not want to get off your feet?” 

Martyn hummed. “I prefer the company. And this way, we can get the work done twice as fast. Coffee when we’re done?” 

“Sounds lovely.” 

They were nearing the end of the basket, with Mumbo continuing to work his way down the line stringing up their laundry. The quiet between them was comfortable, natural and familiar in some way. 

Though eventually, Martyn spoke up. 

“Will you call me crazy if I tell you something?” 

Mumbo glanced over at him and blinked. “Depends if it makes you sound crazy.” 

“Fair enough,” Martyn said with a smile. 

“Now I feel like you have to tell me,” said Mumbo. “You’ve got me curious, mate.” 

“I’m kind of just… thinking,” Martyn said with a vague gesture. “Maybe it will make me sound crazy, but some days I feel like I knew you in a past life, kind of like I’ve loved you even more than a lifetime. Except that sounds pretty cheesy.” 

Mumbo hummed. “That’s not totally crazy. Okay, a little, maybe, but is that not normally how people feel about the person they’re in love with?” 

“I don’t know,” Martyn admitted. 

“I always thought so,” said Mumbo. “Like, even the mundane makes you feel more whole and complete when it’s with someone you love?”

“Yeah, but it’s almost more than that too. Deeper…like it completes me in a more… existential way.” Martyn shook his head. “Am I losing you a little here?” 

“Not exactly,” said Mumbo. He shook out the last bit of laundry, stringing the pillowcase up alongside the others before tucking the laundry basket under one arm. “I guess I just don’t contemplate my multi-lifetime existence as much as you do. But you’re still making sense to me.” 

Martyn smiled a bit. Wordlessly, he leaned in to press a kiss to Mumbo’s lips, though was surprised when Mumbo followed it up with another.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Martyn kissed him one more time, before nodding to the back door. “Break time? I’ll make coffee.” 

“Break time,” Mumbo agreed. They crossed the lawn, headed back for the door, when Mumbo paused by the doorway. 

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I think you’re right.”

[sarahscribbles]

On The Throne

Summary: Yet again Loki has allowed a security council meeting to run late. You decide that, this time, you'll go and help hurry it along.

Genre: Fluff, smut

Loki x f!reader

Word count: 3.8k

Loki Masterlist

One hour.

Two hours.

Three hours.

Three hours.

You slammed the heavy tome in your lap shut with a resounding thump, causing two songbirds resting nearby to startle into flight. The early evening breeze tousled your hair, bringing with it the sweet smell of wild jasmine and magnolia; a scent you would always associate with your wedding and with Loki. 

 He had told you, he had told you multiple times this morning, that his audience with the security council would likely last the entirety of the afternoon and that you shouldn’t expect to see him before sundown, but still you burned with impatience. You were hungry for his company, for the rich, safe sound of his voice and the soft feel of his lips on yours as he kissed you hello. 

You missed him. 

From your perch on the open balcony, you watched the setting sun bathe Asgard in a golden glow, the shimmering city appearing almost iridescent in the evening light. Usually, your husband would be by your side by now, a goblet of rich Asgardian wine in his hand while he kept you abreast of state affairs or told you tales of every inch of Asgard to the Bifrost and beyond. 

This evening, though, you were alone. 

Loki had been King for a few short months, your husband for only a little while longer, but you could count on one hand the number of times he had concluded a security council meeting when he should have. He was close to fanatical about the security of Asgard - why, you weren’t certain - and his meetings tended to run well overtime, no matter how much a singular issue had been discussed. 

Despite the centuries you had been together, you still ached for his presence, for his embrace and his touch, after only a few short hours apart. Centuries behind you and millennia before you, yet you still couldn’t get enough of him. 

You would never get enough of him. 

In your chambers behind you heard the distinctive soft click of the double doors opening, a small, unassuming sound that relaxed your whole body. 

Loki had returned. 

Your ears pricked for the dull thud of his boots against the flagstones and the telltale clink of his golden helmet on mahogany; your body braced for the feel of his strong arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders and his warm, sweet kiss pressing against your temple. You were practically vibrating in anticipation of his touch, counting down the seconds it would take for him to cross the chamber to the open arch of the balcony.

Five…four…three…two…

“Your Majesty?”

Oh. 

Masking the bitter disappointment that had settled quickly over you like a sudden spring storm, you turned in the direction of Åse’s voice. Loki’s return was likely a few hours away yet; he only ever sent Åse when…

“His Majesty has been delayed again, my Queen,” she said, her timid voice drifting softly on the evening air. You still weren’t sure why the girl feared you so. Was it because you were Loki’s wife? “He sent me with -”

“With his apologies, yes,” you interrupted her, moving the heavy volume from your lap to stand. Instantly, you regretted your sharp tone. Åse stood in the wide open arch, nervously twisting her hands in front of her, as though she believed you blamed her for Loki’s delay. “I am not angry at you, child. Don’t fret,” you softened your voice, touching a hand to her burning cheek as you passed by into your chamber. 

Her light footsteps echoed along behind. “Would you like me to bring a message back, my Queen?” she asked, the quiet swish of her skirts filling the silence of the room.

You paused to think for a moment. “Yes, you can tell His Majesty that…” you stopped short, a wicked thought beginning to take shape in your mind. “No, Åse, dear, that’s all. You may retire for the rest of the night. I’ll retrieve His Majesty myself.

oOo

“...we can’t possibly hope to strike a deal with the Vanir before Midwinter. There remains scores of bad blood between their King and my father. If we are to truly try and build a bridge between the realms then a diplomatic envoy will need to be sent from Asgard before Midsummer…”

Loki’s deep, commanding voice drifted from under the heavy oak doors to the throne room into the small antechamber where you lingered impatiently. He had been speaking without pause for ten minutes, providing no opportunity for interruption as he laid out his plans to restore the frosty relations between Asgard and Vanaheim. It had been the biggest thorn in his side for all of his short reign and one that he was decidedly determined to pluck out and flick to the dirt. 

His muffled voice continued to float through the imposing wood, only heightening your impatience with each slowly passing minute. You waited…and waited…and waited, until a natural pause in his monologue gave you the chance to heave open one of the doors to the throne room. They had been built to appear ominous, to deter any trivial interruption into state affairs, but to you they were but a minor obstacle standing between you and your husband, Loki long having told you that no matter of state was more important than you were.

His eyes, cold and stern as they addressed his council, flickered to you the second that you stepped through the doors, filling instantly with open warmth. Holding his gaze you leaned against the cool stone of the wall, folding your arms across your chest and cocking an eyebrow at him. Loki’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a knowing smile and his eyes suddenly twinkled with mischief as he turned back to the men gathered before him. 

“My lords, my Queen commands my attention. We will reconvene momentarily. You are dismissed,” he said firmly. 

You watched amused as the men shuffled out, many of them shooting you looks of pure gratitude for providing respite from Loki’s unending peacebuilding quest. When the doors finally shut with a boom that echoed to every corner of the chamber, you turned your attention back to your husband. He had taken his seat on the throne, Gungnir still held proudly in his hand, his legs parting in a wide, inviting V that pulled you in like a bee to nectar. 

“Reconvening momentarily, are you?” you remarked, the soft click of your slippers echoing around the chamber as you ascended to the throne. “Is three hours not long enough to keep me waiting for your company?” You stopped short of stepping between his splayed legs despite the nearly overwhelming urge. 

Loki leaned forward, resting his hands on your hips and pulling you towards him. A small, startled squeak left your lips as you stumbled, but ended up safely perched on one of his muscular thighs. “Anyone would think I hadn’t ravished you thoroughly last night, my love. You’re becoming quite insatiable,” he teased. 

Easily, you looped your arms around his neck, settling into the familiar comfort that came with being close to him. “Perhaps,” you allowed him. “Although can I be blamed when my husband is so exquisite?” you said, delighting in the faint dusting of pink that crept across his cheeks. Unable to wait any longer, you pressed your lips firmly against his, drinking in the taste of him like he was an oasis that quenched your desperate thirst. His lips parted easily for you and soon the only sound in the chamber was that of your kiss. 

Against your thigh, you felt him begin to grow hard, something that only spurred you on. You broke from his mouth, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses along his sharp jaw and down the exposed expanse of his neck, occasionally nipping him with your teeth to mark him as he had you so many times before. Loki shifted beneath you, the slight rise of his thigh pushing you closer against him, his arms locking tighter around your waist. You could feel every quiet hitch of his breath, and when you twisted a hand into his hair to tug it gently, he shivered.

“Darling, as much as I relish your attentions, I can’t keep the council waiting,” he protested. It was weak resistance, you knew; he was already angling his head to grant you better access to continue marking him. 

“You had no such qualms about leaving me waiting,” you remarked, pushing open the parting of his tunic above his armour to mark his collarbone. 

His fingers were instantly under your chin, tilting your head back to make you look at him. “You’re upset,” he stated, his own distress beginning to swirl in his eyes. 

You entertained letting him believe it, but your inability to ever hurt him ultimately won out. “I’m not,” you assured him, cupping his cheek in your palm for emphasis. “I know this side of being King is unavoidable. You are only doing your duty.” You ghosted your thumb across his cheek. 

“You know there is nowhere in this universe I would rather be than with you, my love,” he replied, leaning in to your touch. 

“I know,” you assured him softly. “Which is why I came to you. I can only imagine how you’re wilting from a lack of my affection,” you teased him, warmth seeping through you at the sight of his smile, the smile that was reserved solely for you. 

Gently, as though he still believed you were made of glass, he brought your hand to his lips to kiss your fingertips. “Like a flower under the hot summer sun,” he answered. 

You adopted a look of serious concern, dusting your thumb over his cheek again. “Well, we can’t have that. Perhaps I can revive you?” You bent in to give him another lingering kiss before easily sliding from this thigh to kneel between his spread legs.

A deep rumble of approval sounded from him, and he leaned forward to grasp your chin between his fingers. “You do look delightful on your knees for me, darling,” he purred. “I only hope you can work fast enough so as not to arouse the suspicions of my council.” 

“Don’t pretend with me, my King. I know how much the thought of an audience excites you,” you shot back instantly.

Loki narrowed his eyes playfully at you. “Little minx,” he said softly, leaning back to raise his hips just enough for you to yank his trousers down this thighs, exposing him full to you. 

His cock stood proudly before you already hard and demanding your attentions. For a moment you did nothing only watch him, letting him wait…and wait…and wait. When his strong brow begin to knit together and his lips began to part, you bent in to apply the barest hint of pressure with your tongue from base to tip, doing nothing but coat him in a thin sheen of your saliva. Loki’s hips rose off the throne in a silent command for more, but you sat back on your heels and peered up at him with feigned innocence. 

His head snapped forward on his shoulders, green eyes glittering darkly with quiet threats when they found yours. “Don’t tease me, my pet,” he said, a faint note of warning creeping into his raspy voice.

“Not even a little bit?” you replied, quickly pressing your lips to his bare thigh, pulling a soft groan from him. You sucked mark after mark into his pale skin, the little patches of red that slowly blossomed underneath sending a jolt of pure power straight to your head. These were your marks, he would be adorned with your marks. 

He was yours. 

High on the feeling of it, you continued to pepper a myriad of further marks across his skin, wanting his entire body to be claimed as yours. The soft little sounds of pleasure that he released above you in an unending stream confirmed just how much he did love to be teased.

“Darling?” he breathed out above you, his voice now beginning to sound strained. 

“Hmm?” you hummed, still not finished with his thighs. 

“Put that wonderful mouth of yours to better use.”

“As you wish, my King,” you said, watching his cock twitch at your words. You sucked a final bruise into the flesh of his thigh and sat back on your heels, taking in the beautiful sight of him hard and ready for you. A small bead of pre cum glistened on his tip, weeping temptingly and making something deep within you twist. You ran your tongue firmly along the underside of his cock and locked your lips around his tip, swirling around him and pumping the rest of him steadily with your hand. 

“Good girl,” Loki said above you, his head tipping back while his hands on the armrests balled into fists. 

You continued to work him towards release, the feeling of his heavy cock on your tongue and the endless stream of his pleasured moans and sighs floating through the air driving you to increase your pace. You flattened your tongue firmly against him, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips as he steadily climbed the edge. 

On the armrest of the throne, his fingers curled and uncurled, his breathing now coming in short, broken pants as he braced for the flood of pleasure. “Fuck, darling…I’m close,” he panted out. “Keep…doing that.”

His pleasure was just within his grasp, dangling enticingly before him. He was seconds away…another few bobs of your head on his cock…

At the last possible second before his climax consumed him, you pulled off him, leaving a wet string of your saliva clinging to his red and angry tip when he fell completely from your mouth. 

Before you could even draw breath his head was snapping upright on his shoulders, emerald eyes staring daggers when they found yours. “I’m…I’m going to trust…that that was an accident,” he panted, his breath still lost to him. 

You gave him an innocent flutter of your eyelashes. “Were you close, my King?” you asked, swallowing a smirk.

“You are playing a dangerous game, my pet,” he said quietly, leaning forward and bunching a hand in your hair to push you back towards his cock.

“And it sounds like you’re rather enjoying it. Perhaps I should drag it out?” you replied, pushing back against the force of his hand, determined that he wouldn’t have any pleasure until you decided. 

“Do that and I’ll put you over my knee,” he said, pressing you more firmly still towards him. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, my love,” 

His weeping tip pressed against your lips demanding entrance, and with his hand firmly twisted in your hair, you had no choice but to part your lips and take him. A contented groan fell from him when you wrapped your lips back around his cock, running your tongue steadily over his head and pulling a sharp hiss of pleasure from him. His hand bunched tighter into your hair to force you to take more of him, his hips beginning to roll evenly to meet every bob of your head. 

The throne room was filled with his soft moans and grunts of pleasure, the noises filling your ears like the sweetest chorus of a melody. A glance up through your lashes saw his head tipped back in ecstasy against the back of his throne, eyes squeezed shut and lips parted to allow your name to fall from them like a prayer from his heart.

He was close. He was so wondrously close.

Moments before he tipped over, you removed your hand from his cock and slowed down your rapid pace until you were doing nothing but running your tongue along his shaft at a slow, tormenting pace, dulling the little waves of pleasure to practically nothing.

His sharp, agonised whine floated through the air as the edge he had been riding once again ebbed away from him. His hips began to frantically roll into your mouth, desperately seeking its warm wetness to tip him over into a blinding release. You allowed him a few frenzied thrusts before pulling off his cock completely, fighting the press of his hand with great effort, and watching his face above you melting instantly from drunken pleasure to disbelieving betrayal. 

“Darling…darling, please,” the plea fell quickly from his parted lips. “Please…please don’t leave me like this,” he continued to beg, his big green eyes filled with need and the earlier firmness of his voice long since gone. 

Wordlessly, you rose to your feet, feeling heat pool between your legs at the look of utter desperation on his face and the silent pleading in his eyes. “Did you really believe I would, my King?” you asked, smirking at him as you began to hike up your gown. 

The desperate look on his face instantly shifted, a knowing smile stretching his lips and mischief starting to twinkle in his emerald eyes. With his assistance you climbed into his lap, a curse slipping from your lips and a hiss from his when you seated yourself fully on his pulsing cock. “I believe you know better, my love,” he said, voice raspy and dripping with arousal. 

With the feeling of his beautiful, thick length buried inside you, the temptation to ride him until you both saw stars was close to overwhelming. You could take your pleasure from him right here, fill the throne room with the sounds of your cries of ecstasy. You could…

No.

The opportunity had presented itself too perfectly tonight, and you had already got this far…

“Mmm,” you hummed in apparent agreement, bending in to kiss his weak spot right below his ear. “You’ve kept me waiting all night, dearest,” you whispered. “If you want that orgasm you’re going to have to get yourself there.” You bit down on his lobe, delighting in the sound of him sucking in a sharp breath. 

His deep laughter shook your body. “You are very demanding tonight, my Queen. I quite enjoy this side of you.” He turned his head to capture your lips again, his kiss near making you dizzy with need. “As you command.” 

His strong hands adjusted you in his lap and slowly, as though he was the one teasing you, he began to roll his hips to thrust his cock into you. You latched your arms around his neck for balance, twisting one hand back into his hair and giving it a sharp tug, making him shudder and momentarily lose his steady rhythm. 

“You know…exactly…what you do to me,” he breathed out, his hands clamping around your hips like a vice.

You answered him with a kiss, deep and long and full of raw posessiveness. 

He was yours. 

One hand slid from your waist to the small of your back to gently press you closer to him, and, steadily, his thrusts became faster, hitting every sweet spot buried within you and making you fight every instinct and primal desire of your body to roll your hips against his. You remained still, clutching his neck and practically drunk on the sight of him edging himself with your cunt.

“Surely…surely you aren’t going to…make me do all the work, darling?” he panted, small beads of sweat beginning to form on his hairline and his cheeks glowing pink. 

You gave him another quick kiss. “Maybe for just a little while longer,” you teased him. 

A mischievous smirk crossed his face. “As you wish, my Queen,” he replied, instantly switching to thrust into you at a punishing pace and unknowingly driving himself towards an orgasm that you weren’t going to let him have. 

His cock was hitting you at just the right speed and just the right angle, pushing you further and further towards your own magnificent release within every upward thrust of his hips. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, peppering little half moons across his skin and desperately attempting to ignore how good he felt filling and stretching you. You clenched hard around him, drawing another strangled whine from the depths of his throat and watching his eyes flutter shut once again. His chest beneath you was heaving, pink lips parted in silent prayer, and his thrusts quickly began more frantic and erratic.

“Fuck,” he cursed again. “Fuck” His teeth were bared, his hips now jerking wildly into you and making your cunt take every inch of him. You could feel him pulsing inside you, so close to painting you with his seed, so close to a shattering release. 

For another second you drank in the sight of him coming undone beneath you. His lips parted in ecstasy, every tendon in his throat stretched taut against his skin, loose strands of hair falling forward to frame his face. He looked so beautiful, so drunk on the pleasure that your body was giving him that you almost felt guilty about what you were about to do.

Almost. 

Slowly, so as not to alert him to any sudden shift, you placed a hand on each armrest of his throne to brace yourself and, at the very last second before he completely unravelled beneath you, you lifted off him, your cunt clenching in protest as his cock was prematurely pulled out of you.

A tortured shout of frustration left him, his hips bucking wildly in a desperate reach for your warmth. “Darling, please!” he begged, leaning forward in a vain attempt to pull you back onto his lap, but you were safely out of his reach. “Please let me finish!” His breathing was coming deep and hard, his chest heaving from how gloriously close he had been. 

You fixed him with a satisfied smirk, feeling your core clench at the sound of his pleading. “Oh, but we can’t leave your council waiting. You said so yourself, my King, and it’s already been close to a half hour,” you said, straightening the skirts of your gown and bending in to give him another blistering kiss. 

When you attempted to pull back Loki’s firm fingers grasped your chin to keep you in place. “Finish what you started, my love, or you won’t be capable of sitting properly for a week,” he threatened you, his pupils still blown wide with desire. 

“Is that a promise?” you replied quickly. 

“Yes.” 

You grinned wickedly at him, pulling from his grip and fighting the shiver that threatened to run through you at his words. “Then, my King, I’m afraid I really must go. I can imagine your council is beginning to grow restless waiting for your summons, though I imagine your meeting will be finishing sooner than you anticipated. I hope you don’t face any hard decisions,” you taunted him.

“Darling, if you leave this chamber…,” he continued to threaten, but you were already halfway down the steps to his elevated dias. 

“I’ll inform them all that you’re ready for them again!” you called over your shoulder, ignoring his words. “I trust I’ll be seeing you soon, my love.” You heaved open the heavy doors again, Loki’s growl of anguished frustration ringing in your ears. 

You gave him thirty minutes.

Tags: @cake-writes @sineads-art @maevetriesart @lovelysizzlingbluebird @drdaddystrange @thedistractedagglomeration @joyful-enchantress @amethyst-dow @sailorholly @hyperfixating-on-loki  @trickster-maiden @high-functioning-lokipath @mochie85 @vickie5446

[climbthemountain2020]

Hope of Spring - Chapter 20

Find also on Ao3 :) Find Ch. 19 here!

The morning of their wedding was frigid, and when Penny awoke, legs pulled up to her chest and Tamlin running like a furnace at her back, she was more tempted than ever to call the whole thing off and stay in bed the rest of the day. The tongue Tamlin languidly ran along the column of her neck once he sensed her waking only doubled her resolve.

He worked his way around to her ear, giving the lobe a nibble as she arched her back and sighed contently, reaching behind her to grab for him. She heard his breath stutter as her cold fingers snuck past the waistband of his pants.

“Are you positively sure we need to get out of bed, High Lord?” She mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

“Well, my mate, if you’d like to also become my wife, we will have to leave at some point today. Unfortunately, I also think some of our many guests might come harass us if we didn’t show up to our own wedding.” Penny grumbled halfheartedly as he kissed back down her neck, running his teeth lightly over her shoulders and slipping a hand across her abdomen to sweep across her breasts.

“But I can think of so many other ways we could use this time.” she purred, rolling over to run her fingers down the planes of his stomach and tug his pants down his thighs.

“Sunshine, is this meant to be a wedding gift or a distraction?” He groaned as her fingers slipped around the base of him and grasped tightly.

“Why not both?” She grinned devilishly as she slipped below the covers, planting kisses down the expanse of his chest as she lowered herself.

“I will absolutely never turn you down, but should I be offended that you aren’t more excited for our wedding?” He lifted the covers to look down at her, raising a brow in concern. She relished the way he had to close his eyes as she ran her hand up and down the length of him, licking a long stripe up and back down.

“I am excited. But I already get to wake up in a warm bed on a cold morning with the love of my life. Forgive me if I would prefer that to entertaining the countless guests waiting for us.” She slipped the tip of him into her mouth and he growled through his teeth, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “Would you like me to stop so that you can go say hello to your bat boy band?” She finished her sentence and dove, swallowing him as far down as possible and making up the difference with her hand.

“Please don’t talk about the Night Court with my cock in your mouth.” He complained breathlessly, all air leaving his lungs as all thought left his head. “Fuck, Penny.” She swirled her tongue beneath him as she took him in and out, twisting one hand around him and gripping his thigh with the other.

She pulled off with a pop just to look him in the eyes and lowly say, “Yes, sir.” Tamlin practically combusted. She lowered herself back down and got to work, hollowing out her cheeks with each pull, letting his breathy moans spur her on. He gathered her hair in his hands and pulled it up off her face as she gave him an appreciative look from beneath lowered lashes.

“Gods, I’ll never tire of this. You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He mumbled, his eyes closing again as he let the feelings overtake him. She hummed with satisfaction and the vibrations sent him arching. She took her hands off him and let him guide her movements now that she knew he was close. “Penny, I’m going to–” She hummed again and took his thrusts as deeply as she could, looking up into his eyes as he furrowed his brows and his movements stuttered. He called out, coming down her throat in sharp bursts.

“Gods.” He sighed quietly, eyes closed, as she removed him from her mouth and licked her lips.

“Happy wedding day, love.” She smiled at him wolfishly as she flopped towards the edge of the bed. Tamlin made a mad grab for her ankle and just barely missed.

“Where do you think you’re going, Sunshine?” He growled darkly at her, the lust still apparent in his eyes.

“I, for one, have to get ready for my wedding.” She taunted with a smile as she walked towards the bathroom. “You have to go find your merry band of bats and start getting ready, as well. Now shoo! There’s always tonight.” She winked at him impishly and shut the door to the bathroom as Tamlin groused and pulled on his pants.

“You’re walking a dangerous line, my High Lady!” He called through the door, shuffling through his drawers for a shirt to wear. She swung open the bathroom door, entirely naked and looking flushed.

“High Lady?” She asked, looking for all the world like a startled deer in the woods.

“Yes…” He looked at her with confusion. “You…don’t want to be High Lady?”

“I just–I hadn’t thought. I don’t know, I just assumed I would be Lady of Spring for now. I’ve barely been here a year. Won’t they think it odd for me to be a High Lady? I’m still learning.” Tamlin walked over to her, pulling her into his arms tightly.

“Certainly it did not stop Feyre.” She whacked his chest and he chuckled. “The people here love you. They consider you one of them. But I can understand where you’re coming from, too. I want you to be my equal in all things, though. It doesn’t have to be today, but consider it for the future. I want to make sure you’re respected as a decision-maker as much as I am.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Remember, this was thrust upon me, too. I want you to want it, but I won’t force you to take it.”

“Are you trying to pawn your job off on me?” She shoved him lightly, laughing.

“Keep it in mind.” He kissed her once more, slipping the shirt over his head and walking towards the door. “We have time. See you at the wedding?” She lifted a hand to wave at him.

“I’ll be the one in white.” She smiled as he closed the door to make his way down to the study where his friends would be waiting.

__________________

The ceremony was absolutely beautiful, Tamlin had to admit. Feyre, ironically enough, had planned this particular Spring wedding, and with much more enthusiasm than the last one. With Elain’s help, they’d selected the most beautiful flowers to string around the backyard. The rows of chairs were set up by the garden, and peonies and hyacinths bordered the path leading up to the gazebo where they’d say their vows. Though they’d opted to invite all of Spring to the reception following, the ceremony was strictly for High Lords and close friends. Feyre had worked with Eris and Tilly to put up warm shields around the ceremony area, keeping the frigid temperatures at bay for the guests and participants.

Tamlin was nervous, and he couldn’t quite put into words why. He was already mated, for Cauldron’s sake. This was just a ceremony, but he couldn’t stop wringing his hands at the altar. The priestess gave him a knowing smile and whispered “Don’t be nervous, she’s so excited they could barely contain her until the start of the ceremony.” He breathed out a laugh. That sounds like Penny.

Suddenly, music filled the air and the guests sat. They had opted to not have a traditional wedding party; just the two of them up there with all their friends in attendance was enough for them. He shook out his hands one last time and turned to face the aisle.

There, in the setting sun of the late afternoon, was his mate. Shrouded in rays of light, she looked every bit an angel. The breath whooshed out of Tamlin’s lungs like he’d been hit, and he was distantly aware that tears had begun running down his face. But the delight in her eyes rooted him to the spot. She looked at him like he’d hung the moon, and he could tell she was using all her willpower not to sprint down the aisle to him. His lovely, impatient Penny.

Her white lace dress was delicately crafted to hug the soft curves of her body. The arms fell off her shoulders, draping gossamer across the neckline and down to her wrists. She looked like an ethereal being, plucked from the heavens above. And she was marrying him today.

Briefly, he heard Rhys mutter from the front row ��Maybe I should winnow to the aisle with a crack of thund–OW!” Feyre had hit him, and both Penny and Tamlin fought unsuccessfully to hold their laughter.

When Penny reached him, she all but ran the last two steps to take his hands and press a quick kiss to his lips. The priestess cleared her throat and smiled.

“Oh, sorry.” Penny blushed and stepped back.

They repeated after the priestess, smiles so large they felt like they may crack their faces in two. The giddy air of joy surrounded them both, and Tamlin wondered if he’d ever been so happy as he was in this moment. The priestess wrapped their hands in ribbon as they both said the words “You are mine, and I am yours. From this day, until the last of our days, and then on into eternity.” Finally, the priestess allowed them to kiss, and Penny refused to keep it chaste this time as a chorus of hoots came from their friends .

______________________

The Spring Court manor was lit up from within and the party overflowed to the outside, too. Since rumors had flown that the manor had been restored to its former glory, everyone who could possibly make the trip had done so, curious to see the rebuilt manor and its new lady. Penny felt like she’d spent the better part of the last few hours meeting new people and dancing with her husband and friends, and her feet were absolutely killing her. She plopped down into a chair near the doors to the back veranda, open to the guests, and sighed contentedly. She’d never allowed herself to imagine what a wedding might look like for her one day, but this certainly would have outdone any wild imaginings.

Tamlin, shirt undone and definitely a bit more than tipsy, jogged over to her and sat down with a great breath.

“You stopped dancing!” He said, panting.

“Yes, about the time you joined the dance line with Cassian and Lucien. My feet feel like they might collapse.” Without another word, he hefted her foot up onto his thigh, knocked her shoe off and began pushing his thumbs deep into the arch of her foot. She let her head drop back and couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her.

“Keep that up and you’ll have your work cut out for you tonight,” she laughed.

She looked out across the floor at their court and friends, mingling, dancing, taking in the manor, and she was proud to call this home. Her friends took up the majority of the dance floor, all a bit tipsy, save Elain, who had come to Spring for the wedding ceremony, then promptly returned to Night to eat some cake Penny had sent her with and lay back down. Lucien had winnowed her back then returned to the revelry at her insistence. Elain was in the final stretch of her pregnancy now, and Penny couldn’t honestly believe she’d left the Night Court at all. But Elain had searched her visions for weeks beforehand, deemed it was safe for her to attend her friends’ wedding, and then nothing could sway her otherwise.

“Did Lucien say Elain made it back safely?” Penny asked.

“Yep, he left her on a big fluffy couch, in a nest of big fluffy blankets, with a plate of food and a slab of cake.” He laughed. “I can’t believe she insisted on coming.”

“Gods, me either. When that’s me, you won’t catch me moving off this property.” She chuckled, but Tamlin’s hands had frozen on her foot. She realized what she’d said then shot up to look at him, seeing nothing but shock and hope in his eyes.

“Is that…you want…do you want that?” He stuttered through the question.

“Of course I do. Don’t you?” He nodded so quickly and violently that she marveled how he hadn’t strained his neck.

“I wasn’t sure. You’d never said. And I would never have asked. I just want you to be happy. You’re all I ever need, Penny. But it would be the honor of my life to be the father of your children.” Silver lined his eyes as he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m happy to start as soon as this war is behind us.” She smiled contentedly and leaned back. “Though we can certainly practice before then.” She raised an eyebrow at him and then looked to the dancefloor, her friends and family dancing in one massive cluster, throwing their heads back in laughter as they pressured a stammering and blushing Eris into some sort of choreographed routine, Tilly cackling and clapping nearby.

She was so thankful for this group of people that she’d found in the last year–against all odds, considering the history between them all. To see them all here, in Spring, at Tamlin’s wedding was a miracle in and of itself. And to see the joy radiating off all of them while they danced wildly, laughing and celebrating, brought tears prickling at the back of her eyes.

“You okay?” Tamlin asked softly beside her.

“More than okay. This is….” She exhaled, gesturing out to the dance floor. “This is more than I ever dared to imagine or hope for.” She gripped his hand tightly in hers. “Thank you, Tam.” The emotion threatened to choke her words back down her throat. He pulled her close to his side, leaning his temple down to rest on her head.

“You are responsible for all this joy, Penny. All this happiness. All these people are here because of you.” She closed her eyes and swallowed.

A partial vision flashed behind her lids, fragmented as they always were when she didn’t have Elain’s powers at present. They were just flashes, like an ill-lit slide show, but the scenes made her grin with joy. Children, of all ages, running up and down the hills of Spring. Two of them, both with wings, taking flight over a willow tree, one of which held a giggling redhead girl pretending to fly while grasped in his arms. A small blond on the shoulders of a tall boy with inky black hair, running to catch up with the rest. Two blonds and a girl with hair of fire, followed by another winged girl, punching each other on the shoulders as they laughed uproariously and ran up the hills in a group. The vision was gone as soon as it had started, but the glee threatened to burst her heart.

She grabbed Tamlin’s hand and stood. “Come, let’s sneak off. We’ve got unfinished business, husband.” She said suddenly, conspiratorially, waggling her brows. His eyes lit up immediately, and he stumbled to his feet. He took off after her down the hallways of their manor, giggling like kids as their court and friends and family continued to dance the night away.

Outside, as the first lights of dawn started to color the far horizon, the first snowflakes of the year began to fall.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Oh hon'rable moth'r! Wouldst thee beest kind enow to blesseth this po'r soul with some wlw angst?

It wasn’t like she didn’t have anything to say about the situation. There were millions of thoughts racing through her head but not even a single one was willing to manifest into an actual question.

At the end, it was the villain who broke the silence. 

“You look well,” she said. The hero looked up from her steaming coffee. Cruelly enough, it was a wonderful day with sunlight kissing the spring leaves and soft clouds passing by. The city was calm, peaceful even and though the hero truly missed those days when she had been needed, she knew that it was better this way. 

“Thank you. I’ve been trying more to take care of myself. You always encouraged that,” the hero said. The coffee shop was cozy and not even that bad but the hero wasn’t really focused on that. They weren’t even focused on anything in particular, not even the villain who looked oh so beautiful today.

“For the record, I still encourage that.” The villain smiled sweetly, maybe even a bit absentmindedly but the hero felt sick nonetheless. Meeting her seemed wrong. Especially after a year of no contact.

A long silence stretched between the two of them with nothing but the sound of spoons clinking on dishes and baristas using the machines in the background. There was some kind of eeriness in the air, something she could not put her finger on. 

“I asked you to come here because I wanted to thank you,” the villain eventually said. “You know, sometimes people come into our lives and it changes everything. There is nothing we can do about that.” 

Her smile was genuine, compassionate. The hero didn’t know what to do with that. The implications were clear: the hero had taught her that compassion. 

“You have changed me, too,” the hero said. Why did she feel choked? 

“I am so proud of you, you know? You saved the world. You achieved everything you ever wanted,” the villain continued. The hero bit her lip. 

“I didn’t,” she said. She took a sip of her coffee and when she saw that the villain had raised her eyebrows, she cleared her throat. “I didn’t achieve everything I wanted.”

“Isn’t saving the world kind of a big deal?”

“Well, I didn’t get the princess in the end.” Suddenly, the coffee seemed to taste more bitterly and the villain avoided eye contact.

“I think we were on good terms when we broke up,” the villain said. “We got very lucky.”

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”

“No, it clearly doesn’t.”

“I wanted a future with you.”

“Listen, I wanted that too, I—”

“I didn’t know you got married,” the hero finally said, her eyes dropping to the villain’s ring. Everything got quiet and it felt like the break up all over again. Like her heart was being boiled for fun. “You didn’t even invite me to the wedding.”

The hero had thought she was fine. She’d thought she was living a new chapter of her life, leaving everything behind her without big regrets.

But that wasn’t true. It was all a lie, strings attached everywhere, pulling on her nerve cells whenever the tiniest thing triggered her. She was still the same: scared and lonely.

“Would you have come?” the villain whispered. There were tears in her eyes.

“No,” the hero said. “In one year someone else gave you so much more than I could in five. I would have scratched out their eyes.”

The hero downed their coffee and it burnt her throat. She welcomed the pain calmly. 

“I really loved you,” the villain said. “It was just not the right time.”

She stared at the villain. And then she broke her own heart.

“I wish I’d never met you.”

[hanayori89]

Let Love Be

*Ordon Village*

Link finally arrived back in Ordon after an exhausting wedding outing. He wondered where to look for Y/N. He kept his eyes peeled around Castle Town, but to no avail. Link was certain she had left. She had to be somewhere in the village.

I'll check the spring. I should stop home and grab towels in case she went swimming. There's someone I need to talk to first. Link turned in the direction of Rusl's house.

The only father he ever knew.

The faint glow of torches beckoned to Link as he approached. Rusl's house had a well lived-in feel, something Link's own house lacked. The only camaraderie to be had was between Link's two feet stomping around on his wooden floor. His thoughts constantly spoke to him, no matter what he did. When he ate. When he did chores. When he relaxed. When he tried to sleep. Which, as a result, gave Link crippling insomnia. He couldn't escape the constant chatter of his mind that bellowed throughout his empty home. Aside from Ilia, who, if she had her way, would move in with Link, Colin would visit sometimes. Of course, if there was Colin, there were also Talo, Malo, and Beth. But Link's bare house held little desire for rambunctious children. It held little desire for Link himself.

Link tapped lightly with his fist on Rusl's door. The door hovered slightly in a cracked position before slowly opening. Link was greeted by the googly blue eyes of Colin.

"Link!" He jumped up as high as he could in order to embrace him. Link knelt partially, scooping Colin in his arms. "Hey Kiddo. Is your dad here?"

"Aww, shucks, Link! We are supposed to train! What if evil comes and we aren't ready!" Colin folded his arms. "Hmph!" He lifted his chin away from Link to emphasize his displeasure. Link let out a helpless cackle. "Heh. I haven't forgotten about you, Colin. I promise. Let's just say I am working on some top-secret stuff that I can show you soon?"

"Pinky promise!" Colin stuck his pinky up. Link retrieved it with his own pinky. "I pinky promise."

"Colin! Come eat!" Uli appeared from the kitchen and called out to Link, "Hello Link!" Her face was pleasantly round and aglow from the life settled inside her womb. She held a wooden spoon and wiped a sweat bead from her forehead. "Can I offer you dinner?"

Link shook his head. "Hello Uli. No thanks. May I speak with Rusl for just a moment?" Rusl walked in from another room, greeting Link. "There's my boy. What brings you here?" He sashayed over to Uli, licking the wooden spoon in her hand and grinning. "Link, this is delicious. Are you sure you don't want to stay for some stew?" He dotted kisses across Uli's forehead as she giggled, "Rusl! Just think this will be you soon Link."

Link couldn't contain the ugly frown that appeared on his lips. Rusl caught sight of it, excusing himself from Uli and Colin. "Let's step onto the porch." Rusl offered.

Once they were away from prying eyes, Rusl inquired, "What's eating you, boy?"

Link nervously tousled his hair. "What do you mean?"

"I may not be your biological father, but I've known you long enough. That bruiser of a frown you gave us in there. That isn't the first time it's appeared. Any time we mention your engagement, it's visible like a flock of birds in the sky. "

They both watched the serenity of the breeze that passed through the trees overhead. Rusl continued, "You aren't in love with Ilia."

Link didn't deny or confirm Rusl's accusation. Rather, he conceded it with another question. The question he kept asking himself yet couldn't answer. "Do you think I'm a fool?" Link grabbed Rusl's railing, bouncing himself up into the breeze. He took a whiff of the pine and oak, which tickled his senses. Link continued, "Ilia is beautiful. She's prestigious. She's been my friend since I could walk. We can be comfortable with each other. Why do I not want to marry her? What's wrong with me?"

"It takes more than beauty and prestige to capture a heart. I do have a theory. Care to listen?" Link took one more bounce into the breeze, closing his eyes. "Tell me."

"You're attracted to that girl that appeared in our village yesterday. I may have said some things, which, again do not repeat to Uli. She's very sensitive right now. It's evident Fado also said some things. I can guarantee that out of the two of us, neither one of us looked at her the way you did. I can also guarantee she looked at you the same way."

This got Link's attention. "What are you saying, Rusl?" Is my attraction that obvious?

"I'm saying you both feel the same pull towards one another. I'm saying that pull is dangerous for an engaged man. I'm saying that I know my boy is one of valor. You would never hurt Ilia, this I know. There may come a choice though. The choice is whomever your heart chooses."

Link looked down at his feet. His bangs hid the contempt he felt toward himself. "Princess Zelda has requested that I accompany Y/N on her journey. Rusl, she is of twilight. We can never be. Wouldn't that settle the choice?"

"Link, love can always be. I love the way the sun hits the water. I am a human, and the sun, a star. Does that mean I cannot love the sun? That I cannot love the water?" Rusl rested his hand on Link's shoulder and gave him a supportive nod.

"Do right to all parties involved. Let love be."

*

You weren't sure if returning to Link's home was a smart idea. You really didn't have anywhere else to go. You secretly couldn't wait to get away from Aryn. He spoke ad nauseum about the wonders of Lake Hylia, as though he were a scholar and not an ice cream vendor. You were also starting to feel uncomfortable from the constant double takes of your body.

So, why had you agreed to go on a date with him tomorrow? Since he was friends with Ilia, you didn't want him to see you go to Link's house. You had him drop you off at Fado's ranch instead. Once Aryn departed, you couldn't help but revel in the relief.

What have I done? Did I agree to that date for the experience, or to get back at Link? What was I getting back at him for, exactly? Ilia had been in his life for a long time before I came along. Why is the light bringing out so much ugliness in me? You made your way to Epona's stall, praying she was there. She wasn't.

With Link not home yet, you weighed your options. Should you try to find lodging elsewhere? Link was already upset. You may as well compel his request to stay lodged together. You were also a bit disturbed by how he acted. You wanted to make sure he was okay, especially after he stormed off. You also wanted to assuage your own guilt. You had no right to treat him the way you did. Not for his life that existed before you came into it. Everything you felt was so bewildering. You tried to pinpoint what you were feeling.

You made a compartmentalized list of things you'd ask Midna. The first being the disgust at seeing Ilia and Link together. It bothered you that they bothered you so much. Then there was the way Link acted. Which was accompanied by a gnawing sensation to soothe things. To see him smile again. Also, what did one do on a date? You would have to ask Link to help you. Midna might not be useful on the subject.

There was something else that had been bothering you. A small betrayal of sorts. Midna had distinctly told you she had the only piece of the Mirror of Twilight that remained. If Princess Zelda obviously had one, why did Midna lie to you? What was she trying to cover up with her lie? And more importantly, were there other shards of the mirror? You weren't sure if you'd bring it up to Midna or if you'd hold off until a more appropriate time. Whenever that would be.

"Y/N?" You turned to see Fado shuffle toward you.

"You know the ranch is closed? Unless you enjoyed working here that much, I could find other things for you to do." He gave you a wiggle of his eyebrows to appear suggestive. Then he laughed off his flirtation. "Ah, Epona is not here. You are not with Link?"

"Link is not happy with me." You responded glumly.

"HA! This proves my point that Link has been intolerable since news of his engagement broke. I'm sure he is not mad at you. He's just under stress. Pre-wedding jitters and all that." Fado walked towards the barn door and began to fiddle with the lock. A cucco clucked at Fado from behind, startling him.

"HEY! If you don't get back in your coop, I'm going to make dinner out of you!" Fado threatened the clueless cucco. He gave him a surly cluck before he pranced around Fado. Fado chased him towards the coop. You felt the same bubble of laughter clog your throat. Just like the first time you met him when he fell. People in the Realm of Light were, if anything else, amusing. You felt the bubble burst as the cucco pecked at Fado's behind. You began to laugh uncontrollably.

That's when a wonderful idea settled in your mind. You thought about how Link asked what you ate in the Twili Realm. You would cook him a delicious dinner. One that was more substantial than bread and fruit. It wasn't your place to judge, but you secretly wondered why Ilia wasn't cooking him meals.

"Fado?" You called out. He walked toward you, his chest puffed out. "That little bugger! Did you need me Y/N?"

"Would you happen to have any cucco meat and potatoes?" You began to rummage through your pocket for some rupees.

"Ah, ah. None of that. I do have some cucco meat and potatoes. They're on the house, if you promise to save me a plate?"

On the house. Of course. You gave him a warm smile. "Yes. Of course."

Fado blushed at your sincerity. "Wait here for me!" He stumbled inside his house, leaving you alone for a brief moment. You were excited to try your hand in the kitchen. Twili food may not be lavish like Hylian food, but it was filling. Comforting. Link needed comfort. You should only hope you can get it done before Link arrives home, as the sun was beginning to set.

You've heard the phrase,"The quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach." At least Midna had picked that up here in the light. You decided to test this theory. You were hoping that the quickest way through Link's mood would also be through his stomach. If you happened to capture his heart as well, that would be a welcome bonus.

A/N: Edited 11/13/22

Thanks to the imparted wisdom of Rusl, a determined Link makes his way back to you to make things right. Meanwhile, thanks to the generosity of Fado, you are also inspired to try your hand at a peace offering with the hero. However, unbeknownst to the hero, your peace offering comes with a price. Will the invigoration you both feel be enough to get the train back on the right track? Or will news of your upcoming date lead to its derailing?

Check out my other completed OOT Zelda work- No Woman Beyond

[alj4890]

The Green-Eyed Monster

(Ethan Ramsey x OC* Sophie Triano) in a Choices Open Heart drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge: with the prompt: a kiss shared to make someone else jealous.

Rating: PG for some language and heated fluff

A/N thanks @hopelessromantic1352 for choosing the couple for this kiss prompt 😂 It let me delve more into exploring how these two would react when jealous.

@hopelessromantic1352 @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @choicesficwriterscreations @choices-readerandlover @annfg8 @jerzwriter @trappedinfanfiction

Masterlist

The windows of Leland Bloom's mansion sparkled in the darkness. Lights all along the bottom floor glowed, beckoning one to join in on the festivities currently underway. Couples mingled outside as they slowly made their way into the stately home.

Sophie was more than looking forward to attending the event. It was the first time she was going as Ethan's date. She'd met some of the doctors he worked with at Donahue's, but tonight marked the point where she was being officially shown off as his significant other.

Ethan wasn't particularly looking forward to going, even with the pleasure of Sophie's company. He barely tolerated Leland Bloom and to be stuck for evening in the man's home was too much to contemplate.

Sophie squeezed his arm as they ascended the front steps.

He glanced down at her in question.

"I'm excited." She whispered.

"Over what?"

"Everything!" She smiled up at him. "Being with you, this party, seeing how billionaires spend their money."

Ethan snorted. "I don't know about the last two, but it is nice to spend an evening with you."

She beamed at him. "We've been working so many late nights lately." She rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I've missed you."

Ethan slipped his arm around her, drawing her close. "I'm willing to take you back to my place and make up for all the absences."

Sophie's smile turned sultry. "I'm going to hold you to that."

Her eyes traveled down his body. "But first, I'm ready to see what an Edenbrook party is like."

Ethan rolled his eyes as he followed her inside. "Trust me. It isn't anything special."

"I'll be the judge of that." She teased.

Her eyes darted here and there, taking in everything.

"Should we go to the bar or the buffet first?" He asked.

Sophie snorted softly at the sound of resignation in his voice.

"The bar. Something tells me you're going to need something to help you get through the next few hours."

Ethan's lips curved.

"You know me so well."

Sophie tugged him into a quick kiss.

Ethan's hands lingered on her waist.

"Any chance you're willing to leave now and continue to do that?" He asked.

"At least give me a minute to check out his desserts. I'm curious to see who he got to cater this event." She looped her arms loosely around his neck. "Plus you deserve a drink or two."

"Three." Ethan groaned when he caught sight of their host.

"Ah, Dr. Ramsey." Leland greeted, while looking solely upon Sophie. "Glad you could make it."

"Leland." Ethan managed to keep his tone even.

"And who is this?"

"This is Sophie Triano." Ethan kept his arm around her waist, letting the man see she wasn't just some mere date.

She smiled warmly at the elderly man and held her hand out while complimenting his home.

Leland's own smile twinkled as he shook it. "I shouldn't be as delighted to meet you as I am after your refusal."

Sophie's eyebrow raised in question.

"My Caroline was hoping for your desserts to grace our tables, but your manager denied us such a pleasure, no matter how much money I offered."

"It's spring." Sophie explained. "The wedding season is starting earlier than usual. I couldn't drop those orders to cater your party at the last minute."

"If you'd been told the price I offered, you would have." Leland needled. "Think of the business you would have gained doing so."

Sophie shook her head with a smile. She was determined not to be intimidated.

"Mr. Bloom, as a business man, you know that the one way to lose money is by alienating your clients by breaking your word. I'm not about to anger the clientele I am cultivating for a quick cash grab nor ruin the reputation Veronica and I have in the pastry business. People know that when they order anything from us that they will not only get it on time but will also be given the best of what we can do."

Ethan couldn't have been more pleased with Sophie's ability to fluster the old man.

"You would have gained even more business tonight." Leland argued, waving about the room. "My guests are the type who wish to wow people at parties and your desserts would have been part of that."

Sophie shrugged. "Then that's a loss I'll have to deal with. For now though, I'm going to enjoy being one of the guests you intend to wow."

Leland reluctantly smiled at her. "Then I insist on you giving your opinion later about the pastry chef I had to settle on after your refusal."

He glanced at Ethan. "Enjoy yourselves. I see some other guests I must greet."

Sophie sagged against Ethan once Leland left them alone.

"I've never wished for Terry's intimidating presence more so than just then." She said of her bakery manager. "This is why I stay in the back room working on cakes."

Ethan tilted her chin up. The back of his fingers caressed her cheek. He was about to say how impressed he was with her standing up to Leland, only to be interrupted by someone else.

"Ethan!" Harper exclaimed. "I thought you weren't coming tonight."

Her eyes narrowed slightly on the couple before her.

"Sophie insisted." Ethan chuckled when she nudged him with her elbow.

"Really?" Harper's eyebrows raised. "I'm impressed. I don't know too many people who can change his mind."

"It wasn't easy." Sophie teased, smiling up at him.

"True, but you knew how to end my argument by walking out in that dress." He squeezed her waist.

Harper managed to keep smiling. "That was the only way I ever got him to go along with my plans."

Sophie stiffened somewhat. She was unaware of Ethan's past with this particular doctor.

"Remember our first year at the medical conference in Miami?" Harper's smile turned flirty. "You refused to go out until I wore that little red dress."

Ethan shook his head with a smile. "That wasn't why I went. It was either you or staying and listening to Fawkes go on and on about that new bladder procedure he'd heard about."

Harper winked at him. "I think we both know my red dress made that night better."

Sophie was livid as the two reminisced some more. No one would have known though by the pleasant expression on her face.

"I'm so glad you're here. There is someone I want you to meet that I think could use our help. I can't find Chris and Tobias, but I believe this woman's son needs to be seen by our team." Harper refocused on Sophie. "You don't mind my stealing Ethan away for a little while, do you?"

Sophie shook her head. She didn't trust her voice to give an answer.

Ethan promised to find her soon as Harper slipped her arm in the bend of his.

Determined not to stand there sulking, Sophie walked over to the buffet tables. Grabbing a plate, she dropped various treats upon it.

"Easy there." A familiar voice teased. "If anyone should know that presentation is part of enjoying what you eat, then it should be the top graduate of our class."

Sophie whirled around. "Blake!"

"Sophie!" He responded with a smile.

"You're the caterer for this party?"

"I am." He added a few more desserts to her plate for her to try. "If I'd have known you would be here I would have gone above and beyond with my menu."

She chuckled, relieved to see a friendly face. "Trust me, I know how excellent your skills are."

The two fell into a conversation about what they'd been doing the last few years.

"So how did you get invited to this?" Blake teased. "I thought our kind only worked these types of parties."

"I'm dating one of the doctors at Leland Bloom's hospital." Sophie pointed Ethan out.

A slight frown firmed on her lips to still see Harper's hand tucked within the bend of Ethan's arm.

"Speaking of dates," Blake nodded to the other side of the room, "Vince is here."

Sophie's head jerked around to see one of her exes.

"Of course he'd be here." She grumbled.

Her night couldn't get any worse.

"I have to get back to work." Blake patted her shoulder. "I'll see you when I'm released from the kitchens."

"Have fun." She called out when he hurried off.

********************

As Ethan listened to the various symptoms the woman noticed her teenage son having, his attention drifted over to Sophie. He'd seen her smile and talk with another chef. The two apparently knew one another well.

He'd also noticed she did not seem as happy as she'd been when they first arrived. He had a feeling he knew the reason why, but there was little he could do about it now.

He wasn't certain why Harper enjoyed bringing up their past as much as she did. He was used to Chris and Tobias's eye rolls whenever his ex brought up memories of their time together. Chris even pointed out one day when they were alone that she thought Harper might do this in an attempt to make him want to get back together with her.

He eased his arm out from Harper's hand as he realized that the lingering touch might give everyone the wrong idea.

There was only one woman he was here with and Harper wasn't her.

His attention drifted once more to check on Sophie. He felt his body stiffen at the sight of a ridiculously handsome man standing before her. The stranger took Sophie's plate out of her hand, set it down, and grasped her hand in his as he led her into another room.

Ethan had to lean somewhat away from the group he was standing with to see into the next room. A band had been set up there for couples to dance to. In the crowd, he noticed Chris and Tobias lost in each other and swaying to a slow song.

He frowned at the sight of them. If they hadn't decided to spend this party dancing, they could have been found by Harper and dealt with this while he was able to be with Sophie.

He then saw the strange man pull Sophie into his arms for a dance. Ethan could feel the sexual tension between them from here. His eyes narrowed upon the man's fingers moving along Sophie's back. The two were talking, with Sophie turning and pointing towards Ethan.

The two men locked eyes, each not bothering to hide their instant dislike of the other.

"What do you think?" Harper touched Ethan's arm again to get his attention.

"What?" Ethan snapped his eyes back towards her and the very concerned mother. "I think you should bring your son to our office first thing in the morning so we can do a full examination. We should be able to pinpoint what is causing these erratic symptoms."

He excused himself, telling Harper to make the plans. With his long legged strides, he made his way into the next room.

*****************

Sophie knew it was foolish to agree to anything Vince suggested. After all, she had been the one to end things with him. But seeing Ethan and Harper together made her want a little revenge of her own. She hadn't realized how deep her feelings towards the doctor ran until she saw him with what was clearly an ex girlfriend of his.

After Vince bragged on his robotics skills being the one to make the cute little robots at Edenbrook, he'd convinced her to dance with him.

"If the man you're with can't take the time to dance with you," he'd argued, "then he'll have to deal with the consequences of someone else taking his place."

She knew though that Ethan had not left her to simply be with other people. He was genuinely trying to help someone. She couldn't stay angry over that.

But I can over Harper, she reminded herself.

"You're really into this doctor, aren't you?" Vince pressed her closer.

"I am." Sophie replied, pulling back a respectable distance.

"Even though he has been standing over there with some other woman hanging not only on his every word, but also onto his arm?"

Sophie stiffened. "Yes."

"You're not the same woman I knew." Vince observed. "There is no way you'd have let me get away with that type of behavior."

Sophie rolled her eyes. "That's because you liked having other women hanging onto you and your every word."

"So this Evan--"

"Ethan." She corrected.

"Ethan isn't the same? There isn't a man here who doesn't like his ego stroked." Vince argued.

"Ethan doesn't need his ego stroked." She snapped. "He's a man who is confident in all he does. He doesn't need validation from anyone."

"Doesn't he?" Vince noticed the angry doctor storming into the room.

Ethan certainly looked like a man who needed his confidence in Sophie returned.

Finding the pair on the dance floor, Ethan made his way over to cut in.

He was having a difficult time squeezing through the couples.

Vince decided to try a little experiment. After all, Sophie couldn't have been dating him long if her jealous reaction was anything to go by. He wondered if Ethan felt just as strongly.

Before Sophie could react, he captured her lips in a tender kiss.

She shoved him away from her in angry shock.

"What the hell Vince?!" Her chest heaved in an attempt to calm down.

He held his hands up to both ward her off and in surrender.

"I couldn't let this moment pass us by, Soph." He admitted. "You know I want you back. I have for years now."

"I don't want you." She bit out.

Vince smiled sadly at her. "Then that's my cue to leave and plan for another chance."

"There isn't going to be another chance." She huffed, folding her arms and looking away from him.

"There's always a chance." Vince directed that towards the man standing directly behind her. "Just remember that."

He left, grinning over what he'd noticed.

Ethan Ramsey was beyond livid and also terrified.

*******************

Ethan prided himself on many things. One was that he was a man who rarely overreacted in relationships. Another was that he learned from his mistakes.

Given how much he went through with Chris Valentine, he learned to never waste a moment if he were to ever fall in love with someone else. It was why he'd been upfront and as transparent as he could be with Sophie.

Yet seeing her with this Vince had shaken him beyond what he believed he should have felt at this stage of their relationship. They'd only been together a few months and here he was, completely angry over the thought of someone stealing her away from him.

He'd already endured something similar in watching Chris fall in love with Tobias. He'd be damned if he was going to watch it happen with Sophie.

Ethan intended on cutting in on her dance with Vince. All his plans crashed around him the moment the man kissed her. He felt his world shift at the sight. He'd become immobile, unable to comprehend that this could possibly be the end of him and Sophie.

Then Sophie's almost violent reaction to Vince gave Ethan the flicker of hope he needed.

The moment Vince walked off, Sophie took a step back, intending to leave the dance floor and find a place to calm down.

She encountered a familiar hard surface.

She turned to find Ethan directly behind her.

With muscle spasming in his jaw, he grasped her hand and took her through a set of glass double doors that led outside.

The cool Boston air had a slight bite to it, helping them both deal quietly with their heated emotions.

Sophie's shivers caused Ethan to pull her within his arms.

She snuggled closer for both his warmth and to remind herself that he was hers.

"Ethan?" She said softly.

"Yes?"

"You and Harper were more than coworkers, weren't you?"

"We were." He closed his eyes, dropping his cheek against her head. "It was a long time ago."

"I see." Sophie mumbled.

"There's nothing there." He added. "No feelings at all other than respect and friendship."

"On your side, perhaps." Sophie grumbled.

Ethan tightened his arms around her. "That's all it will ever be between me and Harper."

His eyes narrowed when he caught another glimpse of Vince through the windows.

"You and Vince?"

"He's an ex of mine." Sophie explained. "We broke up years ago."

"And that kiss?" Ethan bit out.

Sophie raised her head to look up at him.

"Didn't mean anything to me." She responded.

Ethan slammed his mouth against hers. He was shocked with the need he had to prove that what she said was right. He also felt the need to make this kiss mean something to her.

Knowing he should ease up, he was unable to make his body do so. His lips and tongue were determined to draw moans from her and wouldn't stop until they did so.

Sophie wallowed in the passion of his response to seeing someone else want her. She threaded her fingers in his hair and gave back as good as she got. It both eased her heart and thrilled her that he reacted the same way she did when thinking about him with Harper.

"Ethan." She moaned as his mouth moved along her bare shoulder. "Let's get out of here."

His lips captured hers once more in a long, deep kiss.

"Please." She whispered, eyes meeting his in the soft light of a nearby sconce. "Take me home and make love to me."

He moaned her name with one more kiss. Ethan then kept his arm around her as they quickly made their exit.

[coopsgirl]

The Shadow and the Sunrise

Here is the final chapter. Thank you all for reading and I hope you will enjoy it! Read at AO3 here.

Summary: The elves complete their move across the river and away from the encroaching darkness while Thranduil and Ranyare prepare for their wedding and new life together (safe for work)

Work on their new homes continued into Autumn and before the first snow of Winter fell, all the elves of the Woodland Realm had moved across the river. Scout troops continued to monitor the progression of the darkness into their forest and by the time the move was completed, it had engulfed nearly the entirety of the Greenwood. As Thranduil had hoped, the malevolent force did not cross the water and while the size of his realm had greatly shrunk, he did not mind as his people were safe. Extensive work had been done on the caverns to make them into livable quarters and the king beamed with a great sense of pride as so many of his kind had lived in similar abodes throughout their long history.

“I know these halls are not as grand as Nargothrond or Menegroth, but they are still a beautiful wonder” Thranduil said as he and Ranyare toured their new home. “It is amazing how much this space has been transformed. My room is so lovely and instead of the stone feeling cold and lifeless, it actually seems warm and inviting” she explained as they walked along one of the corridors that led to a small waterfall. “I hope you will not get too attached to it. Come Spring, we will move into our shared chamber” he said as they were both living in what were meant to be guest rooms as work continued on their expansive suite. “I am counting the days till then dear one” she said wistfully as they paused and stood hand in hand watching the clear water that fell from a small shaft down into a pool and then out again down a stream flowing through one of the tunnels. Sunlight glittered on the water making it appear as if diamonds instead of water were falling down before them. Thranduil smiled at the magnificent sight and mused, “This is my favorite place in all these caverns. It makes me think of you, and the change you have brought about in my life. Knowing you, loving you, has been like the sun rising and wiping all the darkness and shadows away.” He raised her hand to his lips and tenderly kissed her knuckles. Her eyes teared up as she echoed his beautiful sentiment. “My life for such a long time has been lived in the shadows, hiding away and running from the pain of the past. You helped me face it and overcome it. I will never be able to thank you enough for that and for your love. I love you so deeply nin galad (my light).” They embraced and Thranduil replied, “And I love you, Nendil.” “Nendil?” She was a bit confused by this until he explained. “I thought it was time for you to have a new name for you are no long a wanderer. It means lover of the lake and that seemed fitting for you. You do not have to use it if you do not like it.” She looked up at him with a big, beaming smile and said, “I love it and so Nendil I shall be from now until the end of days.”

Invitations were soon sent to Imladris and Lothlórien regarding the upcoming royal nuptials. Nendil attached the invitation along with a letter she wrote to the carrier bird that would travel the long distance to the Grey Havens. She let it go and watched as the bird rose higher into the sky and further away until it could no longer be seen. “Do you think she will make it?” she asked Thranduil who stood beside her on the hill. “Let us hope she will. I know how much you would like to see him again.” “It is such a long way. I will understand if he is not able to come.” Nendil tried to put on a brave face but Thranduil knew how disappointed she would be if Círdan was unable to attend their wedding. “Come now, let us go on our picnic and enjoy this beautiful day” he said as he picked up their basket and took her hand. Though still in the grip of Winter’s icy fingers, a few sunny days had melted much of the snow and Thranduil meant to take full advantage of this.

“You spoil me too much nin galad” Nendil said as he spread out a blanket and then filled their glasses with wine. He also laid out the food including her favorite cheeses, crackers, and honey cakes. “I do not believe I have yet spoiled you enough nin anor mír (my sunshine).” He reached into the basket and pulled out a small black velvet drawstring bag and handed it to her. “Thranduil, another gift?!” she said with delight and surprise. Ever since she accepted his proposal, he had bestowed many gifts upon her including new dresses, perfumes, vanity items, and jewelry. “It is not much, but I thought you might like it.” She opened the bag and pulled out a roughly oval shaped stone. Her mouth opened in awe as she held it in her palm and admired its beautiful blue-green color. “I remembered your description of Cuiviénen and the color of the water. I found it near the edge of the pool under the waterfall and thought it might be a good match.” “It is perfect” she said unable to take her eyes away from the thoughtful gift. “I shall keep it with me always.” She put the stone in the specially made pocket of her gown where she also kept her knife. Thranduil chuckled and noted that the tailor may need to make her clothes with larger pockets in the future. “Only if a certain ellon continues to give me such wonderful and heartfelt gifts” she jokingly retorted.

--   

“Trust me, nin anor mír, you have no cause to be uneasy. Everyone who meets you cannot help but be taken with you.” Thranduil’s words did help to calm Nendil’s nerves about meeting their wedding guests who would soon arrive but a part of her still felt hesistant. “I may be about to marry a king but I do not quite feel like a queen. What if they do not think I belong with you, or with them? They are descendants of high kings and Maia and you are not only a king but a brave warrior of the highest skill. I am a simple Nelyar elf who is special do only to my advanced age.” Thranduil tenderly brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers and then moved his hand down to caress her shoulder. “Your age alone is not what makes you special. You have a gentle, calming presence and a quiet inner strength that shines out through your lovely eyes. Eyes that have seen both good and evil and that look out into the world with renewed hope instead of despair. No one would dare to question your worth or place as a queen.” “How do you always know the perfect words to say?” she said as she put her arms around his waist and pulled him close in a warm embrace. “Because I love you.”    

Nendil’s fears were completely unnecessary as their guests found her as enchanting as her soon-to-be husband did. Elrond, his wife Celebrían, their daughter Arwen, and Glorfindel made up the delegation from Imladris. Their sons were left behind in Lord Elrond’s place, to guard over their realm. Galadriel and her husband Celeborn, Celebrían’s parents, came from Lothlórien where they had recently become the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood after the disappearance of King Amroth who had gone in search of the elleth he loved. Their first dinner together was held out in the courtyard built for just such a gathering. The early Spring weather was cool and the scent of the first blossoms of the season sweetened the air.

Throughout dinner, Nendil noticed that Glorfindel took a few glances at her wrists. She no longer hid her scars and although they were quite faded, they were visible as her gown had elbow length sleeves. She was beginning to feel a bit self-conscious about them but once, when she caught him eyeing them, he gave her a smile and she felt as if he understood. After dinner, Nendil seeing they were low on wine, said she would go and fetch more bottles. Glorfindel offered to go with her. “I hope you are not intending to steal my fiancé away” Thranduil joked as the golden-haired elf was quite handsome and very charismatic. “I can clearly see she only has eyes for you, although I cannot imagine why” his old friend said with a laugh and twinkle in his grey eyes.

“Thranduil, you have found someone quite wonderful and I am very happy for you” Elrond said sincerely. “Thank you mellon nin. I hope we will have as happy and loving a marriage as you and Celebrían and as long and successful as you two” he said directing his last comments to Celeborn and Galadriel whose marriage had already spanned thousands of years. “When you have the right partner, they give you strength making it easier to navigate the ebbs and flows of life” Celeborn said looking lovingly at his wife. “We will all need strength going forward as I fear the stability and safety we have enjoyed for centuries is waning. I am loath to dampen our happy mood but as you are all aware, something evil has overcome our forest and it may not stay contained with the borders of the Greenwood.” “I was very sorry to hear about this change as I have always enjoyed our visits here. The mountains are, or rather were, so beautiful” Arwen explained as she and her brothers had traveled many times between the two neighboring elven realms of Lothlórien and Greenwood. “Future travel may have to be limited as our focus will need to be on the protection of each of our realms.” Galadriel’s words were true, and they cast a sad pall on the gathering of old and beloved friends. “Sadly, I agree. I would not feel comfortable leaving my realm for an extended period of time and I understand that each of you feel the same” Thranduil explained. “Then I am glad indeed that what may be our last gathering for some time is for such a joyous occasion” Celebrían said as she raised her glass in a toast.

“I beg your pardon for my staring earlier” Glorfindel said as he and Nendil walked together to the king’s personal wine cellar. “No apology is needed, but thank you.” “You and I have something unfortunate in common. We have both been in close proximity to the ultimate evil and have lived to tell the tale.” She looked up at him and saw real understanding in his eyes and expression. “It is a terrible burden, one that time had only slightly lessened, until I met Thranduil.” Glorfindel smiled and said, “I may tease my friend but he is a good ellon and will surely be a good husband. It is quite obvious how much he loves you.” “I was nervous to meet you all but you have been so kind and I am very happy that you are all here to celebrate with us.” “I am as well. I love a good party and feast” he said as she retrieved a couple of bottles and handed them to him. “I hope you do not mind me asking and if you do not wish to speak of it, please do not feel that you must, but I am very curious what it was like to defeat a balrog.” Her words were a bit timid as she realized that was a traumatic event that led to his death and he was only there now as he had been rebodied and sent back to Middle Earth. “I do not mind speaking of it,” he said reassuringly before he continued. “If I could not defeat Morgoth himself, I am glad to have killed that foul creature who was bent to his will. I would willingly give up my life again to stop anymore of his minions who remain.” “I do wish I could have done more. I did kill an orc after I saw Amon Lanc had been taken by them.” “We each do what we can. I believe the best way to defeat the dark is to not let it overcome your light.”

“I simply cannot wait until the wedding day. Naneth and I made this for you both.” Arwen said after Nendil had returned. She had retrieved the gift while waiting for the pair to return with the wine. Thranduil took the large box tied with a green silk ribbon and opened it. He pulled out what appeared to be a tapestry and when he unrolled it, he and Nendil were both in awe of it. Celebrían and Arwen had used their impressive needlework skills to recreate the sketch Thranduil had sent them of Lake Cuiviénen. “It is beautiful. Thank you both” Thranduil said as he continued to marvel at his sketch in this different medium. Diamonds made up the stars that sparkled above the trees and fine threads of Mithril woven through the blue-green water gave it a truly ethereal quality. “I do not believe I have ever seen such beautiful work. This shall hang in our chambers so we will be sure to see it every day. Thank you so much” Nendil said. Mother and daughter were happy that their gift had been so well received and the group spent the rest of the evening enjoying the wine and jovial conversation.

Thranduil walked Nendil to her room and as had become their custom, they kissed goodnight. Thranduil was in such a good mood however, he was not quite ready for the day to end just yet. She opened her door and he asked, “May I come in?” “I am sorry. Only my husband is allowed in my room” she said with a sly smile and teasing tone. “I shall be your husband in a few short days.” He caressed her cheek with his hand as he pulled her towards him and kissed her again. “But you are not my husband yet.” Nendil moved her head to the side to give him greater access as his kisses moved down her neck. “That is but a mere technicality” he said breathily between kisses. She smiled and took his hand as she pulled him into her room and closed the door. “Now what shall we do my soon-to-be but not quite yet husband?” He did not answer but instead gave her a smirk and picked her up and took a few steps toward her bed. “Oh! Thranduil, put me down!” she protested while laughing. He set her feet back on the ground but not until they were next to her bedside table. “I suppose I can wait a bit longer” he said taking her hands in his. He noticed a ball of nettle yarn sitting on the table by the oil lamp and he let go of one of her hands so he could pick it up. “Are you going to knit something?” he asked as he was curious why she had that as she now wore clothes made of fine silk and velvets. She took the yarn ball from him and looked at it, and then back to his eyes that glowed with so much love and admiration for her. “I keep it so I will not forget what my life used to be. It is not just our joys but also our pain that makes us who we are. They are both a part of life. I never want to take my new happiness for granted; I never want to take you for granted.” “Every day I wake up and thank Eru that you will be my wife. It is good to have friends and while they may bring much comfort, you have made me feel whole again after so much loss. Goodnight nin anor mír” Thranduil said sweetly as he kissed her forehead. “Goodnight nin galad” she said softly as they reluctantly parted.

It was now the day before their wedding and Nendil was sitting in the garden of Thranduil’s mother’s plants that flourished in the Spring sunshine as she and Galadriel, Celebrían, and Arwen worked on the flower and ribbon garlands that would decorate the courtyard. Thranduil and Celeborn joined them and after a bit of small talk the king said to his fiancé, “I have a surprise for you.” He then gestured for someone to join them and an ellon with long silver hair and a short white beard stepped out from behind the tall hedge that encircled the garden. “Nowë!” she said with a gasp as she used the name she had known him by so long ago. “Dear Nórime” he said walking towards her and she rushed to him as well and as they embraced, neither one could stop the tears from flowing at such a long-awaited reunion. He leaned down to whisper to her, “We never blamed you for what happened. You did the best you could.” She squeezed him even more tightly and the tears she shed then would be the last that old pain would ever cause her.

For a moment, it was as if they were back at the shores of the lake without a care in the world. The others were anxious to speak to him as it had been a long time since they had been in each other’s company. They were happy to let the pair have as long as they needed and once they finally parted, they walked hand in hand to join their friends. Galion brought them some tea and cakes and then work continued on the garlands as they spoke of many things. “I distinctly remember your hair being as black as a raven’s wing” Círdan said. “I do not recall you having a beard mellon nin.” “I suppose time changes all things, including ourselves” he chuckled in response. Galadriel looked at her husband and teasing him said, “I wonder how you shall look with a beard meleth nin?” They all laughed as Celeborn retorted, “I have many years to go before we may find out.” “Celeborn is going to speak for Thranduil and I want to ask if you would you speak for me tomorrow and give your blessing over our union?” Nendil asked her dear friend as it was custom for the couple’s parents or close friends to do so during weddings. “I would be honored. The only thing that would give me more joy would be to one day see the blessed shores of Aman” he said with a warm smile.  

--

The time for the ceremony had come and Thranduil waited for his bride in the sitting room. “I am ready” she said causing him to turn and stare at her with wonder. The sleeveless light pink gown accentuated her figure and looked beautiful with her silver hair and violet eyes. Darker pink flowers and greenery had been embroidered along the bodice, down past the waist, and along the hem.

“I have never seen anyone more beautiful” he said stepping towards her and taking her hands in his. “You look wonderfully handsome” she replied as his silver tunic with charcoal grey leggings and knee-high black boots made him quite a sight indeed. “You are missing something” he said with a grin as he reached for a box and opened it revealing a silver circlet that matched his own. Nendil bowed slightly and he placed the symbol of her queenship on her head.

When they walked out into the courtyard hand in hand, a great cheer erupted from the gathered elves. The couple smiled and waived as they made their way to a small dais at the front of the crowd where Celeborn and Círdan were already standing. Celeborn began the ceremony as the sun shone bright overhead. “We are gathered here today to celebrate a most joyous occasion, the joining of Thranduil and Nendil in marriage. I have known Thranduil his entire life and am proud to call him my friend. As a child, he would often play in the forest until the late hours and his parents would have to send soldiers out to find him.” The crowd chuckled and then he continued. “I remember a time when Oropher confided in me that he was concerned his son seemed to show no interest in leadership or learning about diplomacy and other skills necessary to be a good prince and maybe someday a king. Of course, Thranduil was only 16 years old.” This got an even bigger laugh. “Those worries were completely unfounded however as you all can attest to his strengths as your king. I am confident his parents would be proud of the leader he has become and of the wonderful elleth he has chosen to be his queen. May the blessings of the Valar and Eru himself make your marriage a strong and happy one” he said concluding his speech as everyone clapped. When the applause died down, Círdan began his blessing. “I cannot express to everyone here how much joy I feel at the happiness my dear friend has found. I can think of no one who deserves it more that she. She has at last found a home and will wander no longer. Thranduil, you are not simply getting a wife or even a queen, but a loyal force of nature who will selflessly fight for you and your people. Cherish each other and let your love be a source of strength for whatever may lie ahead. I second my friend Celeborn’s sentiment in wishing the Valar’s blessings on you both.”

The crowd cheered again as the bride and groom now prepared to share their vows and exchange rings. They were both a bit overcome with emotion but they gathered themselves and began. “Nendil, I Thranduil pledge to you my love, respect, protection, and fidelity all the days of my life.” Celeborn handed him the ring, a gold band with leaves carved into it, and he placed it on her finger. “Thranduil, I Nendil pledge to you my love, loyalty, devotion, and counsel all the days of my life.” Círdan handed her a matching ring and she slid it onto Thranduil’s finger. “To the king and queen!” Celeborn exclaimed as the coupled kissed and the elves boisterously cheered.

The celebration included a wonderful dinner, plenty of Thranduil’s favorite wine, and dancing. Nendil felt as if she was floating as she and Thranduil danced under the setting sun. He whispered something to her causing her to blush and smile from ear to ear. She nodded ‘yes’ and then they snuck away from the crowd and back to their shared chambers. “I hope our guests will not be upset that we left early” she said as Thranduil poured them one last celebratory glass of wine. “I would guess they are surprised we stayed as long as we did” he said matter of factly as he handed her the glass. She giggled as they toasted each other and then drank the sweet, fragrant wine. “I have never had anything like this” Nendil said as she savored the taste. “It is a very special wine that is only produced in small batches. I have saved it for only myself but now, everything I have, everything I am, is yours.” “Nin galad, I love you so very much” she said stepping towards him and wrapping her arms around his neck and he wrapped his around her waist. “Would you care to show me exactly how much you love me?” he whispered into her ear, his breath warm and soft against her skin. “It would be my pleasure aran nin.”

The End    

Notes: Naneth = Mother

[joy-of-life88]

Inked Temptation [a Damian Priest story] 17 Options

Ellie POV

I was typing away as I tried to finish my work for the day as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the internet connection kept screwing me up as I tried to get the latest photos and articles online.

It was frustrating, but I didn't let it dampen my good mood. I was so happy to finally get back to work. But to be honest, it was more because I was finally able to spend a lot of time with Damian again than with my work.

Besides, there was the planning for the wedding. Somehow I never expected how many tiny decisions had to be made. And that's not easy when there were so many wonderful options. I just had such a hard time deciding.

But these thoughts left me very quickly as I felt warm lips that nestled against my neck. I smiled and turned my head to the side to look into the beautiful eyes of my future husband.

Damian had been an absolute sweetheart. With everything. With my stay in the hospital, with setting up and redecorating the house, and even with planning the wedding. Well, with the small part we had already done.

"Hello, you gorgeous man." I breathed.

"Hello to you too, Ellie-Bell. How's it going? I thought I'd stop by before getting ready for the show." he replied after giving me a loving kiss and then sitting down next to me.

"I'm finally done for the day. It took a really long time. But that's nothing new. I look forward to seeing you in action later. Oh and I've been looking for options for the wedding in New York. I'm afraid the Empire State Building is not an option for us." I said as I took his hand in mine so I could play with his long fingers.

"Oh no... Why not?" he wanted to know.

"Well... it's only possible for selected couples to get married there. You have to have a really good story in store to be chosen. Also, they only have weddings there on Valentine's Day. I think there are only 3.

And as sorry as I am, a February wedding in New York doesn't sound very appealing. I would freeze to death in a beautiful dress. Then I looked at a few rooftop options with a view of the Empire State, but they don't allow decorations, flowers. Nothing at all. Not even chairs for the guests. And that would also mean we would need another location for the reception," I explained to him.

"Too bad... Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to celebrate in New York. I'm sure we'll find another alternative," Damian said.

He sounded so disappointed. I knew he wanted to celebrate our wedding in his city. Fortunately, I already had an alternative.

"I think I found something that might be even nicer...what do you think of the Loeb Boathouse in Central Park? It has a great view of the lake and in the spring when the trees are green and everything is blooming it sure will be beautiful. They have a big room that adjoins the restaurant, a big deck, and you can even rent gondolas," I replied, barely able to contain my excitement.

"Someone is very passionate about this, huh? I think I could be convinced to like it." said Damian, his voice low as he brought his face close to mine and rubbed my nose with his.

"I think you already love the idea and just want to take advantage of my weakness for you, love." I replied softly as I began to slowly stroke his thigh with my hand.

"Hmm.... no... I think I definitely need convincing." He murmured, his face still close to mine.

"Oh? I think I can be very persuasive. Too bad you have to get to work now. Otherwise, it would be very easy... to give in to... temptation here and now. But don't worry... There'll be plenty of time for that later," I whispered against his lips.