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in your peach blush dreams
synopsis : in which sukuna unexpectedly stumbles upon something – or rather, someone – he almost never believed could exist. w.c: 2.7k.
pairing : soulmate!florist!sukuna x f!reader
warnings : FLUFF! non curse au. adorably grumpy sukuna who only pretends he doesn’t believe in love or soulmates.
a/n : based on this request. hope you enjoy nonie!! @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @gothsuguru @bungalowbear @hiraethwrote , i hope you love your cameos <3
divider / ao3
ryomen sukuna was a skeptic.
point. cut. blank.
anybody who knew him knew it well.
he didn’t believe in ghosts, poltergeists, or any of the things that cry and go bump in the night. there was always a logical explanation for everything and anything that happened outside the realm of normalcy. the world was ruled by physics and chemistry and numbers, and even though he was a florist, sukuna understood and wholeheartedly accepted the beauty of science.
however, there was one teeny, tiny thing that completely – and rather rudely – disregarded all of his beliefs.
and it was only a little dream.
one that he had been having since he was old enough to remember things.
sukuna couldn’t remember if there were before this particular one started, or even if any occurred after it. but he always remembered how he knew it was coming – the way his stomach would churn and lurch, like he was being catapulted from a cannon, free-falling through a black expanse of space and time and stars.
and then, sukuna would land face-first into a field of marshmallow-soft petals, bathed in the light of a pink sunrise.
at first, he didn’t know what sort of flowers had cushioned his fall. it took him quite a number years to even attempt sketching them, using a cheap set of coloring pencils he’d bought with his pocket money. and even, not a single person he showed his scratchings to had any clue at all.
it frustrated him to no end.
sukuna would always end up crumpling his drawings in his little fists and hurling them straight into the bin.
and try again.
and again.
it wasn’t until he was sixteen that he finally found the answer he had been looking for.
sukuna had just gotten a job working part-time at a flower shop after school. at first, the thought of being there was beyond humiliating. his twin brother had relentlessly teased him about it when he found out, which quickly resulted in a flurry of knuckles and fists.
he arrived to his first shift with a sour look and a black eye.
io, the shop owner at the time, gave him a humorous look with soft, chocolate eyes and taught him how to speak the language that only flowers knew. how to listen to the soft poetry held within the curl of their leaves and petals, telling you everything they needed to bloom.
in time, sukuna learned to enjoy it.
but he would never admit it to anyone.
one day, the shop received a rather large delivery of frighteningly familiar baby pink flowers. sukuna froze, his hands slippery and wet from the water droplets falling from the stems.
“what are those?” he’d gritted out, disbelief coated on his cracked lips.
io took one glance at the flowers in his grip, and answered, “oh, they’re zinnia flowers.”
zinnia flowers.
he whispered under his breath, testing how the letters rolled over and under his tongue.
after all this time, the answer to the mystery flower was finally in his palm, and sukuna couldn’t decide whether or not he felt relieved or disturbed about it.
all he could muster in response was, “right.”
io stared at him, and a young sukuna felt himself shrink a little under her gaze, his cheeks blossoming a brilliant red shade like the david austin roses beside him. he pretended to ignore her, distracting himself by placing bunches of flowers into water buckets and slowly, meticulously, arranging every single stem beautifully in the display window.
sukuna hated every second of it.
he felt like every single pink petal on those flowers were mocking him, laughing at him for being so wound up over them.
it was so unbelievably pathetic.
he’d never felt more like a loser in his whole life.
because despite all his beliefs about the supernatural and a higher power, he couldn’t hate those flowers even if he tried to, not really.
because they were hers.
the other person already sitting there in his dreams in an endless field of zinnia blooms.
she wouldn’t notice him straight away, even though sukuna crash-landed in a heap just beside her leg. she was too busy staring up at the clouds painted in strokes and swirls of blushing pink, with the sun bleeding in tones of vibrant peach. all he could notice was how her lips were parted in wonder as she took everything in around her with a wondrous energy.
it was only when he pushed himself up to sit beside her that she finally noticed him.
and laughed.
and it was the most beautiful thing sukuna had ever heard in his life.
it was joyously infectious, and he couldn’t help his own laughter from bubbling up from deep within his chest like a volcano. they laughed together for what seemed like hours, the limits of time stretching on forever in the land of dreams, and sukuna felt the angry fire in his soul simmer just a little.
and he would become sad.
because he knew this was when the dream would always end.
he’d open his bloodstained eyes to the dreadfully familiar, dull white ceiling that belonged to his bedroom, and sukuna would know he was back at square one all over again.
feeling alone.
so unbearably alone.
because the dream would still linger in those precious few minutes after he woke up, a ghost hovering over a gray sea. sukuna could feel the other half of his soul slipping away to wherever she belonged to in this vast world, and he would selfishly claw for her, begging and screaming in his mind.
don’t go! don’t go! don’t go!
sukuna wasn’t stupid; he knew she couldn’t stay, but that didn’t stop a bitter taste from spreading over his tongue like a drop of lemon juice.
it twisted him inside, and he hated the universe for making him yearn so deeply for someone he had never even met.
and might never.
it didn’t take long for io to catch on. she was always acutely aware of people, and to be known by her was to always be seen and understood.
“they scare you, don’t they?” io murmured to him gently, too gently for sukuna’s liking. “the zinnias.”
he snorted dismissively, cutting perfect forty-five degree angles into the stems of snow peonies. “i am not afraid of a fucking flower, io.”
she arched a brow, unimpressed. “no?”
“no.”
“are you sure?”
sukuna huffed and rolled his eyes, adding tufts of baby’s breath to the bouquet he was assembling. io leaned over the birch countertop, her wrists adorned with various pink ribbons and a playful twinkle in her eyes.
“i know what it is,” she said in a sing-song voice, drumming her nails against the wood.
he ignored her again, a blooming pink starting to grace the tips of his ears, and busied himself wrapping a brown piece of paper around his finished piece.
“what?”
she didn’t answer, cryptically singing about knowing things and of a man she would know one day come to know, with hair as white as the peonies in sukuna’s bouquet and eyes brighter than bluebells. it was only five years to the day, when io married that very man she had been singing about, that he realized she had known all along what had been on his mind.
and now, at the tender age of twenty-one, ryomen sukuna wondered when it would be his turn to love.
and be loved in return.
❀᭢᜴꤬
when she was a child, she used to love drawing.
and the thing she loved to draw most was him.
the boy she saw in her dreams. they weren’t very good drawings – just two stick figures holding each other’s circles for hands, one with bright fuchsia hair because that was the closest color she had in her pencil kit. they would be standing in a field of flowers too, though the blooms were just colorful blobs scattered around their stick feet.
“not it!” she’d exclaim, pouting pitifully. “not what he looks like!”
her two best friends, kairo and ari, shuffled through their pencil cases, offering her shade after shade of pink pencils, but she shook her head at them each time. after a while, she would start to wail, despair clutching her little heart in its claws. her friends would put their arms around her, offering her all the trinkets and sweets they had in their pockets, just to see her smile again.
but they couldn’t understand how she really felt, how lonely she was sometimes, because they had already completed their souls.
ari had their kenjaku – their kenny.
and kairo had her suguru.
they had found their souls at such a young age and would never know just how much of the rest of the world felt for most, if not all, of their lives. they always had someone to watch over them. even now, the two twin boys were staring at them, gauging whether they would also burst into tears alongside her, ready to step in and make them smile again.
that was all she wanted, really.
for the pink-haired boy in her dreams to make her smile when she needed it.
as she grew that little bit older, her dream became more vivid. she could remember more details – how the sky was aflame in peach and coral, the sweet smell of the flowers beneath her, and how her boy would land next to her. she could even feel how much it was him that needed to smile.
so she laughed.
and laughed and laughed until he did too.
she wished she could stay there in that dream with him and make him laugh forever.
but she couldn’t do that.
in his sadness, there was strength too – something unyielding, strong enough to bring mountains to their knees. it told her to stay strong, to be like him, to keep her chin up and tell the world that she would live.
so she did.
she went on with her life, making sure to laugh often and well.
she grew up witnessing and being surrounded by love. high school and university presented their own challenges, filled with late-night cramming sessions and caffeine-induced hazes. she watched more and more of the friends find their souls, pairing off in effortless harmony while she lingered on in the stardust of their love.
but she still continued to live.
still kept an eye out for a particular head of pink hair wherever she went.
and now that she was done school, entering the big, bad world of work, her heart longed all the more for the boy from her dreams – who no longer looked like a boy at all.
he was a beautiful man now.
with dark tattoos etched into skin, mysterious lines and circles that perhaps told the story of his life. she wanted to know all about them, if they even meant anything to him at all, and if they were a angry shield to protect himself from people getting too close.
she hoped it wasn’t.
she didn’t want to be one of those left locked out.
“you’ll find him,” jess said encouragingly to her one day, as she was lost in a daydream of pink flower fields.
jess always knew when she was there.
she hummed softly, chewing on the plain cheese sandwhich she’d brought for her lunch break.
“so,” jess began, in an effort to distract her. “any nice plans for your time off?”
“uh, yeah actually. my best friend is getting married, so i’ll be helping her out this week to get everything ready.”
“oh, that sounds really nice!”
then, nanami kento walked into the staff room, his tired eyes brightening at the sight of jess sitting there, happily munching on the lunch he had no doubt prepared for her that morning. her friend sighed wistfully, a fond smile on her face as the blonde man took a seat beside her.
suddenly, there were two and a half souls in the room.
and she couldn’t help but smile, hoping that her time was coming.
it had to be.
❀᭢᜴꤬
“hea, do we have any lilies in the back? i need them.”
sukuna took another quick glance at the behemoth of a man in front of him, who shifted from one foot to the other, his green eyes darting all around the shop.
“urgently.”
“just a sec!”
the shop was silent for a moment, with only the sound of the fan blowing and the soft snip, snip, snip of sukuna trimming zinnia stems. he looked up again at customer, raising an eyebrow at how nervous the poor man looked while waiting.
“we have these white roses here,” sukuna suggested, pointing with his scissors at a small bunch. “in case we don’t have any white lilies.”
the man shook his head. “no, no. they have to be lilies. her name is lily.”
sukuna might have once laughed, but it was the way the man said her name with a hushed sort of reverence – and the tip of a velvet box peeping out from his trousers – that he understood who she really was to him.
so sukuna didn’t laugh.
“it’s really important,” he added, dark locks sticking to his forehead, as if that alone would convince the grumpy florist.
sukuna sighed, setting down his scissors and wiping his hands on his shirt. “i’ll see what i can do for you.”
so he went to the back himself, assembling a bouquet of white lilies, adding white pampas grass for flair and eucalyptus for softness. sukuna spent quite a bit of time on it – more than he probably should have – fluffing and adjusting every petal and leaf until it was absolutely perfect.
it was worth the effort.
the man’s palpable relief was infectious, making the corner of sukuna’s lips twitch upwards.
“keep your money,” he grunted, his nose slightly turned up. “just come back here to get what you need for the wedding.”
the bell at the front door tinkled in farewell as the man left, and sukuna picked up where he left off. there was a bridal party order for tomorrow, and of course, he was in charge of creating the bride’s bouquet.
sukuna always was.
“hea!” he called out. “if you need a hand with the bridesmaids’ bouquets let me know. i’m almost done here.”
the doorbell tinkled.
but he wasn’t looking up.
“i’m good!” hea answered back, her voice faint.
sukuna clicked his tongue disapprovingly, not liking the shade of ribbon he was holding against the peach-colored zinnia in the bouquet. he dipped down behind the counter, arms stretched above him and fingers drumming on the wood as he scanned through the mess of ribbons and other decorations tucked away in small cubicles.
hmph! nothing.
sukuna pushed himself back up.
and there she was.
staring at all the shades of pretty pink zinnias that sukuna had painstakingly displayed the day before.
his heart actually stuttered.
and before he knew it, he had somehow slipped and landed face down on the ground.
“fuck!”
“oh!”
sukuna pushed himself back up, stumbling like a newborn foal, his eyes completely and utterly fixed on her while a poor zinnia lay crushed beneath his foot.
but that didn’t matter in the slightest.
because holy good god, she was looking at him too.
with her pretty lips parted in shock, and her pretty eyes wide and glossy, and her pretty hair looking exactly like it did in his – no, their – dream.
she’s here. she’s here. she’s here.
“i’m here for the bridal flowers for kairo!” she blurted out suddenly.
sukuna inhaled sharply.
what a pretty voice.
“t-that’s– ahem – not due until tomorrow,” he whispered, almost inaudibly.
her eyes widened a fraction more, if that was even possible. then, her features completely relaxed as she tipped her head back and laughed.
and laughed.
sukuna felt like he was back in his dream again.
only it was real this time – more real than anything.
he chuckled lowly, his laughter rising like helium, melding with hers in a gloriously wonderful crescendo.
and all sukuna could think of was.
finally.
i love you, i love you, i love you.
❀᭢᜴꤬
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#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen x you#sukuna fic#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk oneshot#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk au#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen au#✍🏼 lily’s requests
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e. williams — moonflower.
pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.
warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.
an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗
enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.
the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.
⋆˙⟡♡
you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.
“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.
“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”
louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.
“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”
“how come?”
“it simply shows, pumpkin’”
louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.
ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.
it reminded you of her.
⋆˙⟡♡
ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.
“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”
“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”
you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”
ellie’s breath caged in her throat.
it already does.
“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.
if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.
if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.
⋆˙⟡♡
sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”
you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.
“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.
⋆˙⟡♡
the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.
balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.
“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”
you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.
joel.
you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.
you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.
“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.
“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”
joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.
“she’s still into it, huh?”
“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.
“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.
“found it last week while i was patrollin’”
“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.
“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.
“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”
joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”
you nearly choked up.
“joel… you should come with me”
joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.
“maybe next birthday, kid”
joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.
⋆˙⟡♡
12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…
well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.
again.
usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”
“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.
when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.
would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.
instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.
it was her morning voice.
funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.
“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”
“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.
“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.
“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”
the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.
the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.
you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”
ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.
“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.
“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”
she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.
“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.
“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.
ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”
ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.
“can’t taste my own cake?”
“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.
“yes ma’am”
⋆˙⟡♡
you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.
impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.
you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”
“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.
“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”
before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!
she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.
for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.
“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”
ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”
ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?
maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.
laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;
“hey” she whispers.
“hi” you whisper back.
ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”
impatient.
you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”
she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”
ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.
“apollo one”
she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.
“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.
⋆˙⟡♡
apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”
ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”
interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.
“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.
“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”
that she hasn’t. yet.
ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.
“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”
sweet? intoxicating?
“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”
nah, she thinks she might be something worse.
slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.
“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.
“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.
“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”
“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.
slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.
“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”
“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?
she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?
her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.
thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.
“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…
“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.
“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.
you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.
you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”
“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.
“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“
oh.
ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.
“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.
“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.
“i have wasps”
“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.
“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.
her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.
doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”
“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.
this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.
⋆˙⟡♡
so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.
with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.
what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?
“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.
shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.
besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.
“so… you wanna open them up or not?”
she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)
“fuck yeah”
you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.
the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.
what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—
“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!
“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”
ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…
“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.
“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”
she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.
“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.
“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”
you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…
“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.
“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”
you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.
“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.
“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”
ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.
one whole minute passes.
“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.
you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.
“i’m in love with you”
you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?
“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.
she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…
you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.
like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.
when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.
“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.
still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.
you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.
swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”
she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.
“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.
with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.
with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”
you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”
“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”
you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.
she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“
“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.
“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?
“explode!”
“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.
you’re fuzzy everywhere.
“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”
you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.
as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.
you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”
“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”
“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—
“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”
when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.
she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams x fem!reader
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Yuri Manga for New (AND Not-So-New) Readers
I was talking on discord about some good yuri for beginners, and figured I'd repost here.
I get way more detailed some of these recommendations in this post, and there's great recs from another person too! Check it out!
I'm doing this accounting to various tones and tastes, so what works as a beginner yuri for one person might not for another, just read the info to figure out what your jam is.
I'll put a star by the ones about adults (which is the majority of them) since I've found that's always something people want.
Goodbye my Rose Garden (Victorian yuri w/ beautiful art, just beautiful all around)*
How Do We Relationship? (messy adult relationships and lots of actually realistic intimacy)*
She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat- (A woman loves to cook but doesn’t have a huge appetite, only to find the woman next door to her does! She cooks for her and they really start to bond over food and the trials of being working adults. Yes, this is the one where the woman googles lesbian. It's really good)*
Bloom into You- a common go-to yuri for beginners for a reason, about a girl who believes she can't fall in love meeting a girl who wants to date her specifically BECAUSE she can't fall in love. Find out more about it and hear my thoughts here. It has a gorgeous anime that doesn't cover the complete story.
Doughnuts Under the Crescent Moon (sweet office lady romance, ace rep) *
Catch These Hands! (These two women were delinquents and rivals in high school, they meet up again, one reveals she was always into the other, she challenges her to a fight on the condition that if the other woman loses she'll date her. Lots of slapsticky fun and great for any lover of girl delinquents)*
Run away with me, Girl (there's some abuse shown in this one, but it's a story about healing, the premise is these girls dated in high school, but one of the pressured herself "normal" and marry a man, that man turns out to be abusive, so when the former lovers reunite, they decide to run away together. It's got beautiful art and a well done story)*
The Moon on a Rainy Night (absolutely spectacular, explores the relationship between a hard of hearing girl and her closeted classmate, the characters are complex and the writing is so good!)
Kase-san And...- Starting with Kase-san and the Morning Glories, this is a very fluffy and sweet high school romance. It also has a short movie. (as the manga goes on they become college students, too)
The Two of Them Are Pretty Much Like This (slice of life about a voice actress and anime screenwriter who live together as a couple. Unfortunately the ending is a bit abrupt (and likely premature) but I love their relationship)*
My fave Otherside Picnic is great for scifi and (mild) horror lovers. It's Scifi creepypasta adventure yuri. It's a slow burn but does truly spectacularly deliver on the gay. Has an anime, it's not great, you should start with the novels. Wrote an article here. https://www.animefeminist.com/how-otherside-picnic-masterfully-uses-horror-to-explore-abuse-and-show-healing-queer-love/ *(v young adults, college students)
The Guy She was Interested in Wasn't a Guy at All: (A web manga about a girl who works at a record shop. Her classmate , Aya, wanders in but doesn't recognize her because she has her hair hidden with a hat and is wearing a face mask, and Aya assumes she's a guy. They bond over music and slowly start to get closer...and Aya's finds her heart is fluttering not only over this mysterious boy, but her female classmate that seems a lot like him...) It's going to get a physical release soon.
I Married my Best Friend to Shut My Parents Up (girl and her friend get married simply so her parents will stop bugging her about being single. You can probably guess where it goes from there) *
I Married my Female Friend (similar premise, except no parents involved, it's a platonic marriage they both agreed to with the promise they'll divorce if one of them falls in love. But one woman has decidedly not platonic feeling for the other that she's hiding from her, so It will likely turn romantic, it hasn't all come out here yet so I haven't finished it)*
Monthly in the Garden with my Landlord* (it didn't really hit with me but I might give it a shot again, it's solid despite the terrible title, a woman moves into a house and finds she'll be cohabitating with an idol) (Some more titles I haven't fully read that could appeal: After Hours*, Still Sick*, Cheerful Amnesia*)
My Cute Little Kitten (two roommates adopt a cat...and maybe fall in love?)*
I think all of those work as solid intro- though it does depend on what flavor you're looking for!
This article also covers some of these recs and some manga I didn't mention due to not having completely read it. so check it out: The Beginners Guide to Yuri Manga.
Here's some titles to try when you're a little more familiar with yuri (or you can try them now! I'm not your boss!)
SHWD (action yuri that's taking forever to come out over here physically, featuring extremely muscular women fighting monsters. I think it was forced to end prematurely too)*
Kiss and White Lily for my Dearest Girl: (I'm only three volumes in, but it's really enjoyable. The main storyline is about two academic rivals, where one is determined to rank first in class, and the other is an effortless genius who becomes intrigued at the possibility of someone beating her. Honestly they have the kind of messy combative sexual tension I wish we'd see more often in yuri because it's so good. The story follows other couples too. However, big warning for some nonconsensual kisses in the first volume at least).
Sweet Blue Flowers/Aoi Hana- (This one is a little bit dated, and boy is the ending weirdly paced, but a lot still holds up imo. A painful and sweet coming of age tale, it also has an anime that's good but ends too soon.
One teenage characters backstory involves incestuous (older cousin) the perpetrator of which pulls the "oh no did I turn you gay? thing" but it's definitely framed as a bad thing. )
Yuri is My Job- a story about messy lesbians in a yuri-themed cafe, and how their real relationships differ from the personas they put on. Read more about it here. Big warning for sexual assault of a minor (by an adult villain) in volume 12. Has an anime covering early material.
#yuri#yuri recs#pride month#pride 2024#pride#manga#bloom into you#goodbye my rose garden#doughnuts under a crescent moon#yuri is my job#shwd#how do we relationship#run away with me girl#the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all#kiss and white lily for my dearest girl#aoi hana#kase san#the two of them are pretty much like this#I married my female friend#she loves to cook and she loves to eat#my recs
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Rosehall
~Azriel X Reader
Summary: Azriel gives you the best mating gift in the world by introducing you to the other important woman in his life.
Warnings: none just fluff :)
Azriel had always kept secrets. You had always written it off as it being a part of his work - being the spymaster of the Night Court no doubt wracked up hundreds of them.
His entire job revolved around gathering information from the unsuspecting mouths of threatening individuals. You were sure Azriel probably knew enough secrets to tear down entire courts if he chose to spill them.
But he wouldn't.
Because something you had come to learn was that Azriel was incredibly good at keeping them. So good, in fact, that he had managed to keep one from you for the five years you had been together.
There was no doubt in your mind that Azriel was keeping something from you. In fact you didn't need to be a spymaster to notice the mysterious way he would disappear from your home some evenings with a kiss to your head and a promise that he would return.
Sometimes he would provide you with a reason, a lame excuse that you saw right through, but you would still nod and smile all the same. Peck his cheek before sending him out the door, telling him not to be too long.
If you weren't as secure in your relationship as you were, you're positive that this would have been a bigger problem for you. That you would anxiously pace the floor of your home until he returned, smelling the male as he entered just to try and see if you got a whiff of an unfamiliar perfume.
But Azriel was your mate, and that golden thread tired between you, one of the bond that had just recently been accepted, meant you had to trust the male with your entire soul. And you did.
You'd busy yourself in his absence each time he left, knowing that when the time came and he was ready, your mate would tell you where he had spent all these secretive hours.
As it turned out, you didn't have much longer to wait.
~~~~~
Azriel had told you to get ready nice and early this morning. A nervous smile across his lips as he told you he was ready to show you exactly where it was he wandered off to every other day.
A mating gift, he called it. The desire to share with you the secret he held so near and dear to his hear.
You weren't sure what to expect or how to prepare for it. But your mate kissed you on the head and told you all would be fine, that you needn't stress and he would take care of everything.
So there he was, a fragrant bouquet in his hand that wasn't for you, waiting at the bottom of the steps in your shared home. Impatiently tapping his foot as you took the time to finish getting ready.
You approached him slowly, scared that if you were to startle him by showing too much enthusiasm at the prospect of learning his hidden secret he would panic. Retreating back into the shadows as he remained secretive and untelling.
"Shall we?" He asked nervously, gulping back some of his anxiety as he did so.
The male held out his free arm for you to take, allowing you to gently grasp onto him before he willed you both to be absorbed by his shadows.
~~~~~
The dark veil of shadows lifted to reveal a picturesque view. It was a combination of thriving farmland and lush forests, a number of rolling hills kissing against the horizon in the distance. It was beautiful.
And in the center of it all, the focal point of this idyllic rural painting, there stood a quaint little cottage. The thatched roof glistening under the light of the rising sun, roses of all colours blooming in the perfect little garden which was housed by a protective wooden fence.
Azriel noticed your silent appreciation, resting his hand on the small of your back as he began to lead you in the direction of the cottage, beginning to speak as he walked, "Welcome to Rosehall. And before you get too, excited the cottage isn't the gift."
"It's beautiful!" you said in amazement, it wasn't often that you had the chance to leave Velaris and the city - as wonderful as it was - didn't bare the tranquil, natural beauty that the landscape before you did.
You didn't need the bond to tell you that your mate was anxious, the tense grip of his hand against your back told you enough. Attempting to lighten the mood you joked, "I hope this isn't where you tell me you have a wife and kids."
He released a worried laugh, cracking a wonky smile which didn't quite meet his faraway eyes, "Not a wife but... well. You'll see."
The closer and closer you got towards the cottage, the more you were able to take in. The warm light which cast a homely glow through the sparkling windows and the curling plume of grey smoke which rose from the chimney told you that the house was well-lived in.
And there was a figure tending to the garden.
A soft, feminine form who was busying themselves with planting some newly sprouting roots into the array of pots before her. Her tangled hair, which was thrown haphazardly into a bun atop of her head, was the same dark colour of your mates.
"Azriel" you whispered in shock, shaky hand flying to your mouth at the realization of who it was you were approaching. Of who it was Azriel snuck off to see so often.
~~~~~
Azriel removed his steadying hand from the small of your back, moving towards the gate before lifting the latch and entering the garden, holding it open so you could follow him inside.
The soft click of the latch being enough to alert the woman, distracting her from her task as she raised her amber eyes to you and your mate. A loving smile crossing her face as she saw who her visitor was.
She launched to her feet, bounding over to the two of you before throwing her arms around Azriel - around her son - crushing the bouquet of flowers between their bodies which were tightly pressed together in their embrace.
"Darling! I didn't expect to see you here again so soon!"
Azriel cleared his throat at her words, pulling away from the hug as he began to shuffle his feet as he looked between you and his mother, finding the words to shyly speak, "Well, I thought it was about time I introduced you to my mate. Mum this is-"
His mother didn't allow him the time to finish his sentence. Instead opting to rush towards you, pulling you into an equally tight embrace as if she had done this a million times.
"It's so lovely to finally meet you, Azriel as told me everything about you of course" she chirped. Her hands, slightly rough from her years of labor in the garden, came to rest against your blushing cheeks, "But he never told me how beautiful you are! Cauldron darling you look as though you were blessed by the mother herself."
"Mum" Azriel groaned from where he was stood, embarrassed at the way his mum was doting on you. Yet he couldn't help the small smile which trickled onto his face at the sight before him, nor the way his eyes lovingly twinkled as he watched the two people he loved most finally meeting.
"That's funny" you said, shooting a burning glare towards your mate, "he told me absolutely nothing about you."
His mum tutted, her tongue coming to click against her teeth in disappointment, chiding her son for the lack of information shared between you.
"That boy i tell you," she started, pulling you excitedly by your hand towards the door of the cottage, Azriel following in tow, "So protective. He thinks I don't get lonely living by myself in the country? No, of course I do! I could have done with your company the last few hundred years darling."
You loved his mum.
It was an easy decision to make. The way she teased her son. The way she managed to get under his skin until the tops of his ears burned red in embarrassment. The overwhelming cornucopia of love which poured from her gaze every time she looked at her son.
It was easy to see why Azriel was so cautious in telling people about his mother. You had only known this woman for a minute and you were already sure you would be absolutely devastated if any harm were to ever befall her.
Her soothing, gracious persona was infectious. Her joy sparking a ray of light inside your chest which grew more and more every second you basked in her welcoming presence.
It was understandable now, why Azriel always seemed to come back from his mysterious trips away feeling lighter and more cheerful.
It was impossible not to be whilst you were here at Rosehall, here with his mother, and not feel the contagious merriment which hung in the air as if it was the very oxygen you breathed.
She eagerly dragged you inside Rosehall, pulling you into the homely kitchen, before pouring you a drink and hurriedly sitting down at the table with you, your hands clasped tightly in her comforting ones.
Silvery tears lined her golden eyes as she took you in. Her gaze didn't hold any judgement, instead it was filled with that same overwhelming surge of love which she looked at her son with, as if she was looking at her own daughter. Hands locked together with her own flesh and blood.
"I never thought I'd see the day where my little boy brought a woman home" she squealed, lip wobbling slightly as she tried to contain her overflowing sense of delight at the fact she was finally meeting you.
Azriel grumbled defensively from where he was stood at the counter of the kitchen, arranging his mother's flowers into a vase he had acquired.
"Oh and here I was thinking he used to be a ladies man. Have a lot of trouble with women as a boy Azriel?"
His mother beamed at your banter, staring between you and her son as if the pair of you were her entire universe.
"I was just waiting for the right person to come along. Luckily for me it was my mate" he uttered as he shrugged, coming to stand behind you. Resting his large hands on your shoulders, unable to sit down as the small kitchen only housed two chairs. A sign of the lack of visitors Azriel allowed his mother to have.
"Oh what a sweet boy" his mother snapped, a playful humour lacing her tone, "waiting until he accepted the bond before he came and brought his mate to meet his own mother. Did I miss the wedding too?"
You giggled at her words as Azriel began to sputter excuses to the woman who raised him, the headstrong lady clearly wasn't going to drop the topic of his prolonged wait to introduce you anytime soon.
"Please darling," she turned back to you, her furrowed brows relaxing as she spoke, "tell me I raised my son right and he at least got you a proper mating gift. Something romantic."
You looked up to your mate, his expectant eyes meeting your own elated ones. It was your turn for your lip to quiver due to the abundance of love which radiated in this home, squeezing his mother's gentle hands as you spoke, "He's given me the best mating gift I could have asked for."
And he had. This gift had been more than just Azriel introducing you to his mother, you could see that.
No, it had been Azriel giving you a part of his soul. Sharing with you his deepest secret, one that you would cherish forever as long as it was yours to hold.
There, in the cramped cluttered kitchen of Rosehall, Azriel's world just became a whole lot bigger. And as he looked to his girls, his two beautiful girls, Azriel allowed himself to relax. A tender smile settling on his face at the realization that he had found his home. His entire heart and soul belonging to the two women before him.
He was going to have to buy another chair.
#acotar#fanfic#acotar imagine#azriel x reader#azriel imagine#azriel#sarah j maas#a court of thorns and roses#azriel oneshot#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar
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yandere vampire whos a total sweetie most of the time, but loses his mind whenever youre bleeding?
This is so interesting and fun! Make it Victorian and it's extra yummy.
Vampire in the Garden
[Yandere M. x Gn reader] tw. noncon, blood, MDNI Nfsw under the cut 1.6k words
You're annoyed and yet flattered to have such a suitor. He's the mysterious marquis who hardly attends social gatherings, and yet he appeared in your garden near nightly. How scandalous!
But he managed to endear himself to you despite the odd visiting hours, and you found yourself waiting up later and later into the evening to greet him. His ashen skin shone even when the moon was new, and he had such a charming smile upon his visage that you found it hard to refuse him.
The marquis sent you gifts often. Flowers from his personal greenhouse, suits and gowns tailored to your form, books that you expressed interest in reading in passing from your nightly chats, and small trinkets and gems would arrive the morning after you awoke. It was truly flattering, and you felt your heart flutter softly each time you graze fingertips now.
You asked him to attend a ball with you, and he did. It caused quite the stir when the wealthy, reclusive man steps into the grand hall only moments after the sun set. He smiled, and you returned the gesture. You could hardly pay attention to the murmurs of the crowd when he had so quickly whisked you away onto the dance floor. He was so beautiful under candlelight that you were left breathless. It was almost unfair how his dark eyes could sparkle with such golden intensity when they looked at you.
He pulled you aside to a moonlit balcony after the music died down, and he slipped a ring on your finger.
"I would be delighted if you would so deign to have me as your husband, my dear," He murmured as if he was a man begging for food, for the right to have something needed to live. He clutched you to his chest in a manner so intimate that you wondered how either of you had ever managed to stay so far apart before. It was quite improper of you at the time, yet you answered not with words to his query but instead a passionate meeting of the lips.
You were married shortly after.
It had been a grand yet private affair, and your things were boxed and packaged, loaded into a carriage, and you were taken deep into the countryside where your new spouse's estate resided. You weren't used to being so isolated from people, and it was odd getting used to living outside of city life, but you weren't one to complain.
Living with Victor, your husband, was smooth and sweet. You found that he tended to sleep during the day and dine, work, and pamper you with affection once the sky streaked orange and dark navy blues. He was truly ecstatic to have you, and you found that you were settling nicely into this odd, nocturnal routine.
You tried not to think about the small, odd things that you found cropping up, though. Servants whispered in the halls about shadows that seemed to linger longer than they should. Gossip surely. Victor also sipped from crystalline wine glasses at almost every supper, and you got the faintest whiff of iron from them.
"Darling, I'm curious. You seem to enjoy your drink quite much," You mentioned one evening, and he seemed to freeze and then bashfully hang his head.
"My dear, I am afraid to say that this is far too harsh and offending for your delicate lips," He teased, and you dropped your curious queries in favor of giggling like a young maiden.
Nothing was out of place until one night, when the stars shone brightly upon your rather scantily clad self. You relaxed within the gardens, enjoying the crisp night air. The roses were in full bloom, a brilliant white shade covered the flower beds. It resembled a snowy field, peaceful and fragrant. You hummed a soft tune as you reached down to pick one of the full, unfurled blooms.
"Ow!" You cried out and hissed softly. "Oh... you fiendish little thing," You sighed and glared at the rose which had been painted with a flash of vibrant scarlet from your blood. How foolish you had been. Of course they would have thorns. Now your poor little finger was bleeding freely and staining your formerly pristine nightgown. You clutched your injured hand to your chest and turned to walk back into the manor to tend to the wound when you spotted him.
His face was downcast, shadowed and hidden from you. His shoulders were hunched, and you blinked in confusion.
"Love? Victor?" You called out to him, your pain forgotten momentarily. He was trembling, and you furrowed your brows. Whatever had possessed him to see him so... eerie? You approached him quickly, your hand cradling his face to bring it into the light.
It was then you saw his expression in all his glory.
Victor's fangs were on full display, drooling and snarling your name against the empty night. His golden eyes seemed to glow unnaturally, and you stepped back in shock.
"V-victor?" You squeaked out, unsure of whether or not you should me scared when his full blown pupils dilated and focused on you.
"Oh darling..." he half moaned as he shuddered in your arms. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest when you felt the razor sharp pinpricks of what you could only assume were claws poking into your shoulders when he gripped you far too tightly. Your lips parted in quivering terror, and all of a sudden, he was sinking his teeth into your exposed neck.
You screamed, but no one was there to help you from the man you wed.
Victor, sweet and gentile, was a beast. He shoved you into a nearby rosebush, and you sobbed as he tore your nightclothes from your trembling body. Never in the months you had been courting would you have ever imagined that he could be so brutish. Tears welled in your eyes, and the blood from your finger was smeared across his face from where you had tried to push him off of you.
Scratches littered your body, and you clutched the crook of your neck from where he had bitten into your supple skin. You whimpered as you felt the flat of his tongue lapping over the weeping cuts on your thighs. His hands gripped the plush flesh in a vice, and he spread them with a gratuitous groan.
"Oh darling, oh [name]," he murmured over and over again as he pressed hot, sloppy, open mouthed kisses to the available surface. In your chest, you could feel your heart break at the sight of how utterly depraved your lover was through the thin slivers of lights that showed off his feral expression. Through the darkness, you could still make out his flashing, toothy grin. His lips were caked with your blood, dripping like poisoned honey and planted across your legs and chest in kiss marks like it was some crude imitation of rouge.
The sound of clothing shuffling around reached your ears through the haze of burning pain and cold realization. What had you done? Who had you married? It was as if you were on some twisted mockery of a wedding night. The Victor you had pledged your vows to was not the one latching onto your neck once again. The bed of roses was that of your new consummation, and you wept as your husband stole the innocence of your soul.
He whispered sweet nothings with the grace of a snarling thing, and lined himself up with your entrance. You cried out in anguish as he took you swiftly. It was a violent affair. His slow, languishing style of making love to you was replaced by a feral, primal fucking. He clutched you tightly to him to save you for shredding your back as he thrust in you. He whispered your name reverently, and you begged him for mercy.
By the time he had gotten his fill of both your body and blood, you were on the verge of fainting and limp in his arms. Your vision was hazy and distorted, and your body bloomed with searing pain. You couldn't handle it for much longer, you hole sore and filled with his his essence, and you passed out with the white roses around you dyed with speckles of your lifeline.
When you awoke in the morning, the curtains were drawn tightly as they usually were during the day. Victor was kneeling over your bedside, his face twisted in worry.
"Darling!" He cried out and cupped your face the second he realized you were moving. You flinched from his now delicate touch, no sign of his claws, and he frowned.
"[Name]... oh my love, you must forgive me!" He said with adoring eyes and a saccharine smile. He grabbed your jaw more tightly than he ever would have before. Your entire body was covered in bandages, and you whimpered as he looked at you almost desperately. It was like he was forcing himself into the version of himself that you had become so comfortable around.
"It was a momentary lapse in judgement, though I must admit that I cannot promise it won't happen again," Victor sighed almost wistfully as he draped over your form in a mockery of an affectionate embrace. Instead it felt far too possessive and constrictive than anything he had subjected you to before. He inhaled your scent and buried his face against your hair. "You're far too sweet for me to show such restraint, my love," He laughed. He laughed like the previous night wasn't one of the most horrifying things you had ever encountered.
Maybe when you thought of him yearning for you like you were something he needed to live, perhaps you should've considered it much more harshly.
#my writing#yandere x reader#yandere#tw yandere#yandere male#yandere x you#x reader#answered asks#fanfic writing#yandere boy#yandere vampire#vampirism#yandere husband
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King, Queen & The Rose | Choi San & Park Seonghwa ☆
~ ~ call me chérie ☆
☆ Navigation | Kinktober List
☆ Day 13 : Caught in the act
↬ [ Synopsis ] : In the adrenaline-fueled realm of Formula 1, you finds herself drawn to the mysterious "The Rose" despite having your boyfriend San. A steamy night sparks brings confessions, undeniable chemistry and chaos. Will you, the Queen choose your King or the Rose ? Or Both ?
☆ Word Count : 2.9k ☆ Genre : Smut, Some plot, Formula 1 Racer Au. ☆ Pairing : F1 Racer Bf! San x F1 Academy student Gf! F.Reader x F1 Racer! Bestfreind Seonghwa
WARNINGS : Pure smut (18+), a bit of plot, you and San are switch!.Soft! Dom Seonghwa praise, dirty talk, making out, neck kisses, pet names (kitten, baby), stalker-ish behaviour “The Rose”, exhibitionism, mild angst, jealousy, power play, slight voyeurism, unresolved tension.
☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 13 dropping right at ya!. A little long cause I definitely got carried away but hope you enjoy this piece ma chéries.
And before you ask, Second part is already in works and be dropping real soon. “The Rose Blooms” is what it will be called.
A small smile crept onto your face as you unboxed yet another gift from "The Rose." For the past two years, this mysterious admirer had been sending you flowers, plushies, gifts, and more. At first, you were skeptical about receiving presents from a stranger, but the notes they sent along with the gifts carried so much warmth that they chased away any doubts you had about this person being some kind of creep.
Being in the F1 academy, training relentlessly to become a Formula 1 racer, and staying away from your family for the past three years had definitely taken a toll on your mind. Only two people could help you forget the stresses of it all. One was San, Ferrari’s number one F1 racer, a total heartthrob and your boyfriend.
The other was this person, The Rose. You had no idea who they were, but the way they knew everything you liked, the way they warmed your heart, was oddly familiar.
San knew about The Rose sending you stuff and somehow….didn’t seem to mind ?
But why did The Rose remind you of him? Him…..your childhood friend Seonghwa, who also happened to be San’s other half on the track. Another F1 racer for Ferrari who compliemented San’s raw passion with his steady and meticulous driving making them a force to be recokoned with on the tracks.
The Rose could not be Seonghwa, right ? Right!
—
The crowd erupted into chaotic cheers as San crossed the finish line, securing victory in one of the most prestigious races on the F1 calendar. A sea of red engulfed the grandstands as tifosi, Ferrari’s passionate fanbase, celebrated their hero’s triumph at Monza.
Monza, the temple of speed, had once again crowned its hero, and this time it was San.
But this wasn’t an easy win to secure for him, as he had faced relentless pressure from his teammate, Seonghwa, who was right on his tail. The two scarlet cars battled fiercely, neck to neck on each corner and straight pushing the limits of perfection.
On the final lap, with Seonghwa close behind, San drove perfectly through the Parabolica, winning the race. As he crossed the line, the Ferrari garage eriupted with cheers , and tifosi lit red smoke flares covering the whole sky with a shade of deep red, celebrating Ferrari’s historic win.
Seonghwa finished just 1.2 seconds later, highlighting their team's strength. When San pulled into the pit lane, he raised his fist in triumph as his eyes locked with you in the crowd, a cute kitten like smile spreading across his face.. Your cheers filled the air, adding to his excitement as you cheered for both him and Seonghwa.
On the podium, San lifted the winner’s trophy with Seonghwa standing proudly next to him, equally ecsatic with the win. Champagne sprayed everywhere amidst the cheers, a special day for Ferrari, a moment everyone will remember forever.
A few more years and you’ll be part of the F1 circuit too.
As San walked down the podium, you jumped on him, engulfing him in a hug.
“Congrats! Congrats! Congrats! I am so happy for you!” you exclaimed, your voice reflecting how proud and excited you were for your boyfriend. “That race was freaking intense, but somehow you managed to pull it off flawlessly, if I may say.” You kissed his cheek as you complimented him.
“Thanks, baby. Wouldn’t have been possible without your support.” he replied, reciprocating your kiss as the crowd erupted in a chorus of “awws.” To them, you and San were THE ideal couple. In fact, tifosi were more excited about your future entry into the F1 circuit than anyone else. No jealousy, no hate, just pure support.
As San went to speak to his team, you made your way to Seonghwa. “Congrats, best friend!” you said, earning a sweet smile from him.
You and Seonghwa grew up in the same neighborhood, with your moms being best friends. You spent countless evenings playing in the park and talking for hours, sharing everything with each other. Although he was a few years older, your shared interests, great vibes, and undying love for F1, along with his occasional teasing and a dash of his tenderness, proved that age doesn't matter—it's all about the connection!
And now, here you both are, fulfilling that childhood dream, representing one of the greatest companies in the world.Ferrari.
“Hwa, 1.2 seconds! Bruh, you guys are too good, always one-upping each other!” you added, referring to the previous race that Seonghwa had won. He just stared at you, admiring you standing in front of him, his gaze fixed on the scarf wrapped around your neck.
As you waved your hand in front of him, he came back to his senses. “Yo! Hello... Earth to Seonghwa. Are you even listening, buddy?” you asked.
“I—Um, yeah. I am... I am,” he stammered, then continued, “When did you buy this scarf? It looks so good on you.”
“Umm…” you paused, signaling him to come down to your level to whisper in his ear. He chuckled, earning a pout from you. It wasn’t your fault, okay? You weren’t short; he was just extra tall. “I have a secret admirer. His name is ‘The Rose.’ He gave it to me,” you whispered, and he slightly nodded before bursting into fits of laughter.
“You! You have a secret admirer? Sure, sure, I believe you,” he mocked, earning a huff from you as you turned to walk away. He stood there for a few seconds before running to catch up with you.
The whole evening flew by as the entire Ferrari family celebrated the historic win at the most expensive Italian restaurant. The party was lit with expensive food, extravagent drinks and booze menu along with live performance. With San being the man of the moment, it was difficult for you to demand a few moments of alone time with him.
As the party dimmed down, you and San decided to sneak out to have a few moments in privacy.
“Where are we going?” you asked San, who literally was a ball of excitement in his driving seat.
“You’ll see, baby. It’s somewhere special, and I know you’ll love it,” he said, winking at you before returning his focus to the road. You tried to figure out the route, but San always took complex paths whenever he has surprises planned for you.
“Sannie, you’re not gonna tell me?” you asked sweetly, your hand gently rubbing his thigh as he chuckled nervously before clearing his throat and focused on the road.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he gupled as your hand was getting dangerously close to his crotch, wavering his focused gaze.
Growing impatient, you leaned in, letting your lips brush against his ear. “Come on, San. Just a hint?” Your warm breath made him flush, his ears turning pink, a proof of the effect you had on him.
“Nice try” he smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes. “But no hints tonight.”
With a playful pout, you shifted in your seat trying to sit stable as thick anticipation loomed in the air, your eyes tried to figure out the roads. Hmm…now they seem a bit more familiar. Wait was he taking you to the ferrari garage, the place where his beautiful car would be resting right now. The place who had been dying to visit.
The car came to a screeching halt, and your eyes lit up with a knowing look as a happy smile danced on your lips. Yes! Yes! Yes! He's taking you there. To see his scarlet beast, his gorgeous baby. A little less gorgeous than you, but still!
As you and San walked inside, your eyes sparkled at the sight of the beauty, at the freaking red beast that stood in all its glory, with San’s number 10 printed on the front, matching his birthday. You traced your hands along the car, soaking in the feeling of all the tracks San had dominated in this machine. But while you were feeling up the car, your boyfriend was feeling something else.
Two strong hands snaked around your waist firmly as San’s nose traced the crook of your neck, his warm breaths sending goosebumps all over your body.
“San…” you breathed out, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as he gently pulled you against him. “Hmmm… baby,” he replied, his mouth trailing open-mouthed kisses where your neck met your shoulder, making you feel hot all over.
“You loving this baby…?” he asked, his crotch pressed right against your ass, and you could feel his hard length.
“Loving what... the car or you?” you teased, leaning your head back against his shoulder, giving him more of your neck to explore.
“Both, cause the car is mine, and I belong to you. Both at your service, ready to give you everything you desire, baby.” His words sent fireworks exploding in your stomach, while his right hand gently grabbed your chin, tilting it slightly to the side, allowing him to capture your lips. Your soft, juicy lips instantly turned his brain to mush as an insatiable hunger took over him.
His hand slipped from your chin, but without breaking the steamy kiss, his fingers found their place around your throat, gently applying pressure. You moaned into the kiss, leaning further into him, almost grinding against him, making it clear how much you were enjoying this.
San smiled, loving how expressive you were. You had always been responsive to even his subtle gestures, which only pushed him to explore more with you.
Breaking the kiss, he gently guided you toward the car. “I vaguely remember some kitten mentioning she wanted to be taken against my race car,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, as your mind ran wild with images of the positions he would take you in, the ways his girthy length would explore your deepest depths, hitting just the right spots as you lay your head against the car while he pounded into you mercilessly.
Slightly tugging your little black dress up, you lay against the shark fin of his F1 car, giving him a mouthwatering view of your ass. His fingers instantly found your clothed cunt, rubbing the wetness through the fabric, and you moaned against his rough touch, the lace providing just the right amount of friction.
“So wet already, all for me, kitten?” he asked, a devilishly handsome smirk crossing his lips as he rubbed his angry, throbbing member through his pants.
“San… w-what if s-someone sees us?” you asked, struggling to form a coherent sentence while his miraculous fingers worked against your aching core.
“I don’t care,” he replied smugly as he yanked your panties off, the cold air hitting your bare skin, causing goosebumps to ripple across your body. Without warning, two thick fingers entered you, stretching you deliciously. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, his fingers preparing you for his hard, girthy member. He freed himself from his pants, his cock hard and leaking pre-cum, eager to be hugged by your tight walls, when a voice interrupted your intimate moment.
“San, Y/n! What are you—?” Seonghwa's voice broke in as he walked into the garage, cheeks tinged red, clearly having seen more than enough. “Wow, San, you shouldn’t be doing this here. What if someone sees you both?”
You were too stunned to speak, too embarrassed to meet his eyes as no words left your mouth. But San, on the other hand, was far from silent. Cocky, you might add.
“I don’t care. She’s my girlfriend, and I can have her whenever and wherever I want,” San replied, shooting Seonghwa a cocky smirk. “You got a problem with that?” he asked, his voice laced with roughness as if daring Seonghwa to challenge him, all while his tip teased your dripping cunt, sending jolts of electricity through you.
“San, stop—” you tried, your head flicking between him and Seonghwa, still embarrassed but knowing they both needed to stop.
“Actually, would the great Park Seonghwa care to join us?” San continued, making a rather surprising request. Your cheeks burned red as you tried to get off the car, but San held you captive, not letting you move.
Seonghwa scoffed. “No, thanks. Actually, you know what? Continue with your thing... I’m gonna go.” He turned on his heels, ready to leave when San stopped him halfway.
“Will ‘The Rose’ join us?” San said teasingly, as you jerked your head towards him, shock filling your expression as Seonghwa froze in his tracks.
Did San just call Seonghwa ‘The Rose’? Is he ‘The Rose’? No way… he can’t be—how—what… aghhh, why is he ‘The Rose’? Did San know about this all along? What the actual FUCK?!
Slowly turning toward both of you, still laying against San’s car, Seonghwa tried to speak. “How do you kn—”
San interrupted him. “I had my doubts. You acting all lovey-dovey with my girlfriend, numerous deliveries of flowers coming in your name, especially on the days when something really exciting had happened with Y/n! Either I’m not a dumbass, or you’re just too bad at hiding your sickening love for her.” He paused, a slight hint of jealousy evident in his voice as he thrust into you at once, earning a loud whimper.
San was enjoying this way too much. And to admit it honestly, so were you.
“But you know what sealed the deal, buddy? The red scarf. The same one I saw you receiving and the same one I saw around her neck the next day. Do you love her? Why don’t you confess then?” San continued, both with his words and his thrusts, fast and deep, hitting just the right spots as you turned into a whimpering mess beneath him, hands gripping the car tightly as you looked at Seonghwa.
“My love for her isn’t sickening, it’s genuine.All I wanted was to see her happy. Yes, I am ‘The fucking Rose’ and I love her. I’ve loved her since the very first day we met, still do even while she’s with you now.” Seonghwa confessed finally, standing his ground. His eyes met yours, turning soft instantly. One more hard thrust from San followed Seonghwa’s confession.
The revelations tonight were overwhelmingly intense for your little brain to handle, and with San pounding hard, you were almost on the edge and you needed Seonghwa too.
“Oh, you think I don’t care for her? I do care. A lot, actually. And I love giving her whatever the fuck she wants. That’s why I’m inviting you to join.” San said, a little angry at being questioned about his love for you. “You don’t want this, kitten? Your ‘The Rose’ joining us?” San quizzed you, his eyes meeting yours, holding a playful yet hungry desire as you clenced around him.
This freaking ass situation, San's words, Seonghwa’s confession, and San’s merciless thrusts, had you right at the edge, an aching release just waiting to happen, needing only one more little push. The Rose's push.
“Will ‘The Rose’ join us, please?” you asked, your voice dripping with sweetness as your eyes met Seonghwa’s soft gaze. “Hwa, I need you.”
That was all Seonghwa needed to hear. He quickly made his way toward you just as San thrust into you deeply, a chuckle escaping his lips. Adjusting himself between you and San’s car, Seonghwa picked you up, securing your legs around his waist while San remained buried inside you.
Is that even humanly possible? Who cares!
“Be gentle with her,” Seonghwa told San, his hand caressing your cheek, which was pressed against the car, before he kissed your forehead.
“Don’t teach me, Hwa! She loves it,” San shot back, a cocky grin on his face as he leaned closer to you, his breath hot against your ear. “You can’t deny how good it feels when I’m pounding into her like this. She’s practically begging for more.”
“She deserves a little tenderness too. Let The Rose show you how it's done.” With that, Seonghwa captured your lips in a hungry kiss. His lips registered in your mind, tender yet needy, a perfect blend of softness and urgency that sent shivers down your spine.
The kiss felt like a promise, a gentle reminder that even in chaos, his embrace offered comfort. As his hands explored your body, you felt the tension building within you, with San's relentless thrusts pushing you closer to the edge. With one final, deep kiss and a mind-boggling bite on your lower lip from Seonghwa, combined with San's passionate rhythm, you came hard, spilling all over San’s cock.
The world around you faded as pleasure washed over you in waves finally satisfying the ache. Your hands gripped Seonghwa firmly while your head rested in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily as you tried to recover from the intense pleasure.
“Just relax and enjoy it, love,” Seonghwa murmured, pressing a kiss against your hair and caressing it gently. “We’ll take care of you.”
“You're in for a long night kitten. Ready for round two?” San chuckled, pressing a kiss against your cheek, still brimming with energy.
As their words registered in your mind, you realized that surrendering to both of them was a temptation you couldn’t resist. With the King behind you and the Rose in front, this Queen was in for a long night and the night had only just begun. Hehe.
~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off
Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.
© ShixCherie.
#kpop#kpop smut#kpop fluff#kpop imagines#racer au#formula one au#ateez#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#san smut#san x reader#san hard thoughts#san ateez#choi san#seonghwa smut#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa hard thoughts#seonghwa ateez#park seonghwa#ateez sanhwa#sanhwa fic#san x reader x seonghwa#atz smut#poly ateez x reader#poly au#kinktober 2024#shixcherie
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Card Set Hanakotoba
Recently I was discussing with my lovely friend @istoleyourboat about the meanings behind the flowers in this new card set, and I felt the urge to chronicle them somewhere! I thought you guys might get a kick out of it, too, so this seemed as good a place as any to put it.
So without further ado...
1. Hanako-kun - Queen of the Night
The Queen of the Night (月下美人) is a cactus flower that blooms just once a year for a single night. Because of this, the most heavily associated meanings with the flower are "transient beauty", "fleeting love," and "the urge to see someone just once."
The short-lived life of this flower feels quite fitting for our ghosty boy! I also like how the flower looks both beautiful and unsettling...all around a fantastic choice by AidaIro.
2. Nene Yashiro - Strawberry Blossoms
If you have paid attention to the Hanakotoba in TBHK before, then Nene being associated with strawberries should be nothing new to you. Regardless, the prevalent Hanakotoba for Strawberry Blossoms (イチゴ) are "love," "innocence," and "you make me happy."
The "you make me happy" one makes me want to kick my feet around and squeal a little. Isn't that cute!? I also feel the strawberry is especially fitting for Nene because it seems like something she would grow in her Gardening Club.
3. Kou - Clivia
Otherwise known by the names Bush Lily or Natal Lily, the Hanakotoba for Clivia (君子蘭) are "sincere," "noble" and "good-hearted."
I think this all fits very nicely with our resident good boy Kou, hm?
4. Teru - Bird of Paradise
The Bird of Paradise (ストレリチア) symbolizes "faithfulness," "magnificence," "a bright future" and "superficial love."
Even at a glance this flower really pops out at you, making it a great fit for the ever-impressive Teru. I really, really love this choice!!
5. Sakura - Hellebore
Otherwise known as the Christmas Rose, the Hellebore (クリスマスローズ) represents "reminiscence," "never forget me" and "notice my woes."
The way this beautiful flower seems to cast its head down makes it look almost sad. I suppose that's why it has such pitiful meanings associated with it!
6. Natsuhiko - King Protea
King Protea (キングプロテア), also known as the Sugarbush, symbolizes "strength," "courage," "resilience," and "a king's quality."
If you notice, Natsuhiko always has a little crown-shaped tuft hidden in his hair, so AidaIro associating Natsuhiko with a flower that references royalty pleases me. There's still a lot of mystery surrounding him, but we can at least confirm that Natsuhiko is, indeed, strong and resilient.
7. Akane - Ivy
The plain, non-flowering ivy stands out in stark contrast to the other plants here, but that's because the hanakotoba for it is just that good. Ivy (ヘデラ) means "everlasting love," "I take this feeling to the afterlife," "faithfulness", and "marriage."
Like, if that doesn't scream Akane, I don't know what does.
8. Aoi - Hydrangea
Again, if you've been paying attention to Hanakotoba in the series, this will not be the first time you've seen Aoi paired with hydrangea. Regardless, hydrangea (アジサイ) represents "enduring love," "mystique," and "fickleness."
The hydrangea is also associated with rejection, more specifically the coldness of a person who rejects the romantic advances of another. It's just such a perfect Aoi flower, there's no wonder AidaIro is so attached to it.
💐🌸🌼🌻🌷🌹🥀🌺
Thank you for reading till the end! And I urge you to look up these flowers yourself and see if you can find any meaning to them I may have missed. You might find something brilliant that I completely overlooked!
#tbhk#jshk#toilet bound hanako kun#hanakotoba#aoi akane#akane aoi#hanako kun#nene yashiro#amane yugi#natsuhiko hyuuga#sakura nanamine#teru minamoto#kou minamoto
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Hey,
Could you please write college au with Hannibal Lecter?
.⋆。A New Study。⋆.
Hannibal Lecter x plus size reader
A late-night study session in a tiny dorm could be exactly what you needed to keep around the mysterious classmate from college
Warnings: College!au, fluff, one bed trope kinda, implied smut WC: 819
6k Follower Celebration Bingo
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
“Are you paying attention?” You almost scoffed at the question. Amber eyes, though dulled by the dim lighting of your bedside lamp, bore into you with an intensity that made you shiver. His dark brows were scrunched together as he observed your hunched figure from where you were perched on your now unmade bed, papers and open textbooks scattered around you.
‘Like I could concentrate when you look that fucking good.’ Your sleep-deprived mind wanted to say but instead you swallowed the last of your energy drink and cleared your throat. “It’s 3 am, maybe we should call it a night. Don’t think I’m gonna understand the purpose of the fucking pancreas anymore now than if I stayed up the whole night.”
Hannibal licked his lips as he shut his notebook, a strand of black hair falling in front of his left eye. He smoothly brushed it back into place. “You might be right. We should get some rest before the exam.”
You hummed and shifted so you could face your study buddy. He was wearing his typical black button-up, still perfectly ironed even after almost 12 hours of cramming and a full morning of an anatomy lab. You could only imagine how awful you looked right now, especially compared to the ever-perfect Hannibal Lecter.
“Thank you for helping me study. ‘and being my eye-candy’ “I don’t think I would’ve gotten this far in med school without you.” He leaned back on your desk chair, his legs spreading as he relaxed into the cheap mesh backing.
“You’ve done rather well without me and I have no doubt you would’ve been fine without my assistance.” His accent was thicker with the late hour, a fact that made your stomach flutter. While he never explicitly told you where he was from, moments like these gave you little clues and hints on his mysterious past. It was even a miracle you learned his name.
Heat crawled up your neck, blooming across your cheeks as you bashfully looked away. “You only say that cause I always check your citations for you.” A rare laugh escaped his lips, instantly brightening your dorm room with its sound.
“I’m sure.” A pleasant silence settled between you, one that had you searching for any excuse for him to stay. You cursed yourself for stopping your study for the night, you should’ve powered through just so you could keep ‘tall dark and mysterious’ right next to you all night.
“It’s rather late.” Hannibal muttered though he made no move to gather his things.
You hummed, then your exhausted brain finally caught up to the hint he had just dropped. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to find the right words. “It is! I mean it’s really late, so the trains and buses have stopped running. And I doubt a cab will come all the way out here. So maybe- maybe you could stay over. If you’re comfortable with that of course! I don’t want to force you or anything.”
“You are very generous. I think I will stay, like you said, taxis don’t come this far out of the city.” He smiled and the breath was knocked from your lungs.
“We’ll have to share my bed.” You pushed all your papers together in a jumbled up pile, shoving them onto your bedside table. “I hope you don’t mind.” You missed his sly smirk as his gaze briefly fell to your ass.
“I hope you don’t mind, I sleep in my boxers.” Your stomach flipped.
‘As long as you don’t mind me drooling.’
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He smirked, his thick fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt, slowly exposing more and more of his (of course) perfect chest. You blinked.
“Did I say that out loud?” He rose to his feet, putting you at eye-line with his belt buckle. You swallowed thickly. Dark hair, perfectly trimmed and shaped poked out from where the front of his dress pants sagged and you couldn’t bear to look away, the sleep-deprivation overpowering any shame you would’ve normally had in this moment.
“Even if you didn’t, it was quite obvious what you were thinking. What you’re always thinking. You have delightfully expressive eyes.” His belt slipped through the loops and dropped to the carpeted floor.
“Uh huh.” His shirt slipped from his broad shoulders.
“It is quite flattering how you look at me when you think I’m not watching.” The button of his pants popped open as he dragged his fly down, leaving you hungry for more. You didn’t even realise you had been slowly leaning forwards until your nose bumped against his stomach. “Just like now, like you want to devour me.”
“But I believe it is distracting you from your studies far too much.” A large, warm hand cupped your full cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze as Hannibal grinned.
“Perhaps we should review some anatomy.”
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Hannibal Lecter
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I Love You, I've Sinned - Azel
As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this
One day during my stay in Tanzanite, I wound up becoming a servant to God—
Emma: Prince Azel…Is it true that you deliver divine punishment to people?
When I asked Prince Azel about this after handing him something he had me fetch for him in town, rather than giving me his usual smile, he scowled.
Azel: What did you see while out in town?
Emma: There was theft in the market today. The criminal was immediately captured by a passerby—
~~ Flashback ~~
Male onlooker: How dare you…Never did I expect that there would be such a ruckus in God’s own land.
Female onlooker: You will face divine punishment. Our Living God will not forgive you.
~~ Flashback end~~
Emma: —It seemed like everyone, the thieves included, feared “divine punishment”.
Azel: Absurd.
Emma: Have you ever threatened people across the country in the past?
Azel: That slander deserves some reparations.
Emma: I can’t say anything at all can I…
Azel: Don’t talk nonsense unless you want to experience divine punishment for yourself.
Emma: Ah, so divine punishment does exist.
Azel: Who knows?
After checking what he had me get for him, Prince Azel placed the jute bag in a corner of the crumbling ruins.
The temple which was supposed to be the Living God’s home, was as shabby as ever.
(Prince Azel’s a two-faced god, so it’d be scary if he actually did deliver divine punishment…)
Azel: Have you ever sinned?
Seems like Prince Azel’s in a good mood if he’s continuing the conversation even though he said not to talk about nonsense.
Emma: Probably…not
Azel: You’re lying.
Emma: Why do you say so?
Azel: Because no humans are without sin.
Emma: …Wouldn’t that mean everyone’s been imprisoned before?
Azel: Has anyone ever told you how empty your head is?
Emma: This is the first.
Azel: Have you never been exposed as an idiot before?
(You have a response for everything…)
Prince Azel leaned against a wall in the shade.
I followed suit and took a sip of water out of my flask.
Azel: Only acts that violate the law aren’t sins. Sins are actions that deserve God’s divine punishment.
Emma: So only God has control?
Azel: Is that so bad?
Emma: …No.
Azel: Simply put, anything you think you’re guilty of is a sin. Surely you’ve also been guilty of something to some extent. Whether it’s telling small lies, hiding things from others, or doing something to hurt someone unintentionally… As long as you’re alive, it’s hard to avoid them.
Emma: Well when you put it that way.
(Then, looking back, I probably have too)
(Sins that I need to apologize for…)
Azel: Confess your sins to God, and through receiving divine punishment, all will be forgiven. Perhaps that’s why people seek God…How laughable.
(Hm?)
Mysterious, starry eyes look at the flask in my hand.
Emma: …I’m not giving it to you?
Azel: Stingy.
Emma: I don’t want to hear that from a greedy god.
Azel [polite]: Ahhh, then at this rate I will dry up and die.
Emma: …
Azel [polite]: For a human to treat a god so cruelly…That’s god abuse.
Emma: …
Azel [polite]: God abuse is a felony and the charges cannot be compared to any that has existed to this point—
Emma: OKAY! Then in exchange for the water, please forget that the reparations demanded earlier ever existed.
Azel [polite]: Of course. Thank you very much.
(Can’t believe you put on the god act in times like this…)
When I handed Prince Azel the flask, he started drinking immediately.
(I don’t mind giving him water, but…does Prince Azel care at all?)
Feeling restless somehow, I turned my gaze away from the mysterious god and toward the ruins.
(...)
(If god abuse is a sin, then…)
(There’s one guilty sin I remember)
--
—That night.
When I came to, I found myself in place with half-bloomed roses.
(I’m here again…)
The usual dream in the usual place, but today, there was something unusual.
At the end of the countless paths stood a figure.
That person sat improperly on the oak table where a book usually was, and as I walked down the path, he turned from the large full moon in the sky toward me.
Azel: We ran into each other in a dream? …Give me a break.
Emma: That’s my line. It’s not like I enjoy running into you either.
(I heard that dreams have some deep psychological meaning, but…)
(I wonder if seeing Prince Azel means he’s occupying my mind that much)
(...That being a good or bad thing’s another story)
Azel sat on the table with one knee up and looked down at me cheekily.
It was like the dream world enhanced his mysterious, inhuman appearance.
Emma: …You’re not here to deliver divine punishment, are you?
Azel: If you’re feeling guilty then maybe.
Emma: …
Azel: You are.
Emma: Who knows…
Azel: Sins are forgiven when you confess. It’s easier to let it out than to suffer in distress, that’s just how it is.
Emma: …
Azel: Say it, then. If you seriously ask for forgiveness, then I’ll deliver divine punishment to you. …It’s not a free service though.
(That’s why he’s so oddly assertive)
Emma: Nevermind then.
Azel: No, ask for forgiveness. Or else this dream won’t end.
Emma: That’s a threat!
Azel: Talking back to God like that’s asking for more to be added on to what you owe.
(...If Prince Azel wasn’t a real god, then I could ignore him)
Tanzanite’s living god was a true god, recognized and revered as sacred throughout the continent.
Even if the face he showed me was different from the face he showed the public, I wouldn’t dare to ignore God’s word.
Emma: …Will you listen without getting angry?
Azel: That depends.
Emma: To tell you the truth… The other day, I saw you taking a nap. Even when I got closer, you didn’t wake up, so… …Out of curiosity, I played with your beautiful, silver hair.
Azel: …
Emma: I’m so sorry! But it felt really nice to touch!
Azel: That’s a grave sin.
When I tried to run away, Prince Azel lept off the table and stopped me with a hand on my shoulder before jabbing my cheek.
Emma: Please stop! The jabbing really feels like you’re going to hollow my cheeks out!
Azel: Accept your punishment. I noticed your eccentric behavior though.
Emma: Then why didn’t you wake up?
Azel: I wasn’t in the mood to entertain you.
(A very Prince Azel-like reason)
When he finally released me, I rubbed my cheek.
(Even though I suffered…my heart definitely feels lighter)
(I can’t let him off easy…)
Emma: Have you ever sinned, Prince Azel?
When I asked the question in retaliation, he shrugged in exasperation.
Azel: How could a god sin?
Emma: At it again…
Azel: If there’s no one to punish it, then it’s not a sin. If neither man nor god can punish me, then no one can punish me for my sins.
Emma: …
Azel: Perhaps one day God will commit a mortal sin. When that time comes…I wonder who will sit on the Throne of God and punish me.
Prince Azel’s mutterings melted into the dream space.
(That…doesn’t sound like a joke…)
Emma: Leave it to me. If it needs to be done, I’ll do it.
As if to dispel the mysterious aura around the god, I made a proud declaration.
Emma: I hope your cheeks will be able to stand it.
Azel: That doesn’t sound like a big punishment to me.
Emma: Stay complacent while you can. I have a mean slap.
Azel: …No one’s asking you to slap me.
Emma: If it doesn’t hurt, then it’s not a punishment worthy of being divine punishment.
When I pretended to slap him, Prince Azel smiled condescendingly.
However, there didn’t appear to be any ill intentions behind the smile.
Azel: If God were to sin, then it would be a sin on a different level from humans. Possibly enough to wipe out an entire country. Punish that sin if you can…Actually you might do that.
Prince Azel looked up at the glittering moon in the dream world.
I still wasn’t sure about the meaning behind that melancholic look on his profile.
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Lady Nyx/Nox deep dive, straight to the point info
Lady Nyx is wonderful, her beauty even ascends the stars, May we respect and adore Lady Nyx as a goddess and as a wonderful mother.
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆
Herbs • Dahlias, Cannas, Some lobelia, Night-blooming jasmine, Moonflowers, Datura, Tuberose, Evening primrose, Queen of the Night epiphyllum, Herbs that only grow at night, black leaves, black flowers, Blackthorn, Cypress, Holly, Juniper, Locust, Pomegranate, Witch Hazel, Comfrey, Honeysuckle, Ivy, Lavender, Mugwort, Patchouli, Primrose, Vervain, Nectarines, Dragon Fruit, Morning Glory, Nightshade, Roses, Lilies, Poppies
Animals• Horses, Owl, dogs, bats, black bulls, Blue Jay, Crow, Sparrow, Snake, Turtle, cat
Zodiac • your moon sign.
Colors • Black, Dark blue, Dark green, Dark Purple
Crystal• Obisidian, Morion, Jet, Hematite, Onyx, Black tourmaline, Black Sapphire, Black moonstone, Black agate, Shungite, Black calcite, Eye Agate, Amethyst, Andalusite, Apophyllite, Cat's Eye, Hematite, Moss Agate, Moonstone, Petrified Wood, Smokey Quartz
Symbols• Black wings, Dark clouds, Black fog, Egg, New Moon, Stars, key, veil, poppy, serpents, owls.
you can wear in their honor• you can veil in their honor, PJs
Deity of• Night, she is the personification of it
Patron of• Night, Sleep, Death, the Fates, Nemesis, Old Age, Darkness, Light, Motherhood, Magic, Mystery, and the unknown;
Offerings• Black candles, Poetry or songs related to the night, Images of the night sky, Beef, Milk, Black flowers, Black fruits, Dark red wine, Black animal votives, Dew (the one that gathers after sunset), Dark feathers, Dark liquors/beers. Black Tea/Coffee, Symbols of Her children (ex-torch, skull, scissors), Black fabric/veil/cloak, Dark chocolate, Honey/molasses, Viniq (shimmery liqueur that looks like a galaxy in a bottle)
Devotional• Go star gazing, donate to owl shelters, go to the zoo to see her animals, draw her, listen to a playlist for her, go camping under the stars, go glamping to look at the stars, Take a night time walk, Get a good night’s rest, Learn a new star or constellation each week, Stay up late, do something you enjoy without fearing the dark, Sleep with your windows open, Burn a candle that represents the stars, Sleep in every once and a while, Watch an astronomy documentary, Be extra polite to those who have to work the night shift, Wear dark colors, Learn about which animals are active at night in your area, Go for a night drive, Do divination at night, Listen to music with your headphones in, Use silver, black, and gold glitter, Plant some flowers that only bloom at night, Use a star/constellation app, Read the House of Night series, Watch the evening light fade away into darkness (you can do this in your window, or watch a lapse on YouTube of it), Wear more things with the stars or planets on them, Defend someone who is vulnerableble, Turn your electronics off a couple hours before bed each night, Drink an herbal tea with cinnamon before bed, If you’re staying up late already, make your night productive. (Ex- Complete some homework, tidy up your room), Keep a dream journal, Learn how to identify owls by their calls, Make the night sky your screensaver/home screen, Wear scents that remind you of the night, watch a video of the stars, and sleep with stars in the background.
Ephithets• Bringer of Night, Mother of Daimones, Mother of the Cosmos, Subduer of Gods and Men, Mother of Mysteries, The Dark and Shining, The Winged, of the Great Shadows, Dressed in Stars, Dew Bringer, of the Witching Hour,
of the Deep and Silent Dark.
Equivalents (alike but not the same)• Nótt (Norse), Selene (Greek), Hecate (Greek), Nox (Roman), Nyx (Greek), Al-Qaum (Arabian), Nabatean (Arabain), Itzpapalotl (Aztec), Metztli (Aztec), Tezcatlipoca (Aztec), Khonsu (Egyptian), Nut (Egyptian)
Signs they are reaching out• Sudden fascination with stars, seeing her Symbols and attributes all of the sudden, a pull to her and the night.
Vows/omans• None, maybe wedding vows, but many say she just has Erebus as a boyfriend, not a husband.
Morals• Unkown, but most suspect Morally grey.
Courting• Erebus (darkness)
Personality• She is motherly and protective of her children,
Home• Tartruas
Mortal or immortal • immortal
Fact• The first Deity to exist,
Roots• Gaia, Birthed at the beginning of time, lived in Tartarus.
Parentage• Chaos
Siblings• Gaia (goddess of the Earth/mother nature), Erebus (god of darkness), Uranus/Ouranos (god of the heavens), and Tartarus (god of the underworld).
Pet• The two/four horses pulling her chariot
Children • Aether and Hemera (Day) by Erebus (Darkness), Thanatos (gentle death), Hypnos (sleep), she also made the spirits - the Fates, Sleep, Death, Strife, and Pain. Aether, Moros, Apate, Dolos, the Keres, the Moirai, the Hesperides, Oizys, Momus, Philotes, Geras, Eris
Appearance in astral or gen• In ancient art Nyx was depicted as either a winged goddess or charioteer, sometimes crowned with dark mists.
Festivals • Wiccan Yule, Wiccan Samhain, Winter solstice, you can do a ritual for her on the full and dark moon, but there is a feast you can hold in her honor, which is called Lemuralia.
Day • her time is Twilight, Dusk, and Midnight, and her day is Monday
Season• winter
Direction• north
Status• Primordial Goddess of night, even Zeus fears her, one of the first primordial beings alive, she was there for the creation of the universe.
Planet• Moon
Her Tarot cards• Death, Temperance
Scents/Inscene • Myrtle, Camphor, Patchouli, Lavender, watery, musky, earthy
My opinion • She is a very hard divine being to find information on, I hope this helps, but I've never met her before, I assume she's great, my friend says she is kind and calls her ‘Mother’
Prayers•
In general
Beautiful, black-eyed Nyx, cloaked in darkness, older than old, daughter of misty Chaos, mother of great and mighty spirits, I call to you. Ever-present one, you live in the shadows; we know you in the dusk, in the comfort of the night. Broad-winged Nyx, you clasp the hand of bright Hemera, each eve and morn, you greet her with love and sorrow for only in those moments may you embrace your child. Goddess, awesome one, in your realm are we all unblemished, in your realm do lovers’ promises ring true, in your realm are all things possible, if only until daybreak. Nyx, I honor you.
Small prayer
“Nyx, mother of the night, mother of sleep, mother of death: Might your darkness embrace me Might your energy caress me Might you be mine and Might I be yours Blessed be.“
In general
O ancient Goddess, born of Chaos and steeped in shadow, I honor you now and always. With eyes which have watched the beginnings of all that is, see us now embracing your sleep and mystery. With power that strikes fear into the hearts of the most revered of Gods,
I remember your strength when I am searching for my own. In the starless night where light shines not i will give my thanks to your Greatness, And surrender to the dark.
Links/websites/sources • Nyx - Greek-Goddesses Wiki - Fandomhttps://www.theoi.com/Protogenos/Nyx.html mystical-sleepy-musings <a href="https://greekgodsandgoddesses.net/goddesses/nyx/">Nyx – Greek Goddess of The Night: https://greekgodsandgoddesses.net</a> - Greek Gods & Goddesses, June 10, 2018 https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyx https://www.theoi.com/Protogenos/Nyx.htmlhttps://www.britannica.com/topic/Hypnoshttps://greekgodsandgoddesses.net/goddesses/nyx/https://www.ancient-origins.net/myths-legends-europe/nyx-goddess-0017255 https://www.worldhistory.org/Nyx/https://gods-and-demons.fandom.com/wiki/Nyx https://www.moonfallmetaphysical.com/s/stories/nyx-greek-goddess#google_vignette https://www.moonfallmetaphysical.com/s/stories/nyx-greek-goddess#google_vignette https://mythopedia.com/topics/nyx https://oldworldgods.com/greeks/nyx-greek-goddess-of-the-night/https://www.vintageisthenewold.com/game-pedia/what-does-nyx-goddess-look-like https://aminoapps.com/c/hellenistic-polytheism/page/item/nyx/Vn7V_bmCvIP7XMLvlKzJJbl2lGY55JLxDZhttps://thebacchichuntress.tumblr.com/post/127160005123/offerings-to-nyx/amphttps://www.tumblr.com/heatherwitch/161308460295/nyxhttps://tuiliel.tumblr.com/post/139053552874/epithets-of-nyx/amphttps://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_night_deities https://greekpagan.com/category/prayers-2/nyx/#:~:text=older%20than%20old%2C%20daughter%20of,the%20comfort%20of%20the%20night.Magickal Spothttps://magickalspot.com › nyxGoddess Nyx: Prayers, Symbols, Books & More [Guide]https://www.tumblr.com/moonlitmagic/189775766368/prayer-for-nyx
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆
This post is payment to my friend @briislame
May Nyx cover you with the calmness of night.
I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.
#the gods#hellenic devotion#hellenic polytheism#hellenic worship#doing the research for you#greek gods#greek mythology#ancient greek#lady nyx#nyx#nox#nyx goddess#hellenic gods#goddess#faith#roman goddess#greek goddess#greek pantheon#greek myth#greek myths
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Queen of the Night, Lilith
Demonic goddess of transformation, dark wisdom, mysteries, transformational love, challenges, magick, death and rebirth, spiritual initiation, and the night.
Lilith is the Queen of Night; the Dark Mother who whispers from the shadows and guides us through the Path of Thorns. Those who wish to follow her walk this very path, seeking to become as the perfect crimson rose, blooming in the eternal Night.
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Til Death Do Us Part | Part 1
Masterlist
Astarion x f!reader, Arranged Marriage AU
Word Count: 6.5k
(CW: general vampirism, period typical sexism, neglectful parenting)
Summary:
“I must thank you for your company. I fear you have been the highlight of my night.” Astarion gives your hand an affectionate squeeze before he’s dropped it and disappeared into the night.
You stand there for a moment, dazed and coming back to your senses. Your skin is still flushed and hot as you imagine again what Astarion’s lips might have felt like against the back of your hand. Or perhaps pressed against your own? You think of Astarion and his sweet words and beautiful face. Perhaps it was possible to marry for love, after all. Perhaps Astarion would be your saving grace. For who couldn't resist ending the night in love with that man?
Read on ao3 here
The carriage creaks and groans as it makes its way up the hill. You feel the stern eyes of your father pressing into you like a heavy weight, a reminder not to forget the importance of the night, a reminder to know your place, girl.
Your entrance into society had been underwhelming, to say the least, and you could rapidly feel your father reaching a point of resentment that he still hadn’t been able to marry you off. Being the youngest daughter and with your mother passing when you were a young girl, you were simply a loose end that your father needed to tie off before he could go back to doing whatever it was noble men liked to do in their free time. You always assumed it was a lot of drinking and hunting.
You didn’t particularly want to be married, so you hadn’t really been entertaining suitors. What was the point of shackling yourself to someone if not for love? What was the point of allowing a man to own you and control you? You’d much rather spend your time alone with a little house, to garden and read as you please.
But, an unmarried woman is a dangerous woman, and that cannot be allowed.
So, you were in the carriage, attempting not to shrink under your father’s gaze as you headed off to a ball that seemed to be a last ditch effort to see you married. You stare down at your dress, instead, intently studying the shimmery embroidery and beadwork. It truly was a stunning dress, perhaps the nicest you had ever owned. The corset was pushing so hard at your chest that your bosom threatened to spill out of the top. You were not an arrogant or boastful person, but even you had to admit that you were breathtaking when you saw yourself in the mirror. A ripe fruit ready to be plucked by a husband, as your father had said.
The carriage rolls to a stop and you would prefer to jump out and take in a deep gulp of air to calm your nerves. But, you must always remember your manners first and so you patiently wait for the door to open and the escort’s hand to assist you down from the carriage.
The manor is fantastical, beyond even your wildest dreams. The entryway is full of candles in gold and gem encrusted candelabras, flowers blooming everywhere you look. The brilliant red and white roses fill the summer air with a sweet, perfumed scent. The House of Ancunin was always known for their opulence and it appears the newest young lord plans to continue the family legacy.
The Ancunins had been around for generations, their secrets and mysteries kept locked away in their manor on the hill, doors only opening for the occasional, extravagant party. It had been a long time since a ball had been hosted at the manor. For many years, it appeared that the noble family line had threatened to die off and fade into obscurity.
But recently, the new Lord Ancunin had made his presence known and celebrated his arrival into society. There were rumors that he was a bastard or that he had bought his title as the last ‘real’ Ancunin had died off. But nevertheless, this was the first time the manor doors would be open to the public again since the days of your grandparents- and everyone will be flaunting their wealth tonight like desperate peacocks.
You try to keep your mouth from falling open as you gawk at the ornate entryway, littered with art that it would take hours to fully appreciate. You would rather stop and admire, but your father rushes you into the ballroom. You’ve been reminded again and again what your job is for tonight- to dance and flirt and stop chasing nice men away.
The ballroom, with its giant windows and chandeliers seemingly floating in the air stuns you when you walk in. You’re immediately swept onto the dance floor as the orchestra swells in a symphony of music. You catch the way your beaded skirt reflects the light in the mirror as you twirl and for a moment, you’re stunned when you see yourself. You look radiant. Perhaps the only person in attendance who seems to match the grandeur of the ballroom.
Your first dance partner is dull, to say the least. And the next speaks only of himself, hardly paying any attention to you. You catch a break every now and then with a man who is at least light on his feet, but your night seems to be doomed to a vicious cycle. Dull and selfish, dull and selfish.
As you continue to lament in your head, you’re glided into the arms of a new partner. It takes a minute to pull yourself back to reality. You had expected yet another brainless Sergeant regaling you with stories of his military prowess that you would be forced to pretend to listen to. When instead, you’re met with silence, you finally turn to look up at your new partner.
Your breath catches in your throat and you feel your heartbeat quicken dangerously. The man’s stunning eyes quickly dart down to your throat before returning to your face. Or perhaps he was looking at your cleavage? He certainly wouldn’t be the first man tonight to fall victim to the wonders of corsetry. And was it just a trick of the light, or are his eyes red?
This man is undeniably the most beautiful person you have ever seen. The light from the room catches against the white curls meticulously framing his face, creating a halo. It seems impossible that this apparition might be human and not some hallucination conjured up in your boredom.
“Forgive me for intruding,” he says, in a sweet, melodic voice that seems to lilt in time with the music. “But I could no longer endure your absence from my arms.”
You’ve somehow managed to keep in step while you’ve been waxing poetry in your head about the stranger in front of you. Perhaps it was a testament to the many years of dancing that were drilled into you growing up, or perhaps it was because this angel was so good at leading you. But your footsteps do falter at his words, only a step or two before he’s guided you back on track. He’s still looking at you expectantly and you remember that you need to talk, that you can’t just keep staring at him in awe.
“Well, now that you’ve caught me, what do you plan to do with me?” You sound ridiculous, you think. Voice timid and tapering off a bit at the end from nerves. This is not who you are, some silly girl, driven half-mad the first time you’re given attention by a man.
But the man looks down at you through his pale lashes, eyes deep and dark with hunger and you think you might drop to the floor and weep and beg for him. A part of you wants to offer up your neck so he can rip your throat open with his teeth.
His voice is low and dangerous, like a predator, and it fills your stomach with a warmth that spreads through your veins. “Darling, I plan on never letting you go again. They’ll have to tear you away from me at the end of the night.”
You can’t quite remember when your throat got so dry, but a breathless, strangled sigh involuntarily leaves you at his words.
“Nor would I want to be anywhere else,” you manage to squeak out and the satisfied smirk that spreads across his face is worth it.
The music swells again, the song coming to an end and you dip as the dance requires. The man bends with you and you feel his breath against your neck. He must be nervous, too, you think because his breath comes out as sharp puffs of air. Deep in your mind, a part of you wishes that he would close the gap and his luscious mouth would make contact with the delicate skin of your neck. You have to remind yourself that would be ridiculous and improper in the middle of a dancefloor.
You stay dipped in his arms for a few seconds longer than necessary, much longer than what is considered appropriate in polite society. Your eyes fall closed and you feel your tongue wet your lips as he breathes against your neck. You savor that moment, locking it away in a secluded part of your mind so you can relive it forever. All too quickly, you’ve been lifted upright again and twirled on your feet.
“You’re an exquisite dance partner, madam,” the man compliments. You realize he’s trying to politely ask for your name and you give it to him. You would gladly give him anything he could ever want. You’re half desperate to rip the heart from your own chest and offer it to him on one of the gaudy platters that waiters are serving drinks on.
The man repeats your name with a wicked grin and you feel said heart stutter in your chest.
“My father would preen to hear your compliment but in truth, I believe a woman is only as good of a dancer as her partner, sir,” you reply, truly shocked at the coherency of the words managing to tumble themselves out of your mouth. “May I ask your name?”
“Lord Ancunin,” he replies and everything connects. So, this is the mysterious lord of the manor. You can see why he keeps himself locked up in secrecy. He could bring the world to ruin with that handsome face.
Lord Ancunin twirls you out and pulls you in close to his chest, his breath a deep whisper against the shell of your ear when he says, “Though, I hope you will call me Astarion.”
“Fitting,” you giggle when you turn to face him again and he quirks a pale brow up in question. You give him a dazzling smile of your own as you say, “A face as beautiful as yours belongs up in the night sky next to all the other stars.”
You did know how to be charming if you wanted to, even if your father never seemed to believe you.
“Ah, so you do know how to spin honeyed words back at me. Have I finally met my match?” The smile he gives you is mischievous and it makes you feel like you’re in on some inside joke with him. You like that feeling, you realize. The feeling of just you and Astarion, wrapped together in a world all of your own.
“If all it takes is a few sweet words to impress you, I am lucky you have found me so early in the night, before the crowd can woo you away from me. For surely everyone here will sing praises meant to dazzle our mysterious host,” you offer him a teasing smile of your own. He lets out a scoff and rolls his eyes.
“Oh, but darling, the words only matter when they come from your sweet lips. The rest of this rabble is nothing compared to you,” Astarion’s hand has dipped ever so slightly lower along the curve of your waist as he speaks in a low, rich voice. His touch, combined with his words, send your head spinning. You’ve received flatteries and had your flirtations like any woman, but there’s something about Astarion that is addicting and leaves you craving more.
Astarion has guided you to the edge of the ballroom floor by the massive windows overlooking the gardens, exploding with all varieties of blooms. Even in this darkened view, they’re stunning and a part of you wishes to go out and explore them. Perhaps you can convince Astarion to join you and you could walk with your arm tucked in the curve of his, letting your fingers ‘accidently’ sneak down to feel the sinewy muscles in his forearms.
Your mind wanders, questioning if Astarion spends much time out in the gardens. Or what he does all day up in his manor on the hill. As any noble Lord, there’s bound to be servants, but you doubt Astarion has any family. The Ancunin line was about to die out before Astarion seemingly appeared out of nowhere to revive it. It’s sad to think of him spending his days up here with no one who loves him, a fate you had grown intimately familiar with yourself after the last of your brothers moved away.
“Is it lonely up here by yourself?” You ask brazenly. Your own voice surprises you as you speak the question you’ve been wondering aloud. Astarion’s mouth opens slightly and he’s silent, as if you’ve managed to shock him to his very core. The shake of his head is nearly imperceptible before he’s schooling his features again, lips curling back into a cutting smile.
“Perhaps I’ve simply been waiting for your company,” he says, but you’re a bit disappointed by his empty answer. Though, you suppose it was rather rude of you to ask a deeply personal question in such a public setting.
“Do you like the gardens?” Astarion redirects the conversation, noticing how you’ve been staring intently over his shoulder at the greenery through the enormous glass windows.
“I’m quite fond of roses,” you tell him, a bit shy at the confession. Your mother used to have a few bushes that she cherished when you were a little girl, but they had died with her.
“Roses are very beautiful, as long as you don’t mind a few thorns.”
The double meaning behind his words is obvious to you in that moment, though Astarion is far more beautiful than any silly little flower you’ve ever seen. His beauty is just as sharp though, just as deadly. You wouldn’t be surprised if people had killed for this man, if people had died for him.
“I’ve always had a special talent for avoiding them,” you give him a teasing smile back and his eyes sparkle with glee at your response. They’re such an unusual shade. In this dark corner of the room they appear an unnatural brown-ish red. They suit him, obviously, as if every feature on his face was carefully selected to create the most perfect man imaginable. But those eyes give him a dangerous gleam that makes you want to drown in him.
“I don’t doubt that at all, little flower,” Astarion says with that low voice that sends arousal pooling deep in your stomach.
Your heart stutters at the endearment. Little flower. Not a practiced, rehearsed platitude, but something just for you. Something based on a moment you had shared together. You hope against hope that you aren’t making this moment up in your head but no, Astarion is here and he’s real and maybe everything will work out alright. Maybe marriage doesn’t have to be a curse that plagues you for the rest of your life.
Before you can speak, a man with dark, graying hair approaches Astarion, whispering quickly in his ear. Astarion’s gentle smile leaves his face as he listens intently. When the other man steps away, Astarion’s blazing gaze returns to you.
“I do apologize, my lady, but I have an urgent matter I must attend to,” Astarion’s lips are still turned down into a tight frown as he sweeps into an elegant, over-the-top bow. The motion looks so natural on him.
When he rises, he takes your hand in his own. You feel your breath catch in your throat as his lips brush against the back of your hand. You really wish you weren’t wearing your stupid gloves and could truly feel the softness of his lips against your skin.
“I must thank you for your company. I fear you have been the highlight of my night.” Astarion gives your hand an affectionate squeeze before he’s dropped it and disappeared into the night.
You stand there for a moment, dazed and coming back to your senses. Your skin is still flushed and hot as you imagine again what Astarion’s lips might have felt like against the back of your hand. Or perhaps pressed against your own? You think of Astarion and his sweet words and beautiful face. Perhaps it was possible to marry for love, after all. Perhaps Astarion would be your saving grace. For who couldn't resist ending the night in love with that man?
You don’t know how you’re expected to dance with or entertain anyone else the rest of the night. Not after Astarion. Not after you had met perfection. You spot your father, head bowed and distracted in conversation with a short, greasy man.
You sneak out of a large glass-paned door into the garden. The roses out front were just a preview of the true beauty hiding here. Blooms of every size and color swirl together. You follow the well-maintained paths, entranced, noting the flowers you recognize and staring occasionally at a flower you’ve only seen drawn in books.
You’ve wandered quite a ways from the party when your ears pick up a quiet rustling, compelling you to investigate. Your curious nature had always been a curse: it had gotten you chastised by tutors when you read books that were not meant for a young lady’s eyes, and had earned your father’s ire when he discovered you sneaking in to watch and learn from your brother's sword fighting lessons.
In this moment, your inquisitive spirit wins out again, and your feet move, almost of their own accord, in the direction of the sound. You hear it again. It sounds like a person, or perhaps… was that a moan?
You find yourself in a secluded area of the garden and debate whether you should turn back for fear of intruding on a couple’s private moment. As you turn to leave, you freeze, eyes catching the glimmer of pale silver hair in the moonlight.
Your heart sinks to your chest. Of course. Astarion is so beautiful it only makes sense that he would have lovers clawing the doors down for just a moment with him. In retrospect, it seems rather cruel of him to praise you as the highlight of his night when he was leaving you to meet with another woman.
Unable to look away, you see Astarion holding a beautiful woman in his arms, dipping her just as he had dipped you only a short while ago. But this time, he’s closed the gap and his lips are pressed against her, kissing her neck. Her eyes are closed in what you assume to be ecstasy.
And all you had gotten was a kiss over a gloved hand. An angry, jealous wave flares within you and you have to take a deep breath to calm yourself. The last thing you need is to reveal your hiding spot and make even more of a fool of yourself tonight than you apparently already have.
You’re hidden out of their sight, positioning yourself strategically behind a bush. Not that they would even notice you with how enraptured they are with one another right now. You don’t know why you’re even staying. Perhaps there’s some masochistic part of you that wants you to remember this hurt, remember that this is why you don’t hope, that marriage born from love was a lie that only fools believe.
You watch, ignoring the emotions boiling inside you and the gut wrenching pain that makes you feel as if you’ve been stabbed. Only… the more you watch, the less Astarion seems to be kissing her neck and the more he seems to be sucking at it?
Astarion parts from the woman and when he tilts his head up, the moonlight glints against the dark rivulets of blood running down his chin, his hand reaching up to wipe it clean.
You can’t help the shocked inhale that manages to escape you and you see Astarion’s eyes open and whip over to your hiding spot. You had questioned if his eyes were red before, but you’re sure now as they practically grow crimson in the darkness.
Your mind is reeling, you need to get out of there. You aren’t even entirely sure how you got to this part of the garden, but you rush back toward the direction of the manor as fast as you can on your trippy, heeled shoes, doing your best to only stumble minimally on your flowing skirts.
There’s no way it can be true, but you’re certain Astarion had been drinking that woman’s blood. You had heard the myths and legends about vampires, but it seemed impossible for the creature to exist in real life. Vampires were just scary monsters used to keep children from roaming in the dark, weren’t they?
Suddenly, everything clicks. Astarion’s unbelievable beauty was nothing but a farce, a trait evolved by a predator to draw you in. And of course, you had fallen for it like the silly little girl you were. A few minutes ago, you would have been willing to split yourself open for him to devour. He could have offered you the knife and you would have gladly let yourself bleed for his affections.
Now, your heartbeat pounds in your ears, so loud you can’t tell if you’re hearing the thud of your own heart or of Astarion’s footsteps chasing after you. You think back to the woman. Did he mean to kill her? Did he mean to kill you, too, now that you had caught him?
The doors to the manor are finally in sight when you brave a peak over your shoulder. Sure enough, Astarion is rounding the final curve of the garden as you slip through the glass-paned doors.
You force yourself to focus, to think. You can’t help wondering if this is how a rabbit feels when it’s being hunted. How it must know that its very survival depends on its ability to think quickly and get away.
Attempting to disguise yourself in the dancing crowd, you wind artfully between different partners and move in confusing, zig-zagging patterns so Astarion cannot follow you. But, you keep catching glimpses of white hair out of the corner of your eye, Astarion never falling too far behind.
Your new dance partner is twirling you to the next person when you see the vampire’s red eyes over their shoulder. As he stares at you with a barely stifled rage, you can’t see anything but the red that was dripping from his chin a few minutes ago and it sends a new wave of urgency through your veins.
Your head whips around and loosens a few pins from your intricate hairdo. The strands fall in your eyes as you frantically scan the crowd for an escape, or at the very least, your father. His disappointment and rage at your lack of a marriage prospect tonight is certainly preferable to the death you are certain you will face if Astarion manages to catch you.
When you look up, there’s a silver mirror in front of you. You look rattled and a bit disheveled, but Astarion is nowhere in sight behind you. Finally, you allow yourself to let out the breath you’ve been holding, shoulders dropping in relief.
A cold hand curls heavily around your shoulder, sending goosebumps skittering across your skin and you look up into Astarion’s angry eyes which shine a brilliant ruby red. Your mind reels and you glance between him and the mirror a couple times because he is standing right next to you but is noticeably absent from the mirror’s reflection. You hate yourself for making such a stupid mistake, for forgetting the rules about vampires, the monsters who didn’t have a reflection.
“Come with me,” Astarion’s voice is cold, so opposite of the sweet tone he used earlier while you danced. He uses his grip on your shoulder to start pulling you away from the crowd. To kill you without making a scene.
“No,” you cry out and try to pull away from him but his fingers dig into your collarbone even harder and it starts to hurt. He’s supernaturally strong as he drags you beside him further and further away from the dancing crowd, further and further away from any hope of salvation.
You should let out a scream, alert someone, do something. It’s not in your nature to go down without a fight.
“Stay quiet if you wish to live through the night,” Astarion hisses against the shell of your ear, like he could tell what you were thinking. You hate that his voice still sends a warm tingle down your spine.
Astarion pulls you around a corner to some sort of secluded closet where he flings open the door and pushes you inside. He’s got you crowded against the wall, his forearm angled so it’s pressing against your windpipe. He isn’t pushing hard enough to restrict your airflow, but his arm is a heavy reminder that he could if he wanted to. A reminder of the threat of death looming over you.
“Whatever you think you saw, you didn’t,” Astarion tries to rationalize with you, his eyes hard and unwavering as they stare into your own. Like if he says the words with enough conviction, he might just convince you.
“You’re going through a lot of trouble if I, in fact, didn’t see anything,” you point out, which is maybe not the smartest argument to make in the face of certain death. You always had a bad habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. To keep yourself from making this bad situation even worse, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep quiet.
“Impetuous woman. I was trying to hel- I mean…” Astarion grits his teeth in frustration. He seems to be recalculating in his head, figuring out what to do with you. “I had hoped to settle this civilly.”
Even though you feel like you’re growing to throw up, you close your eyes and force yourself to act nonchalant as you speak, “If you’re going to kill me, I’d prefer it if you didn’t drag it out unnecessarily.”
Your eyes are still closed, but you feel Astarion’s forearm drop away from where it was pressed against your throat, though his body still keeps you pinned tightly against the wall. This is possibly the closest you’ve ever been to a man and a dark part of your mind enjoys how his thigh is pressed against your own, only a few layers of fabric separating you from his pale skin.
You bite a little harder at your cheek to focus your thoughts and are overwhelmed by the metallic tang of blood on your tongue. When you open your eyes, Astarion is staring at you like a man possessed, his eyes glued to your lips, pupils blown so wide his eyes appear black.
Oh, right. Blood and a vampire are not a good mix if you hope to stay alive. You try to quickly swallow the blood down, as if Astarion hadn’t already noticed it. He lets out a sinful noise, something between a chuckle and a groan.
“I’m not going to kill you, darling,” his voice is deep and hungry as he carefully traces one finger along the pulse point in your neck. “Why would I kill you when I can keep you all to myself?”
You blanch at his words, seeing your future laid out in front of you. Chained up in the dungeon as a vampire’s slave. Kept alive, but barely, a source of constant food for a greedy monster. For a moment, it almost makes you laugh to think that of course this dramatic manor would have a gaudy dungeon.
“You’re a monster,” you say to Astarion, an angry sneer across your face.
“Oh, don’t act stupid, pet,” Astarion scoffs at you, his hand now moving up to tuck the loose piece of hair behind your ear and his cheek brushes against yours as he leans in impossibly closer to whisper. “It’s unbecoming of you to pretend to be something we both know you aren’t.”
He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek as he pulls away from you and your mind is in such turmoil, you can’t even revel in the feeling of his lips finally pressing against your skin.
“Tell me, what am I really? A monster, yes, but what kind?” His voice is so smooth and silky as he taunts you, like a spider spinning you into its web. The time for escape has passed.
“A vampire,” you whimper out, the emotions finally catching up to you. You think again of the woman in the garden. “Oh god, that woman. Did you kill her?”
“Hardly,” Astarion replies, with a roll of his eyes. “And I can assure you, she was a very willing, very well compensated participant. The worst she’ll have is a bit of a headache tomorrow morning from the blood loss.”
He didn’t kill her? That doesn’t make any sense.
“For the record,” Astarion speaks again, interrupting your train of thought. “I have no qualms about killing people, but it’s such a hassle having to figure out what to do with all those dead bodies. I’ve found it’s much easier to get blood if you maintain a few snacks for the occasional top up.”
You’re still staring at Astarion, trying to understand how the man you met earlier tonight could be the same man pressing you to the wall and threatening you - when the door handle starts to rattle and turn. Astarion moves impossibly quick as he tilts your chin up and presses his lips to your neck, in the perfect imitation of a lover’s embrace. You can’t help the panicked noise that escapes you when you feel a sharp fang prick against your skin. It reminds you of the thorns of a rose. You know that this is Astarion telling you to play your part if you still want to stay alive.
The intruder clears their throat and Astarion parts from you with an exasperated sigh, as if he’s just been pulled away from a delicious feast.
“We’re busy,” he shoots over his shoulder, but when he turns his head, you can clearly see the outline of your father standing in the doorway, with the greasy man that he was talking to earlier beside him. A shock of recognition flashes in your fathers eyes before the hard mask of anger settles in.
“Lord Ancunin,” your father speaks, and you recognize the tempered fury that’s flowing in his words, threatening to erupt any second. The carriage ride home with him tonight was going to be unbearable if you managed to make it out of this. “Might I ask what you’re doing in this closet with my daughter?”
Astarion sighs again and finally, finally steps away from you, though you can see the reluctance he feigns in an attempt to keep up the act. Simply two lovers caught together at an inopportune moment.
Now that you have your own space, you feel like you can finally take a deep breath. You hadn’t realized how Astarion’s heady scent of bergamot and rosemary had been clouding your senses. Still, deep in your mind, there’s a small, shameful part of you that misses how the hard line of his body felt pressed against you.
“You had said she was a virgin!” The short man next to your father yells, his face an ugly, tomato red.
“She is,” your father swiftly attempts to placate the man. “She’ll still make a good wife, I promise.”
“The deal’s off, I don’t want damaged goods,” the greasy man turns swiftly on his heel and storms away. So, that’s what your father had been up to all night, scheming to sell you off by any means necessary.
When your father faces you and Astarion again, his eyes are flaming with anger. This night was not going to end well for you even if you did manage to escape. Astarion shifts a half-step in front of you.
“Lord Ancunin,” your father hisses again. You can tell it’s taking everything in him to keep his words polite and befitting of his station. You know that what he really wants is to relentlessly hurl insults at Astarion until he tires himself out. “I trust you don’t make it a habit of tricking naive young girls into following you into dark closets?”
“Your daughter, a young woman,” Astarion emphasizes the word. You feel a bit vindicated by this as you had been fighting your whole life for your father to see you as something other than a foolish child. “Is capable of making her own decisions and dealing with the consequences of those choices.”
The second part of his sentence was directed at you. You chose to follow him out into the gardens, to go where you were unwelcome, and you would be expected to accept your upcoming fate with grace. Your heart twists again and you feel hatred for Astarion blooming deep within you. You had not imagined the beautiful man that you danced with would be capable of such cruelty.
“I will not allow this insult on my family’s honor!” Your father’s voice continues to rise. “If the next words out of your mouth are not asking me for my daughter’s hand in marriage, then you will have made a very powerful enemy.”
“Powerful enemy,” Astarion laughs at that and turns to you as if you’re in on the joke. It is rather funny that your father thinks himself anywhere near the same standing as Astarion, but you’re having a hard time finding the energy within yourself to laugh at the moment.
“Oh, this is all going wonderfully according to plan,” Astarion claps his hands together in glee, face painted with a devilish grin. You think you catch the light glinting off one of his fangs in the dark closet. “For I had hoped to come speak with you about marrying your daughter. It seems you’ve already beaten me to the point.”
Your breath catches in your throat as the puzzle finally fits together. So, this was Astarion’s new plan. Keeping you as a slave must be too boring in his eyes, the vampire lord who wants for nothing, who has people falling at his feet for the chance to drink some of their blood. No, Astarion plans for you to keep his secret by controlling you. And everyone knows that the best way to control a woman is to marry her.
You feel like your soul is slipping out of your body. Nearly an hour ago, you would have been weeping with joy to be married to Astarion. Now, it just feels like an extended death sentence.
Astarion’s fingers brush against your arm, pulling your attention back to him, though you can’t bear to look him in his eyes.
“Dearest, would you like to go out for another dance? Or perhaps I can call someone to escort you to a room for the night?”
You nearly scoff out loud at the false choice. Both options presented by him, neither of which you really want to do. Either you go out on the dance floor and perform the act of a happy, loving couple or you’re sent off with one of his servants to be kept under guard. But, the chance of escape does seem higher if Astarion isn’t constantly by your side.
“A room, please,” you manage to choke out and Astarion gives you a polite nod. He grabs someone’s attention in the hallway and another beautiful woman with long, dark hair arrives to lead you to a room. Why is it that Astarion seems to only be surrounded by beautiful people?
Astarion’s gaze follows you until you round a corner and are finally out of his sight. You don’t doubt that he will be returning to the party to flirt and dance and drink blood while you are caged in a room like an animal. There’s an spiteful, jealous part of you that threatens to lash out. You’re jealous of his freedom, you remind yourself. You’re certainly not jealous of the people who get to dance with him the rest of the night.
You keep following after the dark-haired woman, but you can feel your father close at your heels. You curse the world for not just letting you mope in peace and quiet. Why does everything have to end in a fight with your father? Although he hates you, thinks of you as nothing but a burden, you know he is one of your last hopes of getting out of here.
When you’re finally deposited into a bedroom, you turn to him, pleading. “Father, please don’t make me marry him. He’s not a good man, he’s not who he appears to be.”
“No,” your father cuts back. “That is exactly what you will do. You have brought shame to this family. What would your mother think if she knew you were galavanting around like some common whore?”
You stare down at the beautiful embroidery on your dress and try to hold back the tears. Why did you expect this to end any differently? It never does when it comes to your father. And he always does love to bring up how much shame your mother would feel about you if she were still alive. You stay silent, waiting for this to be over, waiting to be left alone.
“You’re lucky” he continues, “somehow this is still better than you deserve. You will have a title and wealth. But do not think I will ever forgive you for this transgression. You will no longer be a stain upon this family.”
With a stern nod, he slams the door shut behind him, leaving you in an eerie silence. You aren’t surprised your father thinks you are undeserving of a title and wealth, though those are of little concern to you right now. You’d rather not be married, not expected to be subservient to some man. And worst of all, what you’d really rather have back is the person you thought Astarion was earlier in the night, the person you thought you might be able to love.
You reach for the doorknob but it has predictably been locked when you test it.
Leaning against the hard wood of the door, you sink to your knees. You can feel the tears burning at your eyes as you pick at the beading on your beautiful gown. How horrible this night had turned out. The tears start with a whimper against the wooden slats of the door and soon you’re weeping, crumpled into a sobbing pile of your skirts. Between hiccuping cries, you mourn the loss of your family, the loss of your life. From now on, you are cursed to be the bride of a monster. A bird trapped in a gilded cage being constantly circled by a very hungry cat.
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Notes: Hehe and that's chapter 1! Get ready for a whole lot of angst, yearning, and misunderstanding as these emotionally repressed weirdos try to navigate their feelings for one another in their new marriage. This is the first fic I've ever actually posted so I'm super nervous, but I have a whole 10-part plan set up for this fic because the Astarion brainrot is real. It's almost like… he's a tadpole that's wormed it's way into my brain…
For reference, I tend to picture everything as regency era since that is my favorite, but I didn't specify because I know everyone has their own favorite time periods they love to imagine!
Hugest shoutout ever to my amazing friend who helped me edit and let me bounce ideas off her. She was the hugest help imaginable and has been subjected to my constant ramblings about my ideas for this fic. Check out her wonderful writing on ao3 at AliensNSuch!
Chapter 2 will be posted next Sunday, 12/24.
#astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion bg3#x reader#reader insert#bg3 fanfiction#til death do us part
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✉ || 𝐀𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝
Pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Summary | Aemond and his way of showing you his love through gifts. And one time where you showed your love back to him ๋࣭ ⭑
Warnings & Suggestions | No warnings at all, Soft!Aemond, Fluff, Happy Marriage, No physical description of reader
Notes | Another sweet and soft fluff to rot your tooth.
A necklace of gold, each pendant is either amethyst or sapphire, alternating and complimenting each other at the same time. They are glimmering, beautiful and daring-
“Do you like it?” you looked up to him, realized that you have been staring at the necklace far too long, a sentence barely formed in your thought “It's…… you shouldn't have, it's too-” It's unduly, especially for the first courting between you and the prince. “It'd match you well, my lady.” Worry runs across your body until his hands touch your hair, placing a necklace on your neck. Now, you are blushing hard “Thank you, my prince.”
Moons have passed and soon enough, you will wed your future husband in the holy place of Grand Sept. You find it hard to sleep, thinking of every little things. Aemond has been kind to you ever since the first courting, showering you with gifts of the greatest value. The jewelry hanging on your dressing table is a proof of it. You couldn't help but worry that all this gesture would disappear the second you married him.
As you fell into a deep sleep, you dreamed of dragons. You recognize Vhagar from the large size and the mighty face. Beside Vhagar was an ivory dragon of a smaller size, yet the air around that beautiful dragon brightened everything. There was gold tracing around. You've never read or seen any dragons like this in real life. The two creatures are flying together through the highest sky, sounds of roaring and wings clapping wake you up to the early morning. You think of the dream as you prepare for the day. Once you are done, you quickly make your way to Aemond and tell him of the dream, how captivating it is that you wished to be stuck there for eternity.
On the wedding night, while you wait for your husband patiently. He comes in and takes you to a mysterious chest with dragons carved on the surface. You gasped at the sight of the creamy-and-gold dragon egg. It was stoned and old, yet the scales were exactly how you saw in your dream. “How did you get this?” your fingers traced the egg's scales, just like the dream. “A merchant sold me this in a great deal, it was stolen and stoned but it's still beautiful.” his hands reach your waist to hold you tight. “Such a coincidence it is, must have been a good sign for our marriage” you smile at his thoughtfulness, “Thank you, my husband.”
As the wedding passed, your marriage has turned into everything you have dreamed of. You and your husband have spent time together more freely. You told him about your interests, especially flowers, how pleasant you felt when you looked at them or how proud it is to plant and water them as they grew and bloom. It's like all your worries being blown away by the soft wind. But he doesn't seem as interested in it, so you try to keep it to yourself.
Failed, you keep mentioning them, how you heard there was a talking tree and even a talking bird in the Summer Isles, how there were the most exotic roses anyone could find in the maze of Highgarden, how you wanted to see all of them in person or at least read more about them. It keeps going and you thought you had annoyed him until your name day.
He brings you a book of plants, flowers and trees ranging from the most common to the rarest. It tells all about their origins, symbolism and their own unique story. It was heavy and thick, the cover was carved in the shape of flowers. “I have Maester Orwyle found this for you, one of the oldest books in the Citadel, it was not an easy process, sweet wife of mine.” You couldn't believe he could get this for you. “Though this would not be the only gift from me.” your husband's words confused you a bit until you saw the look he gave you. “Thank you, Aemond.”
What a blessing it has been. Your marriage is fortunate to be full of love. Your husband did his duty as well as he cared deeply for you. You wore the jewelry he gave you, the silks imported from the furthest lands, the book in your hand for your name day. You were spoiled rotten and an idea crossed your mind.
He would've loved it, it would've been amazing. You keep thinking about it. This week, you've been distancing yourself from Aemond as you prepare the gift for him.
You requested a private supper with only your husband and you. He didn't question at first, but he was obviously eager to know why you suddenly wanted to have a private meal. When he arrives, you keep smiling at him, blushing at his words and it all ends when he rises. “Why a private supper?” You rise after him. “I just wanted a quiet time between us, that's all.” It is not a good lie and he doesn't seem convinced. “Tell me.” his tone is clear that whatever it is that you try to hide, you have to stop. “Fine” you groaned and took his hand as you lead your husband to the gift.
“I am not sure if you would like it but I wanted to let you know that I love you too. And you did so well, trying to show it to me.” You said to him as you brought out the gift. He instantly knew what it was and, undeniably, he softly smiled.
A Longsword made of Dragonglass, sharp and light. On the hilt was a gemstone of Sapphire, to match his left-eye. All was jet black but at the heart of the sword was brightened with blue stone. It was simple, perfectly made just for him and it meant everything.
“Do you like it?” he looked up to you. You look like an angel from this view. He nodded, finding it hard to express himself in words. You immediately hug him, “Be careful!” He shouted as the sword still lays on him. You didn't seem to care though, he simply accepted your warm embrace. What has he done to deserve you? To have someone beside him who cares this much. There are many moments in which he knew he had to protect you, but in this second, he vowed he would burn everything down if anyone dared to touch you and he would go across the known world just to see your smile. “Thank you, my love.”
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images' credits ๋࣭ ⭑
Casket of jewels on a table principally of German Origin - Pieter Gerritsz. van Roestraten
The Marquise de Pezay, and the Marquise de Rougé with Her Sons Alexis and Adrien - Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun
Pronk Still Life with Holbein Bowl, Nautilus Cup, Glass Goblet and Fruit Dish - Willem Kalf
#aemond targaryen#aemond x you#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd aemond#house of the dragon aemond#aemond x reader#aemond fluff#aemond fic#aemond one eye#prince aemond#aemond fanfiction#aemond x fem!reader
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can u write bully ☺️
“𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧”:
pairing: bully! kim taehyung x stalker-ish f! reader
genre: strangers to ??? || smut || non-idol au
summary: taehyung was probably the prettiest man you knew, though you were a little too shy to approach him first. however, it seems you may have caught taehyung’s eye, and his obsession with you may rival your own for him.
word count: 3k
tags/ warnings: self-depreciation, jealousy, stalker behavior, humiliation but reader kinda has a humiliation kink so it’s fine, kind of tsundere taehyung, dom! taehyung, sub! reader, sir kink, spitting in mouth, dub-con, exhibitionalism, dacryphilia, unprotected sex (this is fiction don’t be stupid), dumbification/ degradation manhandling, creampie, cum play, briefly mentioned nipple play, they do other stuff in public that i would gauge my eyes out if i ever saw, luckily this isn’t real
notes: not so much bully, more mean dom taehyung who won’t admit he likes our dear reader but he’s also kind of an ass. if anyone you like treats you like this then run please :’)
request rules can be found here || my masterlist
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Kim Taehyung was the prettiest man you knew.
You’d been working at the quaint little coffee shop for a couple of years, Taehyung joining only months after you had. Many shifts shared together, evenings spent in each other’s silent company before one of you would lock up for the night.
Taehyung was perfect. A god amongst humans. Sculpted by the heavens’ best artist to make sure that every crevice of his body was beyond ordinary human beauty. He was a vibrant rose that had bloomed on a dead bush. A fleck of vibrant paint on an otherwise white canvas.
You think Taehyung was more the moon rather than the sun, a little too ominous, and all too mysterious for him to be the sun. His aura more the night sky than the day where grey clouds could cover his beauty, where little specks of stardust surround him like a halo wherever he walks.
Your favorite thing about Taehyung was his hands. How elegant they were. How they held the handle of a mug as he brewed a coffee, how his lithe fingers sweep his bangs from his eyes as he steams milk; how those same pretty fingers wrap around your throat when he gets mad. Or his hot touch after his hand collides with your cheek. Painting them to match the pink evening sky.
It had started out as an innocent crush. The new barista who had the attention of man and woman alike, both customer and employee of the cafe.
It had started with you stealing short glances in his direction. Watching as he wiped down tables, and smiled at girls whose figures were better than your own. Smiles that you wished were pointed in your direction. But you suppose pretty men went for pretty people, and maybe you just weren’t perfect enough for Taehyung.
That was okay, though. Because you were more content watching him.
Shy glances had morphed into daydreams. Daydreams fueled by longing, your eyes following his every move as he danced around the cafe, so in tune with his body that he never bumped into a table. Not like you, a little clumsy and too careless. Never elegant, never perfect.
Daydreams moulded into curiosity. Where does he live? Go to school? His friends? You wanted to know it all. Your free afternoons were spent slipping in and out of shadows, making sure that Taehyung had gotten home safely, wondering why a few too many girls touched over his shoulders, delicate fingers trailing down his chest when he’d meet them at pc cafes before he’d walk to campus for his evening lectures. Why it always seemed to be a polite smile in their direction, never anything else.
He was a good man, never leading anyone on. Genuine in his conversation, interest in someone else’s life never fake.
You’d gotten good at knowing his schedule. Your pitiful little heart pattering against your rib cage when your cafe’s new rota would be hung up on the wall; evenings now spent together between making coffee and wiping tables. Though you never dared utter a word to him, happier being a name to face rather than an acquaintance where you’d have to keep up conversation. How were you meant to think when all you could think about was him?
Over time you had started to get a little careless, peeking through gaps in doors and stumbling into little shops behind him before his long legs would pull him away from you. Figure morphing into the darkness of an alleyway, a new way home that you hadn’t seen him take before.
“What do you want?” Taehyung says, eyes still trained on his phone as he sits at the dingy little table in the cafe’s break-room, and you swallow thickly. His deep voice shaking your heart.
You say nothing, thinking there was no way he could talking to you. Maybe someone on his phone; his tone nothing like the angelic Taehyung that you’d known, watched for months now.
“I asked what you wanted” he drops his phone to the table, gaze turning towards the door where you hide.
You take a look behind you, stumbling forwards when the door is yanked open, your cheeks smacking against a hard chest.
Your breath hitches, eyes squeezing shut momentarily as you feel Taehyung’s chest rumble, was he laughing at you?
“I asked—” he pushes your head from his chest, causing you to stumble backwards, “—what the fuck you wanted” he sneers.
You peer up at him through your lashes, eyes wide as your mouth falls open. “Coffee” you squeak, “Do you want coffee?”
He tilts his head, corner of his lips tugging up into an unamused smile, “Fuck off” he grabs the door before slamming it closed.
You let out a shuddering breath, hand coming to press over your heart.
Maybe he was having a bad day.
You didn’t let that ruin your mood, because for the first time since meeting him; you just had a conversation with Kim Taehyung.
Your lips curl up into a smile, small skip in your step as wander back out front of the cafe to help your friend serve a few more customers.
Your second mistake, was the day you and Taehyung were left in the cafe alone.
The sun had slipped behind a few of the high rise buildings, the sky coated in an orangey hue. The smell of freshly brewed coffee permeating the air.
The small cafe was empty par from a few high school kids who had homework to catch up on, and not enough caffeine to aide them in overdue assignments.
“I’m going on break” Taehyung had called over to you, waving you off when you opened your mouth to ask why.
You shut it, simply nodding. If he needed rest then who were you to stop him?
You stare at the door, backs of your legs starting to ache as you lean on the counter, hoping that maybe someone would come and occupy you, even if it were only for a few minutes.
“Y/n!”
And that had you scrambling to the break room, eyes wide with worry as you teeter to a stop before him.
“Is something the matter?” you stare down at Taehyung, who only hums in reply.
“Make me a drink”
“Oh, okay” you nod, biting your bottom lip as you scamper back to the front where you get started on his coffee.
You’d seen him order a flat white while out with friends on more than a few occasions, so you guess he must like those.
“What’s this?” he peers into the cup.
“A flat white” you whisper, fingers fiddling with the pocket of your apron.
He crooks two fingers, motioning for you to bend down to his level. You do so, eyebrows furrowing a little in confusion.
You think you hear it before you feel it, his palm coming in harsh contact with you right cheek.
Tears gather on your waterline, prickly, needle like pain dusting your cheek in red. You have no time to recover before Taehyung grabs your face, nails digging into each cheek as he pulls your face closer to his own.
“You little freak, you really have been following me around, haven’t you?” he laughs, though he didn’t seem all that amused, “I only drink black coffee”
You shake your head, wincing when he digs his finger into your skin harder. And you may have been worried about bleeding if you weren’t so scared of what words were to fall off his tongue like venom.
“Fucking liar” he spits, shoving your face away, quick, like your touch had burnt him.
You take a few steps back, fingers skimming across your cheeks as you stare down at him.
“On your knees” he picks his phone up.
“Huh?” you manage to squeak.
“Are you stupid?”
You shake your head, eyes flitting between his own. Wondering if maybe he was just trying to play a mean joke on you.
“On your knees then”
You do so, dropping to your knees, “Come closer” he motions with his head.
You go to push yourself to stand, only for Taehyung to push at your chest with his foot, “pets crawl”
You nod, head hanging low as your hands touch the floor, humiliated as you sit on your heels beside Taehyung’s chair.
He grabs the back of your hair, yanking your head up so your looking at him. “Open”
Your mouth falls open.
Taehyung picks up the scalding cup of coffee, sadistic smile tugging at his lips as he pours the hot liquid into your mouth, uncaring as it spills over your uniform, staining your clothes; streaking your skin red.
You splutter, pulling away from his tight hold on you, coughing as you wipe around your mouth. Pearly tears mingling with the coffee on your face as you heave a large breath.
“What do we say when sir gives you something?” he asks, condescending.
You snivel, peering up at Taehyung through wet lashes, he frowns down at you. “What do we fucking say?”
“Thank you” you hiccup.
“Thank you, what?”
“Thank you, sir”
“Good girl” he turns back to his phone.
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
“Stop squirming” Taehyung grunts, tugging your hair so your head lays on his thigh.
You think your knees must red with how long you’d been kneeling on the wooden floor, though you think your cheeks must be 10 shades darker as you stay kneeled beside Taehyung as he works on an assignment in the library.
And you can only thank your lucky stars you and Taehyung were the only two sat so far back in the corner where no one could stumble across the two of you. The humiliation of being found, sat at Taehyung’s feet like some sort of pet, sending a lick of arousal down your spine to your pulsating cunt.
Goosebumps prickle at your skin when he cards his fingers through your hair, your arms twitching where you have them held behind your back; per Taehyung’s request.
You feel him tug your head towards his crotch, your lips skimming the fabric of his sweats, grey cotton doing nothing to hide what he has to offer underneath. You grab onto his thigh, delicate fingers digging into the muscle as he pushes your head so your nose brushes over his steadily growing erection.
“What would you do if I made you suck my cock right now?” he asks, humming when your lick your lips. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Anything to please me, right?”
You nod, thighs clenching at the thought of his thick cock in your mouth, you wonder what he would sound like, how rough he’d make you take it. You feel a dribble of arousal leak into your cotton panties, slick fabric brushing against your clit as you squirm in place.
A pitiful whine tumbling from your lips when Taehyung shoves your head away from his crotch.
“Fucking disgusting” he utters, “Do you think you deserve my cock after everything you’ve done? Stupid girl, following me home, watching me and friends. You’re fucking gross, you know that?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry” tears dribble down your cheeks.
And Taehyung feels his cock twitch at the sight of your blotchy face.
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
The first time Taehyung takes you to his apartment, you feel your heart swell. How kind he must be if he were to let you have a look into his private life, paintings you assume to be his own hung on the walls, pictures with his parents and vinyl records displayed in book cases from artists you had never heard of.
“On the floor, pet” he reminds you after you’d slipped your shoes from your feet.
You follow, rewarded with a gentle smile from Taehyung, the pretty one he seems to give everyone else but you, until you’re on you’re knees, sat waiting for his next command as you watch him wander into the kitchen. Bag of take-out placed on the table as he takes a seat.
You scamper after him, palms growing redder as you crawl. Making sure to sit beside his chair.
He places a box of chicken in front of you, saying nothing as he rummages through his own dinner.
You make no move to eat, not at all hungry as you’d stolen a few too many sweets from cafe earlier during your shift.
“Eat” Taehyung tells you, nudging your thigh with his socked foot.
“Not hungry” you whisper, Taehyung grunting at that.
“Should still eat something” he bends down, picking up a piece of chicken, “open”
You do as told, watching Taehyung’s face as he feeds you. Hand on your jaw as you chew, thumb tugging your mouth open after you swallow.
“Manners, doll”
“Thank you, sir” you muffle around his fingers as he shoves them a little further into your mouth.
You find yourself sat by Taehyung’s feet a lot after that day.
While he works on assignments. While you work on assignments. While he plays video games, he chucks a cushion in the floor for you to sit on. While he cooks in the kitchen, the simple term “open” seeming to be his favorite.
Open. His fingers are in your mouth. Seeing how far they’ll go before you gag. Humming when you looking up at him through your lashes. Bonus points if you start to cry.
Open. And then there’s food in your mouth. Chewing under his watchful eye before he makes you eat more. Cocky little smirk on his face when you push his hand away. Only to be thrown over his thighs so he can spank your ass red raw for refusing him.
Open. He spits in your mouth, telling you to swallow before giving you a smile as your reward. Meanly tugging at your puffy nipples from where he’d played with them earlier on.
Open. And your mouthing at his cock, some days hard, maybe flaccid but you feel it grow under your lips as he presses your face into his crotch. Never letting you touch, never letting you taste. Only teasing you with what you could have his Taehyung was a little kinder and didn’t thrive off the desperation in your eyes when he makes you kiss his aching erection through his pants.
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
Taehyung watches as you smile at a customer, a boy your age he supposes, if the pile of books were any indication that he was also a college student. Cheeks round and youthful in a way Taehyung grew out of in his mid teens.
His jaw tightens when that same boy leans against the counter, the cafe an hour from closing; not many people on the streets as the moon makes its appearance. The three of you the only ones left in the coffee shop.
Taehyung wonders if you like the attention. You must do, sweet little smile being directed at a puny college boy that looked like he didn’t know how to please a woman. He looked as though he needed a true woman to please him, to step on his pathetic little cock for him to cum. If only he knew you couldn’t give him that, too reliant on Taehyung for your own pleasure, letting him control you like his own little puppet, your pleasure now his.
He’s sure if he’d finally get his hands on you, all you’d know was his name. But he supposes that wouldn’t be too hard. Your pretty little head always seemed to be filled with thoughts of him.
He wasn’t stupid, far from it. You weren’t all that secret with your cute little crush either. Obvious with your steady growing obsession with him and Taehyung couldn't get enough of it. So much power over someone so consumed with his entire being.
But he liked you that way. He liked the way you listened, not questioning him when he tells you to do something. Not like a few other girls he’d tried to get with, they all held themselves too high to let him humiliate them a little. Too consumed with themselves to heed to his every demand.
But you. A little stupid, but Taehyung couldn’t get enough. Addicted to the way you followed him, a cute little puppy that he’s just starting to have fun with. A cute little puppy who would do anything for his validation and love.
His fingers tap against the table. Your new little admirer having no shame as he tries to get a peek up your skirt as you reach for one of the mugs on the top shelf.
“Y/n” Taehyung drawls, covering his smile with his hand when your attention is fully on him. No longer bothered with the college boy, who seems to wander off to a table as you ignore his blatant attempts at flirting with you.
“Yes?” you ask from behind the counter.
“Coffee”
You scamper off into the back room, Taehyung not bothered with what you were doing, just as long as you weren’t entertaining any one else.
He watches the boy peer up from his phone every so often, gaze trailing after you as you start making Taehyung his drink.
“What’s this?” he motions to the mug when you gently place it on the table, little yellow stars painted over a deep purple sky.
“I bought you a different mug, I thought it was prettier than the cafe’s ones” you rock back and forth, not daring to look at Taehyung’s reaction. Only hoping he liked it, because you thought of him when you’d seen it in the shop window.
“Is that so?” he muses, “Go back now” he motions towards the counter.
You nod, “okay”
Your little college admirer stays until closing, never seeming to work up the courage to ask for your number. That, or he catches Taehyung’s glare each time he dared open his mouth to talk to you.
“Did you like it?” Taehyung stalks towards the counter, eyes narrowing at you as you wipe down one last mug of the day before you close up the shop.
“Pardon?” you blink up at Taehyung, something about the innocent look on your face pissing him off.
“Did you enjoy whoring yourself out to some sad little college boy?” he sneers and you carefully hang the mug back up.
“I wasn’t—“ you shut your mouth at the look on Taehyung’s face. His eyebrows narrowed, gaze scrutinizing you.
His grip is harsh as he grabs your wrists, your hip slamming into the table as he grabs under your arms, lifting you to his side of the counter.
You let out a small squeak, unsteady as he drops you on your feet. Uncaring as he spins you around, pushing you to bend over the counter by your shoulders.
You turn your head to look at Taehyung, a choked groan slipping off your tongue when he pushes your head to the table, cool marble numbing your cheek as you feel him push his pelvis against your ass.
You feel his steadily growing erection rub against your covered core, slick gathering up at your entrance as you start to fantasize what he’ll do now that he’s got you where he wants.
You stay bent over the counter when he flips your work skirt up over your ass, cute pink panties darkened where your arousal seeps into the fabric.
Taehyung run a finger over your covered slit, rubbing over your clit as more slick dribbles out of your hole.
“Fucking soaked. All for me, yeah? You disgusting little girl”
“Please, Taehyung” you whine, thighs clenching around his hand as he continues to rub your weeping pussy over your panties.
“What did you call me?” he sneers, pulling your underwear between your ass cheeks. Delicious friction against your clit sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
You expect the slap when it comes, ambrosian pain prickling up your spine, Taehyung’s hand painted red on your skin as he brings his hand down for another harsh slap to your right ass cheek.
“Sorry, sir” you whimper, saline tears cascading down your cheeks like little pearls.
Taehyung unbuttons his work pants, pulling them down along with his boxers until they pool around his ankles. He pushes your panties to the side, running the head of his hard cock through your slit to gather your slick, hand running over his shaft to lube it up with your juices.
Your thighs clench as the head of his cock nudges your clit, Taehyung’s head tipping back as your thighs squeeze around his length.
He kicks your legs apart, hand flat on your back as he lines his cock up with your entrance.
Your mouth falls open as his thick cock head pushes into your entrance, leaving you no time to adjust to his length, he pushes all the way in before pulling back, so close to slipping out of you.
Taehyung’s eyes close, snapping his hips forwards so his thighs smack the back of your own.
A staccato of ‘ah ah ahs’ tumble out your mouth as he continues his onslaught of thrusts, starting to pick up the pace.
“You like that?” he grunts, “who do you belong to?”
His fingers dig into the meat of your hips, little crescent moons marked into your skin to match what hangs in the sky, your only witness as Taehyung fucks you like no one had ever before.
“You” you whimper, “only you”
“That’s my girl”
Taehyung pushes you up the counter, angle of his hips changing so his cock touches that little spot inside of you that causes stars to flicker behind your eye lids. Wet slap of Taehyung’s cock ramming into your sodden cunt borderline pornographic to match your moans.
Taehyung bends over your body, chest meeting your back as he rolls his hips. Rutting into your core as deep as he could go.
Your fingers hold onto the end of the counter, Taehyung’s thrusts so hard they start to push you up the cold surface.
“Open up, baby” he grunts, breath fanning against your ear. Your mouth falls open, whimper tumbling off your lips when he shoves two fingers into your mouth, “suck”
Your tongue dips between his fingers, sucking like you would his cock if he would let you. Your walls clenching around him at the thought of having his precum coat your tongue, how your lips would pull taught at his girth, cockhead nudging the back of your throat as you try to swallow him.
“You’re so fucking tight” he groans, feeling your walls pulsate around his length.
He pull his saliva slick fingers out your mouth, trailing down your body to flick your clit.
“Cum for me, doll” he grunts, cock twitching as your walls clench around his length. Your eyes squeezing shut as you tip over the edge, orgasm wracking through your body as your thighs shake, cum oozing from your hole, lewd squelch as Taehyung continues to snap his hips upwards.
Tears fall down your cheeks, Taehyung’s hand coming to cover your mouth as his thrusts become languid.
“Shut up, people outside might hear you. You stupid girl” he pulls your hair, lifting your head from the counter.
“Inside me. Please cum inside me” you cry, uncaring of the sounds that drip from your tongue, breath shuddery as Taehyung slams his cock as far into you as he can before he paints your walls white.
You feel his cum fill you, the grip you had on the counter loosening as Taehyung continues to thrusts into you, cock slowly softening.
“Too much. Too much” you cry, thighs twitching as his fingers continue to rub tight circles on your sensitive clit.
“Don’t care” he pushes in once more before pulling out.
Your muscles relax, flopping over the counter as Taehyung bends down behind you.
“Push my cum out” he pulls your lips apart, watching as your hole clenches around nothing.
He groans as his seed slips out of you, two of his fingers pushing it back into your sloppy cunt.
His fingers thrust into your hole, hand landing a slap to the back of your thigh when you go to close your legs.
“Good girl” he croons, pulling your panties over your soiled pussy. “open”
Your lips part, tongue rolling out of your mouth as Taehyung lathers it up with a mixture of both of your cum, content smile on his face as he pulls you off the counter, arm around your shoulder as he walks the both of you to the door, ready to close up for the night.
Uncaring of the cum that drips down your thighs in thick rivulets. At least you know you’re his.
#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts smut#bts angst#taehyung#taehyung smut#taehyung imagine#taehyung x reader#bts fic#bts x reader#bts yandere#bts au#bts requests#taehyung fic#taehyung x y/n#bts
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summertime—sweetness.
─┈ in which the cloud general of the xianzhou luofu finds peace in how you smile.
ㅤ─┈ jing yuan x gender neutral reader. a small drabble to kick start this blog!
❪⠀themes : fluff & romance!⠀❫
as the general of the xianzhou luofu and the most important man present in the ship, jing yuan has always been surrounded by people who were related to his work. yanqing, his young and dutiful retainer. fu xuan, master diviner of the divination commission. yukong, helm master of the sky—faring commission.
it isn’t uncommon to see jing yuan surrounded by extremely important people; asides, when he’s leaving work to find a good place to nap. the general of the xianzhou luofu is also a member of the seven arbiter general of the cloud knights and the six charioteers.
what was uncommon, though, was to see jing yuan be accompanied by a perfectly normal person that resided in the xianzhou luofu. commonfolk would clamor you once the general left your side to attend his duties, questioning why the ever so elusive and mysterious cloud general spend time with you.
though your answer— “he finds my presence enjoyable! we play chess often.” — would often leave them unsatisfied, only jing yuan would be able to answer that. perhaps fu xuan too, if she dared to rely on her divination. she wouldn’t, though. not after jing yuan himself warned her not to.
jing yuan found peace in your smile.
the first time he saw you smile, he was out with yanqing, surveying the busied streets of the ship. people parted for the general, offering their respects and well—wishes, which he was immensely grateful for. no matter how many times the people in the ship thanked him, jing yuan found it heartwarming all the while.
and yet—nothing could quite compare to your smile.
optics of molten gold catches sight of your smile—his eyes, ever so charming yet meticulous, hidden behind curtains of white. the cloud general found himself stunned; rooted to the spot, as he gazes at your smile. perhaps for others, it was another smile in the sea of other smiles, but it was different for the dozing general.
he finds himself drawn to it—to the way your eyes sparkled slightly in the sunlight, how your smile made the corners of your hues crinkle. the full cheeks, dusted by roses blooming ethereally, partnered with the soft laugh you let out—his favorite melody, unbeaten.
it was not a question of “why?”, but a statement of “because.”
why was jing yuan drawn to you? because he found your smile utterly captivating, he loves seeing you smile, he loves hearing you laugh—like the first taste of iced cold tea after a long day of training, akin to the sweet—sourness of lemongrass steeped into it. or, maybe even the first beam of sunlight after tedious cold nights. if jing yuan was a retired soldier who became a poet, he’d compare your smile to the first glances of light after a long battle, to the glow of a healer’s ability after suffering from an arduous wound.
for jing yuan, your smile was light itself; and as the cloud general of the xianzhou luofu, he found peace in it.
#🌷 lovingly adored by ophelia.#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail jing yuan#honkai star rail jing yuan x reader#hsr jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x reader#hsr jingyuan#honkai jing yuan
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Forgotten Child - Ch. 3
Shang Tsung x Reader
Masterlist || Previous Part || Next Part
Characters - Shang Tsung, you, Li Mei, Kitana, Mileena
Summary - A night alone gives you feelings that spill into the next day
Word Count - 1600
Warnings - angst :) not proofread :)
Tags - @mortal-kombat-shitposts @geeky-trash01 @fandom-garbage
The black dahlia, a mysterious and alluring bloom, stands tall as you admire her petals. She’s been your favorite flower since childhood. You remember annoying your family with facts such as its petals are not actually black! Rather, it’s a purple, almost maroon color, and did you know they are native to Earthrealm?
Your admiration for the flower meant the palace gardens had a patch of black dahlias dedicated to you. Smaller than the patch of flowers dedicated to your sisters, but arguably more loved.
“You were always fond of the dahlia,” a voice says behind you, making you jump. Hand over your heart, you turn to confront the voice.
“First Constable! What are you doing here?!”
Li Mei smiles apologetically, not meaning to scare you. You were the only royal to remain close to her after the death of your father. His death hurt, yes, but your anger was never taken out on her.
“I should be asking you the same. It is late, you shouldn’t be out here.”
Though you trusted Li Mei, you couldn’t let slip that Shang was to visit you soon. It’s frustrating he’d rather keep your love hidden, but you’ll always respect his wishes. It would be nice if she could leave sooner than later.
“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you roam the palace grounds,” you deflect. “Does mother know you are here?”
She nods before moving in to give you a quick hug. She sighs, and you can tell her heart is heavy. The grief of not only losing her emperor, but her closest friend too, was almost too much to bear. You’ll never envy her position in life.
“My family is in deep mourning, Li Mei. I know you miss everyone; I promise they’ll come around soon.”
There’s not much truth to your words. Your mother will most likely hold a grudge against her until the end of time. Still, you hope your worlds will comfort her. Li Mei shakes her head, as if to remind herself why she’s here.
“I was instructed to inform you the Empress wants you to welcome the Earthrealmers for the tournament tomorrow.”
“Ah! The tournament. It completely slipped my mind.”
Li Mei suddenly looks concerned, much to your confusion. She holds your face in her hands and looks deep into your eyes, trying to find something wrong. You relax in her touch; she’s always felt like a second mother to you.
“Not once have you ever forgotten about an Earthrealm visit. You enjoy talking to Liu Kang. What occupies your mind?”
Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung -
“Nothing, I have just been busy.”
Li Mei wants to press further, but decides against it. She wishes you well before taking her leave, leaving you alone once again. You wander around the garden for some time. Shang is a tad bit late, but not enough to make you worry. You return your focus to the garden, heart aflutter in anticipation. There were better, more hidden places for the two of you to meet, but something about the gardens heightens the experience of your secret romance. Maybe it’s the way Shang plucks a rose before placing it in your hand, or the way the dahlia seems to capture his heart, too.
In the distance you spot a clock tower, its chiming announcing the midnight hour, and still, there’s no sign of your love. Anxiety laughs and begins to taunt you, but you swallow the negative feelings and choose to have faith Shang will appear soon. Gazing up at the moon, you whisper his name, hoping he’ll somehow hear your call.
Hours and hours pass. It’s a bit embarrassing, spending hours in the same spot. He isn’t going to show, you know he won’t, but your mind tells you to stay put. The first glimmers of dawn appear, the dark sky morphing into pinks and golds; despair settles in. The birds sang with you not too long ago but now they mock you with their joyous songs.
The sun’s golden rays cast shadows over the garden as you lower your head in sorrow. Precious time that could’ve been spent reading, writing, or sleeping was now wasted by false words. You allow yourself to drown in sorrows for a little while longer before making your way to your bedroom. It’s time to start your day.
Resting before the tournament would’ve been wise. You feel a bit off as you wait for the Earthrealmers with your sisters. All-nighters aren’t uncommon for you. You learned from an early age how to make yourself appear as normal as possible even when you’re running on two hours of sleep. Still, rest would be appreciated. If only someone told you he wasn’t coming…
“Something bothers you. Are you unwell?” Kitana asks, looking over at you. Sighing, you erase any current thoughts of Shang, realizing your frustration with him is easily shown on your face. Maybe you aren’t good at appearing normal.
“I’m fine, Kitana.”
“Are you sure? Mileena and I can greet the Earthrealmers alone. You look upset, you need time alone.” Kitana places her hand on your back and gently nudges you away. Mileena notices your pained expression, and shoos you away.
“You both treat me like a child…” you want to protest more, but you honestly don’t feel like being here. You want to find Shang Tsung and berate him for not showing up, but you also want to curl up in your bed and cry. Finally giving in, you leave your sisters, but not before telling them to apologize to Liu Kang for your absence. You make your way to your room, carefully avoiding any place your mother may be.
To your surprise, Shang Tsung sits on your bed while staring out the window. The sight of him turning around and looking at you with soft eyes would normally make you melt, but you feel anger seeping in. You glare at him, before climbing into your bed.
“Get. Out. I am not in the mood for you right now.”
He sighs before standing to close your door; Shang has to make sure no one sees you’re in his room. He climbs into bed with you and you quickly turn around so your back is facing him. For a moment, guilt passes over his features. It’s a feeling he’s never been familiar with. Throwing an arm over your waist - and noting how you make no effort to move it - he speaks:
“I had matters to attend to last night, something I couldn’t avoid.”
You roll your eyes. “I would’ve appreciated a message, a note, anything, to let me know you were busy. Instead, I sat in the gardens like a fool. A fool who was mocked by the sun’s rising. I wonder if you even care about our time together.”
“I do care, more than I once thought,” Shang replies, gaining your interest. You turn around and face him, eyes still dark with anger. It feels like a small win to him.
“More than you once thought? You did not care in the past?”
“When we met, I did not expect to fall in love with you. Nor did I expect a royal to pay attention to someone like me. You are beautiful, loving, and so much more than I deserve-”
“Get to the point, sorcerer,” you snap, “I currently have no stomach for your tangents.”
He sighs, taking a moment to collect himself. “I cannot explain the circumstances of my absence right now. But know that it was a matter of utmost importance. I do apologize for being unable to notify you, and I ask for your forgiveness.”
Torn between your love for Shang Tsung and the pain of his absence, you stay quiet. Anger fades but leaves behind slight resentment. “I took time to think to myself last night. I cannot be in a relationship I have to hide. I want Outworld to see I am proud of my love, and I want you to be proud, too. I wonder if these feelings are wasted on a man like you.”
“They are not. I understand your wishes and I ask that you be patient for a while longer.” Lying to you is odd, he can’t describe the feeling, but it doesn’t feel good. Making your relationship public could bring unwanted attention to his and Quan Chi’s actions. He briefly wonders if getting involved with you was a mistake, but he can’t bring himself to break things off. Shang feels selfish for wanting your touch.
“You say that often. I wait, and wait, but nothing happens. Your words are starting to feel empty.” You want to cry. Neither of you expected a lonely night in the gardens would bring up so many feelings. It’s late in the afternoon now; Quan Chi will surely wonder where Shang is by now. He begrudgingly gets out of your bed and opens your window, preparing to leave.
“I will return tonight, we can talk further then.” Shang looks back at you with a neutral expression, but his heart is annoyingly hopeful. This conversation felt disjointed and leaves you both uneasy and unsatisfied. It doesn’t matter to you though, you want time to yourself.
“Do not bother, sorcerer. For now, I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”
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