#reblogs are gold and reblogs with tags makes you yourself golden

[toruro]

— ✧ red (k)nights

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. minghao is your knight in shining armor. literally.

tags. smut (18+), so much fluff, royal au, princess!reader, knight!minghao, secret relationship (kind of?!), minghao’s finger pieces from the super mv …

outfit inspo. minhgao's armor is as shown in the pics, his robes are similar to the light brown ones worn in their inkigayo performance, & reader's robes are of similar design to their 2nd outfits in the super mv!

fic playlist.

w/c. 6.7k

a/n. i'm usually not into royal aus or any au in general that isn't modern, but i had so much fun writing this and i think my mind has changed ... so i hope u enjoy! comments/reblogs are always appreciated c:

“You’re upset,” Eunji notes, walking into your room as sunlight peeks through your silk blinds.

Grumbling, you slowly push yourself off the mattress and lean against the headboard as you rub your eyes. The soft browns and golds of your room are starting to sink into your vision as you adjust to the light, murmuring, “You didn’t knock.”

Eunji sighs, patting her hands down on her apron after setting down your black robe. “Your father doesn’t have any rules about walking in without knocking. And besides, you always lock the door if it’s necessary—if it isn’t locked, I assume it’s alright for me to walk in.”

“What about my rules?” you huff, finally slipping out of bed so Eunji can help you slip into your daytime robes.

“I don’t suppose you’re the king?” she responds as you groggily make your way up to her, your nightgown wrinkling at the ends.

“Eunji,” you whine, throwing yourself onto one of your plush lounge chairs in front of her. “I’m too tired,” you grumble when she points at the robe, again, signaling you to put it on.

“You’re upset,” she corrects, lifting the clothes and unwinding them for you as you begrudgingly stand up and slip off the dress, leaving you only in your undergarments.

“He’s still gone,” you whisper quietly, lifting your arms so Eunji can slip in the sleeves from behind you, moving in front to help tie up the flat, golden drawstrings on the front into bows.

“Away. He is away, not gone,” Eunji says with a pat on your shoulders, adjusting the edges and collar of your velvet robe.

“What’s the difference?” you mutter once she’s done.

“The difference is he will be back,” she explains simply, taking a step back to admire her work. “Now, let’s get you down for breakfast? I wouldn’t want to be caught making you late for your meal by gossiping about your—” she pauses. Eunji is among three of maybe your only friends in the entire kingdom, yet she still bites her tongue, still holds back. You used to resent her for it, but now you understand it’s only natural—after all, it is her job to take care of you, and being careful is just what she has to do. But right now, Eunji is your friend, not your maid, and what she follows with only confirms that fact—“your boy.”

Your lips break into a bright grin at the mere name—your boy. You should feel childish—Minghao is so much more than a boy. He’s a gentleman, he’s strong, he’s confident—he is so much. But after all of that, after his sword is yielded, after all his armor is stripped, Minghao is yours—your boy.

“Will you let me do your hair?” Eunji interrupts your thoughts, holding up a few hair ribbons from your large vanity across the room. You grimace, shaking your head.

“I feel like I might go bald every time you do,” you tell her. Eunji gives you a stern look and you let your shoulders sag. “Fine, but please be gentle. I’m already under so much stress, I can’t have any more pressure on my head.”

“Stress?”

You shrug, a small smirk poking at your cheeks. “Oh you know. Just my boy.”

Eunji escorts you down to the dining hall after raking all your hair into some tight updo. Wincing as you pick at the ribbons, she scurries off when you sit down to order the chefs to present you breakfast.

“Good morning, Princess,” a familiar voice greets, Mingyu placing down a steel plate littered with an array of fruits. “What would you like this morning?”

You watch Eunji who re-enters as you formulate your response. “I’m not really hungry right now, if I’m being honest…” you sigh.

“Don’t let her get away with that!” Eunji calls out from the other end of the room, and you cross your hands over your chest as she walks over. Mingyu gives you a concerned look, and Eunji continues. “She’s saving her appetite for when she plans to sneak out in the evening!” she says in a half whisper, half yell sort of voice.

Mingyu’s eyes widen when he looks down on you. “You actually snuck out that time? I thought you were just bluffing so you wouldn’t have to have breakfast with your cousins!”

“It was both,” you grumble as you roll your eyes. “I’m sorry, but they’re insufferable—the both of them! And then…” your voice trails off, “Mingyu you know your food is great and I love it but there’s this fruit stall down in the civil grounds and—”

“You snuck out for fruit?” Mingyu gasps, stepping back. Pointing at the platter in front of you, he says, “I should have you know these are harvested from the finest farm in the kingdom.” You stick your tongue out at him, glancing at Eunji who is giving you a funny look. Mingyu catches on, and his eyes narrow. “Are you keeping a secret from me? Oh my god—you know I hate being left out of things.”

“You have a big mouth,” Eunji murmurs and you laugh along in agreement.

Mingyu frowns, swiping the platter away from you as you reach for a grape. “Hey! This is no way to treat a princess,” you pout.

“Tell me what’s going on then?” he pleads, and you glance at Eunji who seems to take it upon herself to spill the beans for you. Leaning in, she motions for Mingyu to come closer so you can all lower your voices.

“She went to see her boy,” she whispers.

Once again, you can’t help but let the grin break out onto your face. Your boy.

Fuck, you really miss him.

Him, being the man who followed you many nights ago as you tried to sneak out of the castle grounds. It’d been a boring few weeks and you overheard Eunji gushing to one of the other maids about a festival that took place in the civil grounds.

You’d heard of it before, and even showed up to the festival occasionally over the years, but it was only ever for a sparring moment—to sit and look pretty, wave hellos and goodbyes before you were being dragged back to the castle.

So when you heard that Eunji was planning on using one of her few, sacred days off, you just had to know what was so exciting about it—your temptation exceeded your ability to follow the rules.

Slipping into some old brown robes you used to wear for your dance training, you wrapped a shawl over your head and over the bottom half of your face in hopes to conceal as much of your identity as possible.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Or, well, maybe you could. You’d fantasized about this moment for ages, never really having the drive to go through with it though. That is, not until now. Still, you’d played this chain of events too many times for anything to go wrong. You had thought about every possible chance of something going wrong, and right now you were certain that you had planned against it.

Foolproof. Your plan just had to be foolproof.

So when you snuck off that night, when the deep oranges of the sunset turned to red and soon to black, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that things would go perfectly fine. That you’d be able to run through the gardens, through the militia grounds, and into the civil grounds, slip in and out of the festival, and back into your bed before anyone could even realize that the princess wasn’t in her bed.

Silly you for not accounting for him.

Him, being the man who was out in the militia courtyards, donned in his training robes as he read a book under the dim light of a flickering, yellow lantern. Him, being the man you thought wouldn’t recognize your figure as you scurried through the pathway and towards the exit to the civil grounds.

You were foolish, and Minghao was perceptive.

You hardly were in the crowd at the festival for more than half an hour before a strong hand tugged at your wrist. Considering yelling for help, you opened your mouth to scream, but not before a large, warm hand clasped over your mouth, trapping in any noises you made. He was gentle with the way he pulled you to a quiet place behind the wall, and even under the dim, crimson glow from the festival, you’re able to make out his face when he finally releases you.

His face was no stranger to your eyes, as his duties as a performance knight had him on and off palace grounds consistently. Xu Minghao. You remembered the name, and watching the scarlet hues fall on his skin, you were reminded of just why his face has not left your mind—why you recall him, and not any other knights.

The redness casted a sharp shadow over him, sharp jawline seeming further whetted under this new glow. Minghao’s dark and shiny hair hung perfectly to shield his gorgeous eyes from the bright lights from around you, and you find yourself growing mesmerized by the way he gazes down at you so … passionately.

Finally breaking the silence that stuffed the space between you, he spoke, “What are you doing here, Princess?” Unexpected of the concern that laces his tone, you were taken aback, mouth falling slightly agape as you wondered why he chose not to scold or reprimand you.

“I wanted to see the festival,” you finally managed to whisper, tearing your eyes away from the handsome man in front of you to look behind at the celebrations taking place all around you. Minghao studied your face for a few pensive moments before sighing and nodding.

He surprised you again with his next, quiet words, “I can show you.”

Looking up at him with bright eyes, you beamed.

Sneaking out to your “fruit stall” doesn’t work, not when Eunji is on your tail. You huff and puff when she sits you down in your room that night, but then she’s whispering into your ear about how his team will be arriving the next morning.

That night, your stomach churns with the anticipation of seeing him, touching him, holding him. It’s been too long, and all you’ve been left with for the past weeks is the ghost of his touch against yours, imagining it’s Minghao when you hug your pillow every night.

You don't get an ounce of sleep, of course, but when you wake up after dozing off to the bright, morning sky, you feel nothing but excitement bubble up in your stomach. You ask Eunji to dress you in your robe of finest silk, and she grins, feigning ignorance as to the reason behind your request.

“This would look nice, don’t you think?” you murmur, holding up a silver dangling hair pin.

Eunji walks over, inspecting the little accessory you’ve picked out. “I don’t understand why you’re putting so much thought into this…he’s seen you in much less,” she mutters and you gasp loudly, nudging her shoulder.

“Y-you said you would never bring that up!” you stutter out, placing the pin back down. The that in question being the time you had snuck Minghao into your room one night and forgot to lock your door. That morning, Eunji was met with the side of a bare chested knight and the princess rolling around together under the sheets, the first person to be introduced to your little secret.

Eunji only hums, looking over your array of jewelry. “The gold would look nicer,” she tells you, ignoring your previous exclamation. She lifts a nearly identical hair pin, except this one is coated in gold, matching the shimmering designs on your robes.

You smile and nod, turning around in response so she can put the pin in your updo. As you continue to go about your morning, there’s an extra jump to your step when you make your way to the militia office. Inside is your father’s head officer, Seungcheol, sitting at his desk as he goes through the papers.

“The demo team comes back today, right Officer?” you ask curiously, stepping in.

Cheol looks up at you, eyebrows quirked. “They came back this morning, yes,” he replies, standing up as he organizes some of the papers in a neat stack. “Excited?”

“No, why would I be?” you say, letting your shoulders deflate a little to hide your very real and very true excitement. Seungcheol gives you a cheeky smile as he adjusts his coat.

“You’re not great at lying.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest nonchalantly as Seungcheol walks out of the room, letting you follow behind.

“Really? Your father is picking up on it too. Tell me to tell him how the demo team is doing. Asks me to let him know if there’s anyone that seems … suspicious.”

You scoff, letting your hands fall to your side, “Well he hasn’t said anything to me about it … yet at least.” You sigh, figuring that if Seungcheol already has an idea of what’s going on, there’s no point in feigning ignorance. “Was I being too obvious when I asked for a whole unit to be moved from the battle team to the demo team?”

Seungcheol laughs. “Yes. Your father is definitely—”

“Suspecting?”

“No, that’s not the right word. I think he seems more open to the idea than you might think. I was just going to say he has a feeling you and one of the demo team’s members are … are involved.”

You hum in response, skipping besides Seungcheol as you make your way to the militia courtyard. “That’s good to hear.”

“I guess. Whether your father approves so far or not, tell your boy—” Your heart flutters when Seungcheol says it like that. “—whichever one he is, to keep in line. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to report any bad news back to the King.”

You roll your eyes but don’t respond, walking outside into the field of grass where some soldiers are lined up in neat rows in front of a black, raised platform where you and Seungcheol are supposed to stand. As you near the group of soldiers, your stomach ties up in a tight knot when you catch sight of the familiar face.

Walking timidly up to the platform next to Seungcheol, you place your hands in front of you, playing with your fingers as you struggle to break your eyes away from Minghao. He isn’t looking at you right now—he isn’t allowed to you.

With his helmet drawn by his side, sword sheathed at his back, crimson armor with gold intricacies glistening under the sun, it’s all too much for you—Minghao in his armor is a force of beauty, and one to be reckoned with.

And he’s standing so straight, so tall, his well built figure being accentuated by the sharp curves of the metal that plates his skin and you start to lose track of Seungcheol’s words. It isn’t until he nudges you in your side when you jump up and out of your reverie, only to see him looking down at you with concerned eyes.

“Princess,” he says loudly, and then much quieter, “Are you alright?”

“I—yes, sorry. It’s just the sun, it’s in my face and I lost track of things for a moment,” you lie, looking back at the knights standing in uniform in front of you.

“Do you want to head back inside? You don’t really have to be—”

“I’ll stay,” you say quickly. “What was it I needed to do?”

“Some last words for them. It’s been a long few weeks, so just say something and formally release them for this week.”

Right. That’s why you’re here. Clearing your throat, you straighten your back, causing the men to all turn their attention to you. Finally, both you and Minghao think. Finally he can look at you.

And fuck, you look so beautiful with your hair pinned back and loose ribbons strewn in, your black and gold royal robes hanging effortlessly off your body with the little bows decorating your waist. Gentle fingers clasped in front of you and Minghao can almost feel your gentle touch on him when you speak.

“Thank you for your excellent performances over the past weeks,” you begin to speak, your eyes doing their best to not linger on Minghao too long. “Your efforts are greatly appreciated, and to express my gratitude, you are relieved of your duties from now until the end of this weekend. Report to your duties the following morning as you would on any regular schedule. Thank you again.” You close with a bow, stepping back and motioning your hand out front as to signal.

“You are dismissed,” Seungcheol calls out loudly, and you see the way the soldier’s immediately drop their shoulders, their gazes averting to each others’ as they break out into loose conversation. Well, all but one. Minghao’s eyes are locked in on yours and you’re finding it impossibly hard to look away.

Looking up at Seungcheol, “Can I go now?”

“Of course. Thank you for showing up. Do you need one of us to escort you back to the castle grounds or—”

You shake your head quickly, eyes flickering to Minghao who is making conversation with one of his platoon members casually. “N-no, that won’t be necessary.”

“Are you sure? You aren’t looking too well. I think it’d be safest if you had one of them help you.”

“I—” you pause, “Okay, I’ll take him,” you say before Seungcheol can make his own decision, pointing at Minghao. Hearing your raised voice, he turns to see your finger in his direction, both you and Seungcheol looking straight at him. Seungcheol looks at you as Minghao walks over, but eventually shrugs.

“Minghao, take the princess to castle grounds,” Seungcheol instructs, throwing you a knowing look. He nods without a word, bowing to you and then his leader as the captain walks away to talk to some other soldiers, leaving just the two of you.

The air is thicker now—it’s filled with all the words you want to say, all the things you want to do, all the thoughts you’ve been thinking and fuck—you really missed him. You need to remind yourself that you’re still out in the open, still in the militia courtyard, still not alone, and you don’t even allow Minghao to do the formal, custom bow and greeting before you turn on your heel and rush away.

Your strides are long but his are longer and he keeps up with your discerningly fast pace, following you out of the courtyard, through the rows of decorated barracks, and off the militia grounds without a word. It’s only when you’re both alone in the small pathway that connects the militia grounds to the castle that you finally allow your pace to rest.

Minghao is the first to speak after glancing around to ensure that the coast is clear, “You seem to have forgotten that you’re the only one who isn’t lugging around 40 pounds worth of armor.” His voice comes out in soft pants, and it’s slightly gruff, but then he’s dropping his helmet to the ground and grabbing your face so he can smash your face into his.

His lips are chapped, moving roughly against yours hungrily, his tongue licking into your mouth as you struggle to place your hands—his armor isn’t the best for clinging onto—so you settle for placing them on his neck. Minghao’s own hands are cradling the back of your head, angling you better as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of your mouth with a passion that threatens to consume you. He tastes of salt and sweat, your own lips sweet with the scent of royal gardens, and it all has you dizzy.

When Minghao breaks the kiss, you feel at a loss as you grapple for him, his skin, his touch against you. “Y-you need to get this off,” you say hastily, knocking on the steel armor that dons his body. You let your fingers trace down the hard material, finally letting them fall down to grasp one of the few exposed parts of his body left—his hands.

“Eager already?” his eyes flicker up at you and it seems to light a flame beneath you. You squeeze his fingers lightly, looking around you to make sure no one has stepped into this pathway yet.

“Whatever.” You pause. “I missed you,” you add quietly, as Minghao leans forward and adjusts the collar of your robes for you, the small gesture making your heart tender. His gaze softens, and he uses one hand to gently stroke your cheek.

“I missed you too. It was so long—I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses, and the admission has your lips pulling into a smile.

“Do you want to go to the gardens?” you ask excitedly, holding his hand up to your chest as you clutch it tightly. “The enclosed one? I’ll ask Eunji to make sure it stays private for the rest of the morning and—” Minghao’s lips pursed into a tight line causes disappointment to well up inside your belly. “What? You don’t want to?”

“No—no, of course I want to, it’s just…” his voice trails off and you look up at him dejectedly. “I need to go to the barracks. I know we have the week off but I still have things to do.”

“Oh,” you murmur, stepping back a little. Minghao frowns, squeezing your cheek lightly with the calloused pads of his fingers.

“You know I want to. I just need to unpack and get this—” he looks down at himself and clanks the metal armor, “—get this shit off and take care of some stuff with Jun.” You nod understandingly, but he notices the ways your eyes droop down just a little. Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he continues. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

Your eyes sparkle at the suggestion. “Tonight?” Minghao nods with a smile, his hand still resting by your cheek, gently stroking your jawline. “The gardens? My room? Where?”

“I actually have a different place in mind. It’s in the civil grounds. It’ll be better if you can come before sunset…” As he speaks, his fingers trail down your neck, running over your collarbone right where the two ends of your robe meet just above your chest. His touch lingers for a few moments, burning trails of fire into your skin as you struggle to keep your heartbeat steady.

“The civil grounds? We’ve never gone there before,” you murmur, voice dripping with curiosity. “At least not since … well you know.” Since the night we met.

“Trust me?” The way he looks down at you with pure adoration makes you feel like he can hear your heartbeat from your chest, shaking the earth under you.

“Before sunset, right here,” you promise.

You can’t quite hide your enthusiasm from Eunji but you also can’t quite care. Nearly jumping off the walls from excitement, it feels like an eternity before the hour strikes seven and you’re whispering to her to cover for you as you slip off the castle grounds and to the little pathway that leads to the militia grounds.

And there he is, your boy, clad in no longer his armor but brown robes which hug his built figure. There is no sword drawn in his back nor is there a helmet clinging by his side, and you grin when you approach him with a smile, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Patting your back gently, Mingao places a soft kiss on your forehead, giving you a warning look as your eyes ask for more. “Not now … not here,” he clarifies, running his hand over your head once, admiring the updo it’s in as he slots his other hand into yours. “Don’t you want to see where I’m taking you?”

You grip his hand tighter and nod as he pulls out a brown fabric from the crevice in his robe. “What’s this for?” you ask as he drapes it over your head gingerly, finally tying the loose ends under your chin.

“Just so you don’t get noticed. We are going to the civil grounds, after all,” Mingaho explains, patting your cheek lightly once he’s done and pulling you to follow after him as he leads the way. You’re both quiet as he leads you carefully through the paths of the militia grounds, finally sneaking you out through a side gate.

Minghao quietly pulls you through the winding streets of the civil grounds where the atmosphere is bustling, with vibrant colors, loud voices, and an endless amount of people flooding the pathways. It’s new, of course, but with the sun hanging low above you, Minghao’s warm hand encased around yours, and the promise of a good night in your mind, you feel oddly comforted.

You’re led through the crowds, Minghao holding you close to his side until he stops at the base of one, tall building, leading you through an alleyway and to the back where there’s a narrow staircase leading to the roof. With a hand on your back, he guides you up the stairs, still keeping close as he follows carefully behind you.

“This is Jun’s family’s old shop,” he explains as the distant sounds of laughter and music grow fainter. “They’ve moved buildings now, but me and Jun come here sometimes with friends because this one is really tall and … and well you’ll see,” he murmurs as you finally reach the top.

He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist as you both walk onto the rooftop which is lined with a fence style barrier. The ground is covered in old rugs and there are some sacks and boxes strewn around. Walking over to the edge with Minghao, you gasp softly at the sight around you. The civil ground sprawls beneath you, and as you look up, you can see the castle against the blooming oranges and reds of the sky—it’s beautiful.

“This is … wow … this is really pretty, Hao,” you say, and his hold on you tightens for a second before letting go so he can turn around. He walks over to one of the boxes, rummaging through its contents before pulling out a few linen sheets and a lantern, setting it down on the rugs.

“Come, sit,” he instructs as he lays out the sheets, placing the light on top. You follow, smoothing your robes before sitting next to him and leaning into his shoulder so he can wrap an arm around you. Looking up, you watch the sky turn into a hue of orange so deep and vibrant that it’s nearly red.

“You really can’t get a view like this from the castle,” you say with a sigh as Minghao uses one hand to light up the lantern.

He hums in response, pressing a kiss to the temple of your head. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been meaning to bring you here for a while.” You turn to look up at him with a big grin, finally pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It’s short and sweet, and although you really are aching for more, you suppose you’ll settle for this right now. After all, you do have all night.

“This is beautiful,” Minghao tells you when you pull away, fingers brushing over the golden hairpin you stuck into your updo early in the morning.

“Eunji picked it out for me…”

He smiles at you gently, hands disappearing into the folds of his robe. “I love it. I actually wanted to show you something,” he says, pulling out a small object clasped in his hands.

Opening it up in front of you, on his palm sits a shiny, finger shaped accessory, gleaming with a hue that perfectly matches your hairpin. It vaguely resembles the figure of Minghao’s own fingers, and you run your fingers over the cool metal, tracing over the delicate patterns carved in.

“What’s this?”

“A prize. The kingdom was holding a competition for the different demonstration units, and as the leader of the unit that won, I was made this,” he explains, rubbing his own fingers over the accessory. Wordlessly, he slips it onto his middle finger and holds it up in front of you to see it more closely. As your vision zones in on the golden piece, you notice a shift in Minghao's eyes—a darkening intensity.

“Hao,” you whisper quietly, and then he’s bringing the decorated finger up to your face and pressing the cool metal against your lips. Gasping, you lean forward instinctively, your mouth wrapping around the piece instinctively. His hand in your mouth, you can smell him, although the taste of iron against your tongue is unfamiliar. New, but not unpleasant.

“You have no idea,” Minghao begins to say, pressing his fingers down on your tongue firmly, “how long I’ve been thinking about this.” You can’t respond, not with the way your mouth is stuffed, but you honestly don’t need to. The way your tongue swirls over his digits and teeths at the accessory is enough to tell Minghao that you’ve been aching for this just as long as he has. “Do you want to…try something?” he asks tentatively, slipping his slick fingers out carefully.

You don’t need to think about your answer, not with Minghao. You’d trust him no matter what, follow him anywhere, let him do anything to you. Your fingers toy with the ribbons of your robes as you nod eagerly, and he helps you untie them from your side. The cloth hangs loose from your shoulders now, the gap at your chest spreading now and leaving you bare.

The golden piece is still on his fingers, and as he trails his hands down the curve of your tits, pressing against your stomach and dipping in between your legs, Minghao watches your face contort into pleasure. The cool metal pressing against your warm cunt has your soft breaths turning into harsh pants as you grab his firm bicep, legs spreading instinctively.

Quickly, you glance around you, but Minghao quells your worries when he presses his lips against your neck and murmurs, “Don’t worry angel, we’re too high up for anyone to see.” His fingers are gliding between your folds as he sucks against your neck, and you know he wants to be sweet with you, wants to take his time, wants to be the patient gentleman he is, but it’s been far too long.

“Minghao,” you moan when his thumb brushes against your clit. “Wanna feel you,” your murmur, nudging his face in the crook of your neck with your own. He chuckles into your skin, licking a hot stripe over your skin before nodding. It hardly takes him a second before he’s circling your slick hole and pressing in.

The hard accessory is a new feeling—this isn’t the same as the familiar pads of Minghao’s long fingers rubbing against your plush walls, but you can’t say you don’t like it. Whining into his mouth as he kisses you, your hands roam Minghao’s body, tugging at the ropes of his robe around his torso.

As you aimlessly try to shuffle his robe off of him, Minghao starts to plunge his fingers in and out. Shrugging his robe off his shoulders, you’re finally able to press your palms against his hard chest, breaking away from the kiss so you can admire him. “You like it?” he asks amusedly as your mouth hangs wide open when he presses his fingers in extra deep with one thrust. Your head lolls back heavily, the finger piece adding an extra layer of thickness that you aren’t used to.

“Feels s’good,” you say softly, the moans getting caught in your throat when he speeds up his movements. “Love your fingers …” You take a deep breath before continuing. “Love y—you!” you whimper unexpectedly when you feel your orgasm creep up on you unexpectedly quickly.

“Are you gonna cum, princess?” Something about the way Minghao calls you princess is different from others. Maybe it’s the way he isn’t calling you that because you are the princess, but because you are his princess. His sweet girl, falling apart at the palm of his hand as he rubs your sensitive nub and continues to finger fuck you until you moan his name. His name falls from your lips like honey, sweet and thick as he kisses you passionately and doesn’t stop working you through your orgasm until you’re squirming in his hold and pawing at his pants.

Slipping out his fingers, Minghao holds the shiny accessory up, and it seems to shimmer even more now, coated in your wetness and reflecting the pretty red tint of the sky. Gently pulling the piece off his finger, he sets it to the side. “How was it?”

You smile hazily, still recovering from your much awaited orgasm. “I loved it … felt different but I loved it,” you tell him honestly, shuffling over on his lap as your robe falls completely off your body, leaving you in nothing but panties. Minghao’s breath hitches at the sight, and you grin as your fingers make their way to the firm waistband of his brown pants.

He’s quick to catch on, enveloping your lips in a kiss as he pulls his pants and boxers off in one go, hard cock springing free and hitting your thigh lightly. You feel the warm precum leak against your skin as you shift closer, your stomach pressing against his now that you’re both completely bare and more desperate than ever.

Minghao's arms wrap around your torso, one hand going down to line his thick tip up with your folds, letting himself get coated in your wetness. "You ready, angel?" he asks when your mouths break apart from each other, his pretty lips red and swollen. Your eyebrows pinch together when you feel his cock prodding at your entrance and you nod vigorously. “Words, princess, use your words.”

“Yes, Hao, ‘m ready,” you moan when you feel him press against you, letting your head fall to his shoulder. “So ready, so, so ready,” you continue, not being able to control yourself when you press your own hips down. Minghao gasps at the feeling of you sinking on him, warm walls hugging his cock and fuck, he realizes how much he missed you.

Realizes just how much his fist falls short of your perfect pussy—long nights of being without you so he to resort to jerking himself off to the thought of you but none of that compared to the feeling of you whining his name on top of him, hands clutching at his arms as you try to adjust to his size.

You’re also having your own moment of epiphany now too—realization that your fingers were not enough, and will never be enough. At least, not after you’ve felt Hao’s cock inside of you—one thrust in and he’s already hitting all the right spots and having you writhe on top of him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Minghao groans when your ass settles fully on his lap, his cock pressed into you, balls deep, as your fingers lace into his hair and grab at his soft locks.

“Oh—oh m-my god, Hao,” you whimper when he shifts inside of you. The pain that once came from his size is now morphing into a white, hot pleasure that ripples through your spine as you lift your hips up halfway before letting them fall back down. “So—s’big,” you gasp out when his fat tip nudges against your cervix.

Minghao feels his cock twitch inside of you at your words, using his hands to guide your body so you can move and bounce on top of him with less effort. Your cunt is so tight around him and his eyes press shut tightly when he hears you call out his name. “Doin’ so good for me princess,” he praises when you roll your hips against his.

Both of your movements aren’t fast nor extravagant but it’s the way he’s so close to you, skin melting into one other as you share your breath and exchange moans. Bodies moving in sync as you drink in the velvety moans, your nose nuzzles into his when your thighs start to cramp up. “Hao …” you call out as his cock punches the air out of your lungs. “…’m tired,” you mewl, your hips stuttering into his.

His hand cradles your neck as you both still, murmuring, “I got you angel.” Swiftly, Minghao flips you over so your back is pressed against the sheets and he’s on top of you, arms on either side of your head to hold himself up. One hand comes up to hold your cheek as he starts to move again, taking control of the thrusts now.

Stroking your cheekbone with his thumb, he ruts his hips into yours, cock and pussy jamming together in a sloppy mess as you feel that knot in your tummy start to tie up again. “Missed you s’much,” you confess as heat flourishes through your body.

“Missed you too angel,” Minghao returns almost immediately, letting the snap of his hips become more sharp and forceful, your body jerking back and forth with each movement. Your eyes flicker between Hao’s pretty face, coated in a sheen layer of sweat, and the night sky that begins to loom into a dark purple, revealing the stars. “Gonna have to fuck you every single night now that I’m back,” he grunts when you squeeze around him extra tight, letting himself drop down onto his elbows.

You shudder at the idea of having Hao’s cock inside of you every night, and you aren’t sure if your pussy can handle the pleasure. “I’ll—fuck—” you gasp between the words, “—I’ll sneak you in e-every night.”

“Yeah? Eunji’s not gonna get mad when she sees your door locked every morning?” he chuckles, bringing a hand down to rub at your clit.

“Don’t care,” you mutter, biting down on your lip as your feel the knot being pulled and tugged inside you. “Fuck—Hao, ‘m so close, so, so close … Are you close?” you ask dazedly, lips puffy and eyes wide as you look up at him. And looks so sexy with the way his brown eyes watch you intently, his muscles flexing with every movement and Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tries to hold off his own orgasm.

“Yeah, ‘m close angel, your pussy so good,” he slurs as he meets your lips for a tongue tying kiss. And slowly and carefully, you both start to unwind, your orgasm hitting you first from the overstimulation of your first that never quite ebbed away, Minghao’s following suit as you let out whimpers moans of his name into his mouth, cock twitching before filling you to the brim with his thick ropes of cum.

Your ears ring of white noise for the next few moments as thrash against Minghao, your bodies melting into one until he finally breaks away from your lips, leaving you both as a tangled mess of limbs. You’re breathing heavily into each other and you can’t quite comprehend what’s going on until he whispers your name into your ear, eyes shooting back to life.

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing your earlobe before lifting his head so he can look at you intently.

“I love you,” you say, without a second of hesitation. He’s still inside of you, and now you’re hyper-aware of the growing mess that sits between your legs. Minghao kisses your nose as you look down when he finally slips out of you, a small noise of complaint leaving your lips. Inhaling deeply, you sit up. “You’re going to live up to that promise, you know,” you say shyly when he looks at you, sitting up as well to grab his robe. “You know … every single night.”

Minghao grins. “Of course I will.”

“Can I hold you to that?” you ask slyly, intertwining your fingers with his.

Minghao rolls his eyes, palm pressing against yours. “Guess we’ll just have to try ‘n’ find out.”

[bts5sosempire]

the tyrant (iv)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,094

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, gaslighting, mention of manipulation, dark content, mention of child neglect and abuse, etc.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna's eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you."  

𝐚/𝐧: guess we’re reaching the pivotal point of the story where it’s gonna start taking a turn here on out 😈. churning on what I can onto my WIP archive. btw, please comment below the “comment” section for tagging. likes, comments, and reblogging are greatly appreciated too 💟 have a nice day bbs!

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

With the Fall Festival coming in an embrace to celebrate bountiful harvest and family joining together, you were standing in the middle of your room, facing a long mirror that Sukuna acquired from abroad from the western world when trading. Yumi and the other servants were fitting you for the special occasion as they layer you in countless pieces of clothing. The kosode was snugged around you tightly, keeping you warm from the upcoming chilling wind.

Speaking of Sukuna, he has been busy as of late; you were thankful for being able to breathe without him constantly eyeing your every move, but despite that, he settled down with his little spies around the castle to inform him about your stock status. Fiddling with your thick jeweled bangle around your wrist, you peer down and notice that the lock is quite loose. With a hard press in between your thumb and forefinger, you tried to bend the golden clasp to mold around the safety securely. But it's useless.

"Have you heard anything from Yuji?" Asking Yumi, who briefly looks up at you while fanning your kosode out behind you before looking back down.

Yumi: "From what I heard, he should arrive here in less than ten minutes."

There was a slight smile on your red rogue lips, "That's good." Readjusting your stance, the servants around you did a final touch-up on your hair and cosmetics. Turning around to exit your chamber, the screen door opens as you hold your head high.

Out into the main halls, other servants were bustling around alone after another or in groups. Meanwhile, each of them holds something in their hands or arms. They all greet you with a quick bow, mutter your title out, and make a way when you pass by before falling back into the routine.

After twisting and turning from many corners, you've reached the large entrance, where the welcoming banquet was thrown. Sukuna was already there, seated in his best midnight robes with stitches of gold and red in an intricate design that was carefully crafted only for him. There was already laughter ringing as concubines were talking amongst themselves. Across the main banquet room, on the left, was a Zen yard that divided children from dining with their parents. The children had their special mini banquet for them to feast while being under the watchful eyes of many countless nannies and guards. Tonight was filled with glee.

Stepping foot into the room, your presence was sensed immediately, and the chatter quieted, but not enough to kill the mood. Hanami quietly observes, sitting on the left next to Eisha. You made your way to the side and situated yourself next to Sukuna on the right. Sukuna glanced at you, but it quickly faded (you didn't even dare to acknowledge him). The unspoken and unresolved tension was noticeable, and no one dared to point it out. When it comes to you and Sukuna, the atmosphere is either rather scary, depressing, or heavy, like a dark cloud brewing over you two, with thunder rumbling at a distance.

Eisha cast a subtle view before facing forward. No words of sweet admiration from Sukuna? She smiles on the inside; there's nothing new with you and Sukuna; Eisha knows that Sukuna won't be mad for long. Still, she takes the leisure of enjoying the bitterness when you both had to offer to one another. It's rather intoxicating, knowing that it will remain stagnant.

"Open the doors and start guiding the guests to their assigned seats," Sukuna commanded, and a servant nodded before running off to complete their objective. The room remained quiet immediately, as not a word was spoken.

You nimbly pick up a small snack from the plate and gently place them inside your mouth.

As important guests pour in one by one or with their spouse, you gingerly watch until another pick hair comes into view. Yuji walks into the room with two people that you remember he mentions in the letters. Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki. The two children he had made friends with while staying at the Gojo compound.

Yuji talks animatedly with them both; as you can see, they're already fed up with him as their faces grimace. You could see Yuji pointing to you, urging Megumi and Nobara to look before waving excitedly like a puppy, and you smiled politely back at Yuji. You couldn't determine what they were saying, but Megumi pushed little pink hair starfish Yuji to their assigned seat as you assumed to free the entrance from being blocked. Nobara only sighed heavily at their antics from where you could see.

It's not long before your Aunt Setsuko steps into the room; she is suddenly glamor by the attention of older men and women alike. They all compliment how she could remain youthful and beautiful despite being forty-three. Hanami's moods sour on the side, and sparks of hatred seem to fly across the room as no one notices how your Aunt Setsuko gives out a discreet smug look of happiness from ruining her rival's evening. In a blink of an eye, your Aunt Setsuko's demeanor changes to elegance.

Waiting patiently for another twenty minutes, you look up from your snacks as you feel yourself freeze. From the entrance, you could see someone, their dark hair cascading down their back that is partially tied up. Your breath was caught up in your throat. You could feel it closing up. Past feelings and affection for them start to swell up in your chest again; oh, how much you miss him. Trying to remain indifferent as possible, it didn't go unnoticed under Sukuna's hawk eyes that remained trained on you; under his half-lidded stare, how your chest suddenly inhaled a breath and released it shakily. Even you went rigid.

Sukuna's eyes flitted to Geto Suguru, the bastard who still occupied your heart. The smile blossoms on his lips when he sees Suguru, who is equally astonished upon seeing you again, but he quickly regains composure once he sees the directive eyes of Sukuna. Sukuna, who didn't break eye contact, wanted to make sure Suguru knew who you belonged to, "How do you like my gift?"

This made you snap out of your daze. You cast an accusing look at him, your brows furrowing in anger and confusion.

Sukuna leans down, the tip of his nose close enough to touch your ear lobe, and his warm ticklish breath hits your cheek. He also purposely ensures that Suguru gets a good look, "I will make him miserable," whispering lowly into your ear. You didn't dare to budge or move. Your jaws were locked tightly that even your fists were balled ups that your pearly white knuckles were shown through the skin. Sukuna then chuckles deeply. From every angle, it looks like you both are a loving couple; you could feel the gazes piercing through you.

From the guest seating area, your Aunt Setsuko masks her displeasure expression behind a drawn hand fan as her eyes glower upon seeing Suguru. It then fled to you, seeing your facade slowly crumbling despite your trying to build it back up. What did you do? She could see the devilish expression that Sukuna was wearing. Whatever you did will be needed to be dealt with. It won't be good if anyone catches on.

Suguru then took his assigned seat; it felt like he was standing forever. He then didn't look your way again, for he was tense as you were when he finally saw you again. It's been five years since he last heard from or made contact with you. He forced himself to look forward no later than how much he wanted to rear his head your way. If he does look your way, he would be overwhelmed and flooded with emotions seeing your face again, but somehow he saw how restricted you had forced yourself. Suguru isn't stupid to pinpoint the why; your husband made you jaded with how much exertion you continuously build to keep Sukuna at bay.

"Is this what you wanted? Revenge?" You whisper right back at Sukuna, who once again chuckles.

Sukuna: "How could you think lowly of me?"

You: "It's not lowly when my opinion of you is below ground level."

"Then yes, it's revenge. You've denied me for so long, hurting me too. I'm just giving you back what you did to me." Sukuna taunts you, and you want to roll your eyes so badly.

"Me hurting you? You hurt yourself, not me; I made it clear, yet you push and prod me." There was a slight edge that sounded heavy with malice. "You wish to grasp something that is out of your control."

As if your words were not affecting him, Sukuna didn't take it to heart like he always did this time; somehow truth still lies in those words. "I will make you love me one way or another; you don't want to see him end up dead, do you?" This caught your attention, and Sukuna cruelly snickers. Before you could retort with a remark, Sukuna cuts you off, "It would be your fault if he somehow left behind two children too." Sukuna could see how a dubious expression settled on your face, but it got the message across. His capabilities to make it a reality if he wishes to. You didn't know if Suguru got married or not. Of course, you don't; how could you? A part of Sukuna hates seeing you deplorable, but this was a lesson for you. "Do you wonder who he married? Does it hurt knowing it wasn't you?" Slowly weaving himself inside your head, Sukuna never thought he would see another side of you as he dug deeper and deeper.

A weakness.

(Surname) clanswoman was prideful and forthright, but you look quite the opposite; right now. If Sukuna could laugh out loud at his discovery, he would, but seeing you in this naked state of mind, just using Suguru as a threat, exhilarates his interest. Is this the real you?

Now, this got Sukuna wondering if he should press on. Seeing how soft and pliable you look stirs his pools, despite your will waning. The temptation of breaking you dilated his pupils with such craze that he suddenly backed off from you slowly. Thus your resolute self returned once he was not in your space anymore. Still, you're quite a bit shaken. Sukuna had planned to torture you more, but this exceeded his expectations.

Sukuna didn't want to prolong the banquet; for he had a lifetime to strip you. You are already an addiction in his mind, slithering in every nook and cranny of his cranium. It's only fair for him to do it right back, even if it was unpleasant on your end. His mood shifted happily as he grabbed his cup and gave an ovation toast to the room's crowd. "I'm glad that everyone has accepted my invitation and decided to join this glorious event," putting on an impromptu act of class, Sukuna eyes every person in the room, but his gaze lingers on Suguru, who pierces right back at him. Smiling wide with his teeth shown, Sukuna's strawberry orbs glow with mockery to test and see how long Suguru was willing to accept his taunting and humiliation. No one knows the hidden smile that Sukuna is projecting; they all assume it was a typical behavioral trait from the Lord.

"To my wife, Eisha," Sukuna made a loving gesture to her, and Eisha smiled politely back at Sukuna to keep up with the farce. "Who had spent countless hours and times of her days to make this event possible..." Going off in his speech, Sukuna talks about being grateful and portrays himself as the perfect family man.

You only sit in silence and listen to the vernacular and nit-pick everything apart. Everyone may buy his bullshit, including the harem; it's not hard to believe if you're naive enough to buy it. You always knew from the bottom of your heart how Sukuna divides his love and attention, a dose to keep someone floating to come back begging for more. Easier for him to manipulate and control. He is a man whose mind could easily conform others to his cause if he gives them something to believe in; if not, he's good at negotiating to give someone a false benefit, but it only benefits him above all else. Everything is always a transaction to him, nothing more.

Once the speech ended, the applause went off, and your attention shifted again.

Your Aunt told you to follow her quietly, and you notice how her mood has been depleted. Any kindness left her the moment she saw Suguru and your reaction.

Once you both are far enough away from all earshot, she lets her fury be known. "You insolent child, do you know what you could've cost me?" Setsuko seethes out, face lashing out with anger. You understand this demeanor very well; you saw this countless times during your first stay with her. Anything that isn't delivered to perfection will be handled with outrage. "I've raised you to be absolute. Have you forgotten anything I put inside your brain?" The manners and duties of a woman. "We (Surname) women are not made of weaknesses; we strive to be the finest among all."

Despite remaining stoic and quiet, your Aunt could see how detached you'd become from the mold she had pounded you into since childhood this evening. And it's all because of Suguru. It's all his fault. The number of times she has made you perfect came crumbling when that man came around, how you become unruly and unladylike. Almost untamable. Too alive.

"What leeway did you give for Sukuna to invite a lowborn?" Setsuko demand.

"I didn't give him anything." You told her back and steeled yourself from what would come next.

Your Aunt Setsuko's face twists more, with anger prominently overtaking her elegance, "Do you know what happens when you lie to me, child?" You shudder at the thought, and your past comes back flooding. The nostalgic pain of your heels and calves being whipped by a thin stick until you bleed and couldn't walk properly, sit, or sleep as it hurt too much at night. If not that, then you would have to spend countless days scribing down numerous copies of books and family scripts from dawn to dusk with a needle pointing directly at your throat hidden underneath your clothes to ward off any thoughts of sleeping or your head drooping too low.

Then Suguru came into your head.

He was gentle with you, despite your Aunt having to shoo him away rudely or making guards patrolling the area to make sure to get rid of Suguru on sight. Suguru comforts you by sneaking into your Aunt's compound any time of the day by applying ointment to your wounds or helping you scribe down texts; he never once stifles you. He allows you to be who you are with him. The old days when he sneaked you out of the house to go on a horseback ride with him down the rivers, creeks, and forest. When he and you spend time under the stars sneaking kisses and giggling with each other. To give gifts for each other with the thought of each other. You still remember going to the village to eat delicacies with Suguru you were forbidden to eat when you were out with your Aunt. In the end, you feel safe and see with him that love blossoms between you.

"Fix your face this instant," Setsuko deeply growls out "that pitiful look doesn't suit you." You didn't realize what kind of face you were making when thinking about Suguru, but your Aunt thought it was her that caused you to make that expression.

Straightening yourself with a deep breath, you square and pose your shoulders to give off a strong impression like you were always taught. Setsuko's face eased for a fraction, but the look remained. She looks out where the crowds are gathered, idling around, worshipping the gold and food that was platter out for them to greed. Setsuko's cast her vision to Suguru, who was surrounded by other women who had their daughter(s) conjoined to them by the hips, selling them out to him. She sneers with a click of her tongue in distaste. Shameful, their eyes speak of nothing but greed, power, and camaraderie. Although Setsuko has to admit she may have underestimated Suguru's potential.

Suguru was a second born to the seat of the Geto clan, but an unknown and unnamed illness had taken both his father and older stepbrother a few years prior back together. Seeing him here didn't smooth the knots of prejudice Setsuko had against the young man; in fact, a pit in her stomach feared that he might be the denotation that would undo all her hard work. He has become prominent in social standing.

Then her eyes were thrown around, seeing how some of Sukuna's concubines were swelling with child. Another reminder of why she was also here too. Setsuko motions for you to stand next to her, "Do you see them?" She questions, her sharp eyes viewing you out of the corner. You trail after where she set her sights on, and it was the concubines. "Have you failed to do your womanly duty?" You know what she was referring to.

"We're trying." Lying through your teeth, you hope that your Aunt won't question you, but it's impossible to bypass her.

"Really? Then you would've at least had two children and swelling with another on the way." She cruelly remarks. Sometimes you wish that you weren't so grateful to her when she dehumanizes you like this. "You are the only child my brother and sister-in-law sired; that is my blood." Sometimes you are stubborn, almost like your father, to the point where Setsuko thinks if it's worth raising you and that you aren't so defective to cause a collapse in her plans. "There have been talks from the clan about sending in Kuromi and Enyaru's daughter Wakana to marry Sukuna since she's of age."

You: "For what reason?"

"To dethrone you, and they won't fully support me if you can not bear a child," Setsuko told you as a matter of fact, "I may have arranged you to marry a man that was unattainable if it weren't for Tsugahara's affection to allow me sending you in, but it's not enough to solidify to grant me a spot to become one of the Thirteen Elders of (Surname)." There were also inner conflicts within the clan that wasn't known outside; your Aunt had been competing against her half-brother Enyaru for the longest time for the seat about a decade. Their hostility to each other and the need to gather support from the clan have split them into two factions—Setsuko vs. Enyaru.

With a quick clench of your jaws, you finally realized. You're a pawn, no matter what. Maybe it was your swear great devotion to her that overridden every thought that was supposedly your own. Despite how badly she may have treated you.

"Why me? Why not one of your daughters? Mari and Aimei? They would've been a better candidate than me." You ask the daunting question, and a scoff of laughter emerges in the air.

Setsuko laughs as if you had asked the funniest question, "Mari and Aimei resemble more of their father despite their beauty, but you, you resemble me much more than those two. You're my perfect piece for taking down that old hag." Unraveling her true nature, you finally see the side that causes your Aunt to go to great lengths to acquire the revenge she has been dreaming of. "Every day, I want her to see you, and when she does, she will be reminded of me until her last breath!"

This side of your Aunt unnerves you. She looks happy to see your mother-in-law Hanami fall into demise. The pieces fall together more and more as you connect everything; you hear how your Aunt Setsuko was once a fair and bright woman in her youth who treated everyone fairly with no malice, but upon hearing Tsugahara's marriage and a scar of betrayal that hurts too much to heal properly has changed her overtime. Her smiles that were once sincere turn to hidden intentions, and words that were once uplifting have become enchanting to make people do her bidding.

Now you also understand why people who were once close to her say how you're like her younger version; they love the old her, but not this her.

You're constantly reminded that you like a breath of fresh yet familiar air.

It wasn't until your Aunt silently told you to recompose yourself before leaving your side to go back to mingle and make connections. You let the facade drop again. In your state, you felt no desire to go back to the banquet or be a pretty doll sitting and smiling; you might ruin the night with your unstable sentiments.

Most of all, you were feeling perturbed; it's becoming second nature to you as more things occupy your mind when the bitter truth is suddenly splashed on top of you like cold water. Your fate has been pre-mandated ever since your birth. You let out a quiet bitter chuckle to yourself; a part of you feels resigned, and the other is angry. Tears overwhelm your vision as it blurs.

Moving deeper into the darkness, you whisp past the countless bamboo that glows a faint blue under the moonlight. You didn't stop walking until you reached a clear opening in the middle where wildflowers grow, and the sound of people was no longer heard. Deep outside the estate, no one dares to venture this far to find solace.

Collapsing onto the flower bed, its petals ruffles and float into the air upon impact; you finally cry out everything, and both hands fist a handful of the flowers before pulling them off the ground. Angrily tossing it away, you did it a few more times before stopping, letting your hands fall onto your lap; loud sobbing echoes around and under the moon. You thought about how life is truly unfair to you. You're alone in this world.

An Aunt who only uses you to fulfill her desires and revenge for the sake of competition, bitterness, and climbing to the top. Her anguish was taken out on an innocent person like you. Sukuna, who is openly obsessed with you and loves you in his twisted way, that there were no words that can describe the tortures of it. The harem that is ready to rip you apart if one day you were to lose favor from him, your death could as well be planned too.

Then there's is... Suguru.

Yes, him.

The only person who you have only loved your entire life.

Why couldn't you be with him instead?

"(Name)?"

Tearfully turning around, you spot the dark clothing and hair of Suguru. He comes out into the open, and you break down crying again.

You: "S-Suguru."

The man kneels on one knee as he takes you into his arms and rubs soothing circles onto your back. Your arms found their natural way of embracing someone still dear to you. Right now, you don't need anything but the warmth of someone who happens to be Suguru that comes out to chase after you.

"It's okay, I am right here," he speaks softly to you. The reassurance in his voice causes you to release the tension that has been bottling up for years, and today's problems seem to have broken your dam.

"You shouldn't, you'll get in trouble," hiccupping out the words, Suguru's chest ached at the sight of you crying. His expression is filled with forlornness as he tightens his grip around you and pulls you deeper into his chest. He cradles the back of your head with a free hand, and his nose nuzzles into your hair as he shushes you. Whenever you're in pain, he does his best to take it away.

"Well, what do we have here?"

Another voice joined, and the embrace was cut short when a flurry of black, red, and gold was shining upon from the moon. Sukuna stands there with his face obscure from the direct light, but his eyes grow dangerously. Your blood ran cold.

"A man like you dares to coddle up my wife?"

Taglist: @sukunasobject @lilliansstuff @lucyrocks86 @ladywolf44005 @watyousayin @sandronebabyy @pinkrose1422 @skepticalleo @please-help-therapy-needed @whatsonthemirror @krispsprite @loser-alert @saturnknows @samidrc @littlemochi @akigoat @mxghostbee @rose4958​

[fairy-writes]

GOD KILLER

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing(s): Gojo Satoru x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): God Killer!Gojo, Female!Reader, Gore, Kidnapping (not by Gojo), Fantasy AU?? Idk how to tag this

Notes: CHANGING A LOT OF JJK LORE FOR THIS FANTASY AU (mostly how some characters die or whatever)

Also, forgive the action in this. I’m rubbish at pacing and fighting.

Will most likely continue this in a part two :)

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The man before you held a sword covered in golden ichor. The brilliant golden fluids coated his body from head to toe in a blazing glorious spray, soaking his snow-white hair. He stood over the body of a god with his back to you. You back up a step, nearly tripping over the fabric of your dress, only to step on a twig on the mossy forest floor. 

The crack of the breaking sprig is deafening in the silence. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, the man turns, and you see his eyes. 

Oh, his eyes. 

They are a brilliant icy blue and stare at you with such intensity that you feel like you’ve been stripped bare before him. As if he’s pulling all your secrets out of your feeble grasp. 

And he’s coming closer. 

You stumble backward and trip over a rock, dropping your offerings to the gods among the roots and stones as you go crashing to the ground. There’s a slight sting in the palms of your hands, but you don’t care. You scramble backward as the man all but stalks toward you with his ichor-covered sword in his hand. 

All the while, those eyes watch your every move. 

You throw up your hands in front of your face as he raises his sword in a futile attempt to protect yourself. Your eyelids squeeze shut as you pray to whatever god was listening that you would survive this to make it home to your family. 

After a second. Then two. You open your eyes. The sword is stopped a mere few centimeters from your face. You can smell the stink of the god’s blood dripping from the blade, and a drop falls onto your nose. It burns. You hurriedly wipe it off and swallow, realizing abruptly that your hands sting something fierce. 

“What are you doing here?” His voice shakes the very earth beneath your feet, and you shiver at the sound. 

“G—giving an offering to the gods.” You whisper. You had been trekking through the forest up the path on your way to the place where offerings were well… offered. 

The man rolled his eyes and scoffed, pulling out a cloth to wipe off the gold on his blade. Then he sheathes the weapon with a flick of his wrist and swats down before you. The ichor is beginning to dry in his hair, if only barely. It accentuates the blueness of his eyes, making them all the more intense. He holds out a hand, and you stare at the unblemished skin. There aren’t even any callouses. You weren’t expecting clear skin from someone who had just slain a god. 

“Give me your hands.” He says calmly, and your own hands shake as you place them palm up in his. They were scraped and bleeding. You must’ve banged them on a rock when you fell. The man reaches into a pouch at his side and pulls out a vial of clear liquid. He pulls out the stopper and dribbles a drop or two on each injured palm. 

You watch the skin melt into seamless flesh and bone, not an injury in sight. All that’s left behind is the drying blood in the crevices of your hands.

Once satisfied, the man turns your hands to check the backs and then gives you a once over to presumably make sure you weren’t injured further. He stands and turns, reaching down as he reaches the corpse and grabs it by the hair. You turn your head away as he draws his sword for a second time and cuts the corpse at the neck. The spray hits the grass in front of you, and the grass wilts. The body disintegrates into ash.

“W—wait!” You cry out and scramble to your feet. The man halts and turns only his head to look at you out of the corner of his eye. You swallow thickly and clasp your hands together in front of you, twisting your fingers together as you hope not to get killed.

“What.” It isn’t a question. It’s a demand. A demand as to why you were wasting his time.

“Why help me?” Because you have to know. The man shrugs, the ichor leaking from the stump of the decapitated head he holds in his hand. 

“Because mortals have no place in this.” He says and quite literally disappears. 

The man before you is frustratingly familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve seen him. He’s dressed more extravagantly than you’ve seen anyone dress before. But like you can’t place where you’ve seen him before, you can’t place where you’ve seen his clothes before.

An elaborate black tunic hemmed with silver, plain black pants, soft leather boots, and an intricate belt around his middle with a sword at his side. The hilt is ornate and beautiful, with the head of a dragon on the pommel and awe-striking blue gems for the dragon’s eyes. You can’t see his eyes; they were covered by a swath of bandages wrapped around them, making his hair stick up toward the sky. 

Was he a knight? 

You narrow your eyes and go to shut the front door. 

“We don’t cater to knights here.” You say quickly, and he wedges a hand between the door and the doorframe before you can shut it. 

“I just need a place to spend the night. Just for one night.” He pleads, and you roll your eyes, but not before taking note of the unblemished skin on his hand. Didn’t knights have callouses from their swordwork? Was he a fraud?

You hear your name and turn to see your father approaching, concern decorating his face.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, and you nod, forcing a smile on your face as you slam the door shut on the knight’s fingers. You can hear his pained squawk through the heavy wood. 

“Just fine. A knight was just leaving.” You reply, and your father hums, rubbing a hand through his graying beard. 

“A knight, hm?” He says teasingly, and you huff but step aside so he can open the door. 

The man is still there, cradling his injured hand and a pout prominent on his lips. You don’t have to see through his makeshift blindfold to know he’s watching you as you stand just behind your father. 

“We don’t cater to knights here.” Your father says gruffly, a stern tone indicating there was no room for argument. 

“I’m not a knight! Just a weary traveler looking for a place to spend the night!” He says indignantly, and you hide a scowl. Knight or not, you didn’t want him here.

But it was evident your father had other plans. 

It wasn’t long before the man’s horse was tied in your family stable, and he was in your home, seated at the dinner table. Your sister is by the fireplace, stirring the massive pot of stew nestled in the coals. Your two younger brothers are enamored by the man who simply calls himself “Gojo” and who you are still not entirely convinced is not a knight. 

He’s positively enraptured your brothers, regaling a story of how he killed a dragon. 

Hmph.

What a stupid thought. No one could kill a dragon!

The more you heard of Gojo’s stories, the more you believed he was telling a load of horse shit. No one could kill dragons. No one could tame unicorns or kelpies. No one could kill gods. 

At least… that’s what you wanted to believe. 

That’s what you would have believed had you not seen the man with white hair decapitate one before your very eyes. 

Wait…

You narrow your eyes and watch as Gojo gestures wildly, telling yet another story. This one about a gorgon that could turn people to stone if they looked into its eyes. 

The white hair. 

The sword. 

The bandages hiding his eyes. 

Was this the man who had killed the god?

You confront him after everyone is in bed. You go out to the stable, where he’s whispering softly to his horse. His horse is beautiful. A charger if you remembered your horses correctly. The animal is tall and white, just like his hair. It had piercing blue eyes that matched the man who had killed the god. You stand in the stables' doorway, spying your black palfrey in his stall. 

Gojo’s horse whinnies and tosses its head. Gojo turns, hand straying to the dragon-headed pommel of his sword until he spots you, wrapped in your dressing gown over your night chemise. 

“It’s dangerous for ladies like you to be out and about after dark.” He quips, and you huff out a dry laugh.

“I’m perfectly safe. I just had a question.” You say curtly, and he pats his horse on the neck before offering a flirty grin. 

“And what kind of question can I answer for the lady of the house?” He says, and you shrug, scuffing your slippered feet against the packed dirt floor.

“Have we met before?” 

“What makes you think that?” He says carefully, the same casual tone thick in his words. But you can tell it’s fake. 

“I guess I should rephrase the question.” You say, not meeting his gaze. “Are you the one who killed the god?”

Instantly, the mood changes. You can tell Gojo tightens his grip on his sword hilt and cocks his head to the side, feigning stupidity. 

“What makes you think that?” He says lowly, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. He sounds dangerous. 

“It’s just… well… you had the same hair. And the same sword, I think. It’s hard to tell when you aren’t covered in gold.” The words spill out one after another until they’re a mess of sounds that you can barely decipher. 

But Gojo doesn’t seem bothered by your word vomit. He keeps his hand on his sword but dips into a deep bow. 

“You caught me.” He says nonchalantly as if he had been caught stealing sweets from the market down the street. 

You take a step forward, and he straightens to his full height. He towers over you, and you suddenly feel very small. 

“Why? They are here to bless us, aren’t they?” You whisper, and he seems to stare at you dumbly through his bandages. 

Then he begins to laugh. 

And laugh.

And laugh. 

He holds his forehead as he giggles, and you frown. Had you said something wrong? Just as you are about to ask him what he finds so funny, his laughter stops, and he leans down until your noses almost touch. 

“Remember this little mouse.” He says, and you feel a jolt down your back. Had the temperature dropped? You could almost see the white plume of your breath. 

“Wh—”

“The gods are here for their own gain. Not for you.” He says and turns back to his horse. 

You stand there dumbfounded and blink once, then twice. The cold atmosphere dissipates, and you shiver as warmth returns to your fingertips. Gojo is back to cooing at his horse who seems unperturbed by the sudden change in mood. 

“What’s your horse’s name?” You ask suddenly, unsure as to why you are still speaking to this man. He scared you. Something deep and primordial told you to run and never see this man again. 

But that wasn’t exactly possible, seeing as he was staying at your home for the night. 

“Hm? Oh, her name? It’s Infinity.”

Gojo stays a lot longer than one night.

But, oddly enough, you find yourself not minding one bit. He entertains your younger brothers and frees up time so you can actually go to the market and get food for the week. Typically, it’s a hassle, with your father working in the fields and your brothers not yet old enough to accompany him. But with Gojo around, they obediently follow after him like baby ducks, goading him for more stories or to show them moves with his sword. 

You don’t miss how he carefully evades their questions about his past and his sword. But he’s all too eager to tell stories. 

And now that you know that he’s the one who killed the god, you find his stories all the more plausible. Had he really tamed kelpies and unicorns? Had he truly slain dragons and other gods?

You get your answer nearly a month later. 

Eclipse whinnies as you duck under a branch. For once, Brigit, down the street, has agreed to watch your brothers and give you a much-needed break from the little terrors that are your younger siblings. 

Infinity returns the sound from slightly up ahead, and you watch Gojo ride his horse easily over logs and under branches. He holds the reins in one hand, and the other rests comfortably on his sword pommel. You had noticed that he does that more often than not. Almost as if he’s anticipating a fight at every turn. 

Which judging by his stories, he likely does. 

All of a sudden, Gojo tugs the reins, and Infinity comes to a stop. Eclipse follows suit before you even have the chance to use his reins. 

“What—” Gojo cuts you off with a quick “quiet!” and tilts his head this way and that as if listening for something. 

At least… He’s listening for something until a monster jumps out from the bushes.

It’s massive and grotesque, with branches for eyes and a built white body that has the flora melting with the ooze. It has maggots falling off its bones and reeks of disaster.

“Get back!” Gojo bellows, and you flinch at the sound. It’s as if the earth has cracked open at the sound of his voice and swallowed you whole. But you yank on the reins, and Eclipse reared back with a scream.

Gojo draws his sword with a whisper of steel on leather and nudges Infinity with his heels. The white mare plunges forward into a gallop without hesitation, with complete and utter trust in her master.

Eclipse turns and gallops away, a frightened toss of his head the only indication of what he is feeling. You hold tight to the reins, ducking low over his neck to avoid being thrown off as he leaps over logs and under branches, praying to the gods the entire time. Eventually, you manage to get your horse under control to turn back.

Because, of course, you have to. You have to make sure Gojo is okay. 

But you don’t end up having to worry. Because as you draw near, you smell it. The scent of something acrid and rotting. 

The smell of something dead. 

You cover your nose with your handkerchief from your dress pocket and dismount, tying Eclipse to a tree as you carefully pick your way over the growing carnage. 

Because that’s what it is. 

All you see are the hacked-apart bits of the body. Every slice is clean, but the creature is cut to ribbons. You feel some of the organs squish under your shoes, and for once, you’re grateful you’re wearing trousers and riding boots rather than your everyday dresses and slippers.

But there’s something wrong. 

The blood is black as tar and just as thick, too. Your boots start to steam and you realize very quickly it’s eating through the stiff leather. You scramble on top of a rock and kick off your boots. They quite literally melt into the sludge with a hiss. You blink and look around you and spot Gojo.

His side profile is just as messy as the surrounding area. But his skin isn’t steaming with the black ichor, nor is it melting off. He’s simply… fine. As is Infinity. She’s nosing around in the blood as if looking for sugar cubes amongst the massacre.

Gojo notices you staring. He sheaths his sword and meanders his way over.

“Are you okay?” You blurt, and he stops, barking out a surprised laugh.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that little mouse? You’re the one without shoes at the moment.” He says teasingly, and you feel your ears burn as you cough awkwardly.

“It was either that or lose my feet entirely.” You retort, and he just grins, then whistles for Infinity to come over. Her coat is pristine white save for her muzzle, which is covered in black.

Had she been… eating the corpse?

You were too scared to ask.

Something was off about Gojo and his horse.

And you were going to get to the bottom of it.

It doesn’t take long for him to scoop you up princess-style in his arms and deposit you onto Infinity’s back. You gripped tightly to the reins and saddle horn as he led his war horse through the slaughter toward where Eclipse was waiting.

“What was that?” You end up asking as you mount your own horse, and you both set off down the trail back toward your home. Gojo is quiet for once, not prattling on and filling the silence as he watches the terrain with careful, bandaged eyes.

“A fallen god.” He says eventually, and you tug Eclipse to a stop. Infinity goes several more paces before realizing that her friend isn’t following her and stops as well, ears flicking in confusion.

“… Such a thing exists?” You whisper, and he nods, turning his steed around and making his way back to your side. 

“Yes. If enough people stop praying to them, they fall from grace. Sometimes they change form, like that one did, and some don’t.” He says, gently working the reins from your ironclad grip and leading your horse onward.

You don’t say another word the rest of the way home.

You are interrupted in your nightly prayers by a noise from the entryway.

Frowning, you end your prayer and get to your feet, leaving the altar with your offerings and pad with bare feet to the entrance of the prayer room.

You were alone. Or at least you should’ve been.

The stone floor is cold against your toes, and you quickly press yourself against the wall of the shrine as a shadow creeps into the doorway. The monster is short with a strangely shaped head and only one eye. 

And that one eye is staring directly at you.

The scream ripped from your throat wakes the birds nesting in the trees, and they scatter with an eruption of feathers and panic. You turn and run, nearly tripping over the hem of your chemise in your haste to get away.

But the hand on your wrist is scorching hot and rough with callouses. You scream again and kick at the knees of the demonic being with the ferocity of an unbroken horse. But it’s useless. The thing simply hauls you close with your arms pinned behind your back and grins with blackened teeth.

“Oh yes, you’ll do quite nicely.”

Contrary to what you thought would happen, you aren’t killed immediately. Instead, you were bound and taken to a cave on the north side of the mountain, opposite where you lived. The creature—was it a fallen god?—kept you within arms reach so if you decided to run, it could easily grab you.

But it wasn’t alone. 

There was a massive sea creature covered in a white cloth and a patchwork man who watched you with an interested look in his eyes. He all but skips closer and leans down, where you’re tossed unceremoniously against the cave wall. 

“Is this little thing really going to lure the God Killer out? She’s so tiny!” He complains, and the one-eyed creature scoffs,

“Of course she is. She was there when Hanami was killed.” It snaps. Should you be calling it a he? You had no idea. 

You flinch when the patchwork man grins a grin that has your skin crawling.

“I do hope the God Killer will come to rescue you. I’ve been itching for a good fight.” He muses, and you can only hope and pray that you are saved before he gets bored. 

Days pass. 

You are kept in the back of the cave, wrists and ankles bound, gagged, and watched in everything you do. Any movement was scrutinized and sometimes even punished, so you learned quickly to keep still and not say anything. 

But it doesn’t take long for the patchwork man to grow weary of waiting and to start to complain. 

At first, it was harmless. 

He’d throw himself around and whine about how bored he was getting, how he wanted the God Killer to show up, and how he wanted things to get exciting. He went on and on until he seemingly remembered that you existed and turned with a look on his face that you did not like. 

He reaches forward, grabs ahold of your tied hands (none too gently, mind you), and pulls you into a half-standing position. 

“How about we speed things up a bit, hm?” He grins, showing more teeth than a human should have. You pull away and cry out through the dirty rag stuffed in your mouth, but days without food nor water have made you weak, so fighting back is not an option. 

“Mahito! Put her down! The God Killer isn’t here yet!” The one-eyed being snaps. You had learned on the second day that his name was Jogo. He wasn’t kind. On the contrary, he had backhanded you more than once for trying to escape. A bruise swelled your cheek until it was tender and painful. But at least he didn’t look like he was about to kill you.

“But—” The sea creature burbled, and a bubble popped. Mahito let out a whine and leaned on the sea creature.

“But nothing! We—” Jogo was cut off by a noise. 

A twig breaking.

The trio froze in their tracks, and you look toward the mouth of the cave. 

Was it a wolf? Some sort of predator? You were positive any animal was staying far away from where you were. Something about the presence these three exuded. 

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, and the temperature drops. 

Was this…?

The ground cracks open, and hell spills forth in a torrent of wrath and rampage. 

Gojo rides out of the crack in the ground on the back of Infinity, wielding his dragon-headed sword, face twisted with fury and blue eyes darkened with rage. 

But something is strange…

You watch as the air in front of Infinity’s forehead shimmers, and a horn fades into existence. 

Was she a unicorn?

Gojo had said he had learned how to tame them…

The charger opened her mouth and screamed, exposing elongated canines that dripped with blood and spittle. 

Any semblance of cohesiveness from your captors dissolved at the sight of Gojo. 

The God Killer. 

Your savior. 

Gojo spots you. His eyes soften to a degree, and his harsh frown fades ever so slightly. 

“Did y’miss me?” He says with a quirk of the lips, and you start to cry. The God Killer dismounts and enters the cave. 

Jogo throws a hand forward with a cry of madness, and molten rock surges around Gojo’s feet but halts just at his heels. Gojo’s smile turns sardonic.

“Really? That’s the best you got?” He sneers and with a flick of the wrist, decapitates the one-eyed creature. 

The sea creature and Mahito back up a step before Mahito’s arm changes into a wickedly sharp blade, and suddenly, there’s a sword at your chin, and his other hand fists in your nightgown. He hauls you up into a standing position and backs up toward the back cave wall, where you know there’s a secret exit. 

They make it three paces before Gojo seemingly materializes behind you. The cave ceiling is so low that he almost has to duck to avoid hitting his head. But the God Killer doesn’t seem to care about hitting his head. He tightens his grip on the hilt of his sword and swings. Mohito blocks with a clumsy attempt at a parry and quickly drops you. You duck under their swinging blades and scramble toward where Infinity is waiting. 

You can almost touch her muzzle when something wraps around your ankles and yanks you to the ground. Your hair gets in your mouth, and you can taste blood as your face slams into the stone. 

Your nose is broken. You’re sure of it. Crimson gushes down your face as you turn to see what had tripped you. 

The sea creature. 

It has a tentacle wrapped firmly around your ankles, dragging you toward its open maw. Panic sets in, and you begin to struggle. Kicking and scratching what you can reach with your nails. The tentacles reach further up your body until they cover your nose, and you can no longer breathe.

Dark spots begin to swim in your vision after a few seconds, and your limbs feel like lead. Was there some kind of poison in the tentacles? Was that a thing? 

There’s a sharp whinny, and Infinity quite literally skewers the creature with her horn. It dies with a squeal, and you have to look away as she begins to eat it. Literally, she begins to tear at the corpse with her sharpened teeth. 

However, it’s the last thing you see as blackness overtakes your vision, and you pass out. 

You come to what seems like an eternity later, and you are astride Infinity with Gojo holding you steady in his arms. He has his bandages on again, hiding those brilliant blue eyes from your line of sight. He keeps his gaze pointed forward as he navigates through the rough terrain, though he does look down at you when he realizes you’re awake and grins.

“Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty returning to the land of the living!” He cheers, and you wince at the volume. 

“What happened?” You mumble, and he shrugs,

“You got kidnapped. I saved you.” He says proudly, as if he were a child who had just solved a difficult problem. 

Abruptly, you realize something.

“Were they all killed? Jogo and them, I mean.” You ask hurriedly, fear welling up when Gojo doesn’t reply right away. You reach up and grip his broad shoulder, shaking him lightly.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.” Is all he says, and spurs Infinity into a canter. 

You grab ahold of the reins and yank Inifinity to a stop. She lets out a discouraged neigh but stops nonetheless.

“Gojo, what happened to them. I saw you kill the one-eyed thing, and Infinity killed the other one, but what of the patchwork man?” You demand, and he grunts, dipping his head so his chin touches his chest. 

“He got away.” He snarls suddenly, and you flinch. 

“Were they all—”

“Fallen gods? Yes.” He cuts you off abruptly, and you can feel Infinity tense below you with her master’s anger.

You reach up and touch his face, just under the bandages wrapping his eyes. He tenses, even flinches a little, and stills. You loosen the wrappings and pull them down around his neck so he can look you in the eye unimpeded. His earth-shattering eyes are swimming with anger. 

But not at you. 

At himself.

You offer what you hope is a comforting smile.

“You saved my life. You’ll find him. I’m sure of it.” You say quietly, and he sighs, leaning down so his forehead bumps yours. Your smile turns into a grin as his own lips stretch into something soft and warm. 

“Thank you, little mouse.”

[hellowhisperingstars]

Chapter Thirteen: The Wedding

Summary: The big day has arrived! Will Eddie be able to get to you in time?

Pairing: Rockstar/Bar Owner!Eddie Munson x Baker!Reader

Words: 11.5K

Warnings: 18+, Y/N used, tiny time skip, over use of pet names, weddings, smut, hair pulling, one thigh slap, thigh riding, p in v sex, no condom (wrap it kids), light bondage, belt for cuffs, hand over mouth gag, semi-rough sex, clit slapping, Peter (He gets his own warning now), mentions the word rape (No rape or SA actually happens), I think that's it. Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I ran out of steam for a bit and then I got engaged! Anywhosel, here is chapter thirteen! Please let me know what you think!

Likes, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! <3

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! I will be double checking if you have your age in your bios! AGELESS OR BLANK BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST!

Previous - Masterlist - Forward

Time was a strange thing. Sometimes days felt like they went on for years and hours felt like they went by in a blink of an eye. These last three weeks had gone by so fast, too fast and now you found yourself in some ritzy hotel in Chicago that you didn’t even know the name of. Tomorrow your life is going to be ruined forever. Cause unless Eddie’s plan is good to go you would be the new Mrs. Malloy and most likely be stuck here in a town you don’t know, with no one around but Peter and his parents.

Sighing, you laid back on the large bed of your hotel room and pulled the necklace Eddie had given you from the pocket of your rehearsal dress and held it in between your fingers, in the dark the necklace looked just like the one you had worn when he went to New York, but since then you’ve learned that it wasn’t the same at all. The pick was still red but it was made from a red stone that had been shaved down to the size and thickness of the plastic one he had around his neck and he had had a cupcake engraved in gold in the center of it. A symbol for the both of you, the baker and the rockstar.

Slowly you brush your fingertips gently over the little golden sweet and smile sadly. You missed him. You hadn’t been able to see Eddie up close since the night he jumped the fence into your dads backyard, but almost every night you would look out your window and see him sitting in his busted old van just watching over you. Like some metalhead guardian angel. You had wanted so badly to just run to his car and let him drive off. But he had asked you to play the part just a little longer. But how long did he expect you to play along? Was he going to end up crashing the honeymoon?

You heard the lock on your door beep and you quickly shoved the necklace back into your pocket. Ever since he had given it to you you hadn’t wanted to part with it. Sitting up you fixed your hair so it didn’t look messy and looked up as your dad walked closer to you. 

“The car is here.” He said as he fixed a cufflink on his white shirt. Looking up through his lashes at you, he nodded. “You look nice.”

Cocking your head to the side you stared at him in surprise, that was the first compliment your father has given you since. God. High school? “Are you okay?”

He gave you a curious look. 

“You gave me a compliment…”

You watched as he rolled his eyes and waved his hand at you. “Come on before we’re late. We’re meeting everyone at the church for the rehearsal. Evelyn’s already there with the Malloy’s.”

Standing from the bed you run your hand over the back of your dress to hopefully get some of the wrinkles out and follow your father from the room making sure to pocket your keycard as you move past the dresser. Letting the door to your hotel room close behind you, you and your dad walk to the elevator listening to it climb up to your floor, the little ding that announced its arrival was loud in the small hallway. The two of you climbed on and with a punch of the button your ride down to the busy lobby was quick.

It was as you were following your dad through the lobby and towards the entrance that you got knocked into by someone, their hands reached out and grabbed your arm to keep you from falling, a quiet sorry leaving their lips. You knew that voice. Glancing at them your eyes went wide and your heartbeat a little faster as you looked at Lizzy. She gave you a quick wink as she dropped your arm and wandered away through the crowded lobby, getting lost in the sea of people. Lizzy was here. Did that mean Eddie was here too? Jeff? Steve? Giving a quick look around you didn’t see any more familiar faces and your dad looked back at you giving you an annoyed look. “Hurry up.”

“Sorry,” You muttered and started to move again heading towards the car your dad was standing at. Carefully you climbed into the black car and scooted into your seat, your brows pinching together when you felt a heaviness to one of your pockets that wasn't there before, slipping your hand inside you grabbed the object pulling it out slowly to see it was your phone. The cell that Eddie had bought you. Lizzy had slipped it into your pocket when you bumped into each other. Holy shit you could kiss that girl. 

You shoved it back into your dress as your dad got in after you. You barely listened as he gave the name of the church to the driver, you had too much going on in your head. If Lizzy was here that means Eddie had to be here right? He had to be. 

“Well?” Eddie asked nervously as he watched Lizzy saunter over looking very much like the cat that got the cream. When he wasn't busy with Dan doing all the legal stuff Eddie had been teaching Lizzy to reverse pickpocket. He needed to get you the phone that way no one can listen in. Shit he'd pay for texts if he needed to. 

“In her pocket just like you taught me.” She chirped as she bounced on her toes.

“Atta girl!” Eddie said as he picked her up, giving her a little spin that made her laugh. Once he set her back down on her feet he gave her a kiss to her cheek with a loud MUA sound. “I knew you could do it!”

Lizzy lit up at the praise. Sure it wasn't the same feeling as when Jeff told her that she was a good girl but praise was praise. Her heart fluttered as Jeff pulled her between his legs giving her a sweet kiss. “That's my girl. You deserve a drink.” 

“Yes!” She cheered her hand going up into the air making the men chuckle.

Steve walked up to the group as they sat at the bar of the hotel. Handing out room keys to everyone. “Okay, we are checked in for the night. She get the phone?”

“Mhm!” Lizzy nodded. 

“Awesome!” Smiling Steve looked at them all. “Robin and Ada are driving back to Hawkins right now, Alice let them in and helped them pack Y/N’s things from her room at her dad's place. We just need Y/N to call Eddie so he can tell her what to do.”  

“I'll make sure she packs her bags tonight so Jeff and Lizzy can grab them from her room tomorrow, so we don't have to come back here.” Eddie said, rubbing his hands together with nerves. This was going to work. It had too.

“Everything is set for tomorrow on my end,” Dan said as he put his tumbler down, the ice clicking against the glass as he did. “I have all the paperwork with me. Once the priest asks for an objection Steve’ll serve them and grab her. Then the three of us will meet you all back in Hawkins.” 

“I'm staying," Eddie said, shaking his head. He wasn't leaving here without you in his arms. 

Dan thought about arguing but seeing the stubborn look on the man's face he sighed. “Fine. But you follow my rules.”

“Always do.” Eddie smiles at his old dom who just rolled his eyes and muttered about what a liar he was.  

“So now we wait.” Jeff said as he passed the promised drink to Lizzy who was still standing between his open knees. “How’d she look?”

“Tired.” She said, swallowing her mouthful of liquor. “Her dad seemed like they were in a hurry.”

“It’s the rehearsal dinner tonight.” Steve said his hands on his hips. “My parents are there.”

“Why aren’t you with them?” Jeff asked.

“I wasn’t invited.” He shrugged. He wasn’t even remotely hurt about not being invited. “I think it’s because they know I would object. She hates Peter and I know she would never willingly marry him. And they don’t want anyone to ruin their deal.”

“They’re going to be in for one hell of a surprise tomorrow.” Dan muttered, running his large hand over the scruff on his chin. 

They all nodded in agreement. Eddie ran his hand over his face. Just a few more hours and you would be in his arms again. 

The phone was burning a hole in your pocket as you felt the heaviness of it weighing you down. You just wanted to turn it on and call Eddie, have him spirit you away from this stupid car. Staring out the window you tried to count all the cars that passed to distract yourself. You lost count after ten when you saw a car that was the most vibrant pink you had ever seen. 

“... to everything he says.” Your dads voice slowly tunes back in as he looks up at you from his phone. “Y/N? Are you even listening?”

Snapping your head over to look at him you blinked a few times trying to figure out what he was saying. “I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

Sighing with annoyance he rolled his eyes again, his voice much gruffer this time as he repeated. “I said if the priest asks you questions you need to agree with everything he says. You know what’s on the line if you don’t.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled as you looked back out of the window. You know all too well what he was holding over your head, Eddie’s reputation and future.

Within minutes you were pulling into the parking lot of the church, it was a tall intimidating structure with stained glass windows of Jesus and the Apostles. Coming to a stop you waited until your father got out before you followed his lead, looking up the window you swallowed as the glass version of the lord himself seemed to stare right into your soul, witnessing all of your hidden sins. Shaking your head you moved quickly to catch up to your dad as he moved towards the double doors at the front of the church. 

“Lewis,” Your dad said as he put his hand out for him to shake. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“No,” Mr. Malloy smiled as he shook your fathers hand. “We just got here ourselves.” 

Turning to you he smiled a little wider. “Y/N, you look beautiful. Everyone is inside with Father Michaels.”

“Thank you,” You nodded, giving him a weak smile before you moved up the short steps and into the church. Inside the feeling of intimidation got worse, you’ve never been religious, and you felt like all the stained glass and stone men and women were judging you as you stepped closer to the small group huddled by the altar. Slowly, you walked through the center aisle, the empty wooden pews on either side of you making you feel claustrophobic. 

“Ah, there she is.” Peter said with a smile as he looked up at you. “My lovely wife to be.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Malloy said as she held her hand out for you with a bright smile on her face. “You’re just in time! Father Michaels this is Y/N, our bride.”

The priest looked up at you with a pleasant smile. From the look of him, he couldn’t be that much older than you, mid to late thirties if you had to guess. Handsome in a classic way, with steel gray eyes, and short blond hair. His black priest attire with the white collar set him out from the rest with their colorful dresses and shirts. Once you were close enough he held his hand out for you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.” You smiled as he held your hand between the two of his. “The church is beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He said politely. “The Sisters and I try very hard to keep the church presentable.”

“It shows.” You take your hand back when he lets it go and you pause a moment to look at who's all here. Of course the usual suspects were here, your father, Evelyn, and the Malloy’s. But there were six people over to the side by Peter that you hadn’t met yet and you narrowed your eyes at one of the men that was staring at you until he looked away. That must be your bridal party. 

“Sweetheart,” Peter said, waving you over. You still felt your skin crawl when he called you that but you walked over nonetheless after you excused yourself from Father Michaels. “Let me introduce you to your bridesmaids, my cousins, Ellie, Zoe, and Kayla and these are my groomsmen Patrick, Cliff, and Tony. We went to college together.”

“Hi.” You said giving them your perfectly practiced forced smile. You chatted idly with them as you waited a few minutes for the wedding planner your stepmother told you about the night before to show up.

Soon the church door opened and a lady in a fancy suit rushed in. “So sorry I’m late! Traffic was a monster coming from my office!”

As she moved quickly up the aisle she looked over everyone and stopped on you, her hand coming out to shake yours. “You must be the bride! It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Leslie, I’ll be your wedding planner. Charlotte and Evelyn told me all about you!”

‘Funny,’ You thought as you shook her hand. ‘They didn’t say shit about you.’ “Nice to meet you.”

“Are we all ready to get started?” She asked as she looked around. When she got confirming nods she smiled clasping her hands together. “Great!”

For the next hour or so you let Leslie instruct you on where to stand, how to stand, when to walk up and down the aisle to and from the altar. With one last practice run you held in the sigh as you once more wrapped your arm around your dads as you stood outside of the church doors waiting for them to open so you could take the long walk to your soon to be husband who you hated.

“I know you don’t see it,” He said, breaking the tense silence between the two of you. Neither of you looked at each other choosing to stare straight ahead at the closed doors. “But I know you could be happy with Peter. With the money that the Malloy’s have, your future is secured and the new company we are starting you’d never have to lift a finger.”

“I like working.” You mutter back. “I loved my life. I loved my bakery, my friends, and I love Eddie. I don’t want the money or whatever you think the Malloy’s can offer me. I want to live my life on my own terms and I hate you for taking those away from me… I want you to know that when this is over I never want to see you again.”

You felt him move to look at you and you held your head high as you turned to look him in the eye. For one split second it looked like he was really considering what you said before he nodded his head and turned to look at the doors back to his no nonsense demeanor. “I think that would be for the best.”

Your chest felt tight again as the doors opened and you continued the rehearsal. You didn’t talk to your father for the rest of the night.

The rehearsal dinner went just as you thought it did. Everyone chatted, laughed, and had a great time. You barely touched your food but you smiled and played the part waving off your lack of appetite as ‘just nerves’. Looking down the table you narrowed your eyes at your aunt and uncle. They were here without Steve. You missed your cousin, you should have left with him that day he found you in the dining room. But here you sat dodging Peter’s little touches as best you could all the while listening to speeches from your bridal party, who you didn't know, talking about you like you were old friends and how happy you made Peter. You even had to sit through Mr. Malloy’s speech on how proud he was of Peter and all his accomplishments, how he was just overjoyed with gaining a daughter as he welcomed you into the family. He ended the speech with a playful joke about grandchildren that made you want to yell at him. 

By the time dinner was done you were more than ready to be back in your room at the hotel where you could scream into a pillow and maybe drown yourself in a few of those little liquor bottles in the mini fridge, hell, or all of them you weren't paying for the room. You bid farewell to everyone and when Peter went in for a kiss you turned your head at the last minute so he had to kiss your cheek. You didn’t want his lips on you at all so instead you smiled at him in your fake manner and said “See you tomorrow” before you joined your dad and Evelyn in the black rental car as the three of you made your way back to the hotel. The drive was much faster this round since the restaurant was closer than the church was and for that you were grateful.

Once back at the hotel you gave your dad and stepmother a quick goodnight and made a beeline for the elevator wanting to put as much space between the three of you as possible. You tapped your foot impatiently as you waited and when the announcing ding got your attention you stepped on pressing the number for your floor a little harder than you meant to. The doors closed and the lift started to move. You felt like you could finally take a breath as you leaned back against the wall, putting your hands in the pockets of your dress when your hand closed around something. The phone! Whipping it out you turned it on and waited impatiently for it to start up the Nokia brand screen taking exactly twenty years to go away. You have never hated the tiny picture of those two hands reaching for each other more than you did right now. 

The elevator dinged announcing your arrival at your floor and you stepped out, moving quickly down the hall to your room, pulling the keycard from your pocket. You heard the door unlock and practically kicked your door down before you rushed in. It was as you were scrolling through your contacts that a voicemail notification popped up. With just a press of a few buttons you dialed your voicemail and held the phone to your ear.

“You have one new voice message.” The robot told you. “New Message.”

“Hey baby,” Eddie’s voice started to play and it made tears come to your eyes. “If you're listening to this, that means Lizzy was able to get you the phone. We have a plan and I promise you by tomorrow night you’ll be home with me. I’ll explain everything but I want to tell you in person. We are staying at the same hotel. Room six zero seven. Come by when you get this. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

The robot spoke again, disrupting your glee of hearing Eddie’s voice. “End of message. There are no more messages.” 

Ending the call you shoved the phone and the keycard back into your pockets and ran from your room listening as the door slammed shut behind you. Back at the elevator you bounced on your toes as you waited for that tell tale ding of it’s arrival and when it did you pushed the button for the sixth floor so many times you didn’t even care if you broke it. This ride was quicker since it was only two floors below you and you all but threw yourself out of the elevator looking at the room plaques until you found the one he said. Room six zero seven. Hands shaking with adrenaline, you knocked loudly on the door looking around to make sure no one was in the hall with you as you waited. 

The door swung open and there he was, Eddie. He took your breath away when he smiled at you and you wasted no time jumping into his open arms. You clung to him as the tears you were holding back finally pushed through, you felt safe when he wrapped his arms around you, you didn’t even notice when he started walking backwards into the room with you so the door could close. He shoved his nose into your hair whispering to you the whole time you cried. “I got you. I got you baby. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Breathe. Just breathe.”

It took you a few minutes to get yourself to calm down and when you did you leaned back so you could look up at him. He was here. In Chicago. “Y-you’re h-h-here.” 

“I’m here. I’m real.” He said softly as he brushed away the tears still lingering on your bottom lashes and cheeks with his thumbs. “Take a deep breath for me babe.”

Closing your eyes you did what he asked and when you felt a little calmer you opened your eyes again and looked at him, a smile on your face. “Hi.”

“Hi beautiful.” Eddie whispered his hands cupping your cheeks as he pulled you in for a kiss. “Fuck, I've missed you.” 

“Missed you too,” You mumbled against his lips as you kissed him back. 

A cough got your attention and you pulled back to look around Eddie at the new voice. At the table sat Daniel Christianson, he made the chair and the table look incredibly small next to his big frame, but he smiled politely at you as he stood up walking over to you both. "Edward. Aren't you going to introduce us?"

“Oh shit yeah,” Eddie nodded, looking a little scolded for his lack of thought. Moving around you he wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his chin on your shoulder so he could look at Dan. “Dan this is Y/N. Y/N this is Dan.” 

“You're a lot bigger than your photos make you seem.” You said stupidly as you looked up at him. He was very intimidating. 

He laughed as he nodded his head. “I get that alot. It's nice to meet you in person.”

“You as well.”

“Now that the introductions are done,” Eddie said as he grabbed your hips and steered you over to the bed so you could sit down while he took a seat a little behind you on the bed. “We have a lot to talk about. Mainly what’s happening tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Daniel said as he moved back to the chair he was sitting in before. “What can you tell us about tomorrow? What time is everything starting?”

“I have to be up early to get to the church and be ready by ten. We are apparently taking photos from ten-thirty to like eleven-thirty and then the wedding starts at twelve.” You mutter as you thought back to what Leslie had told you earlier. “Please tell me I don't have to do all that.” 

“Unfortunately, you do.” Dan sighed as he leaned forward, his hand clasping between his knees. “My plan is to have Steve object when the priest asks and let him serve them the papers right then and there. Out your father and the Malloy’s on their shady bullshit in front of all their family and their friends.” 

“Steve’s here?” You asked, watching the older man nod. You knew your cousin wouldn't let you down. Then what he said really sunk in. “Wait at the church? He's not going to like that…” You said, shaking your head, looking back over your shoulder at Eddie, you gave him a pleading look. “Can't we just leave tonight? Bypass all of this?” 

“I'm sorry babe.” He said with a shake of his head. “I promise that as soon as the papers are handed over you are out of there. Tonight I need you to pack your things. You need to get your room key to Lizzy in the morning so she and Jeff can go in and grab your bags. That way you don't have to come back here, we can just go straight home."

“How am I supposed to get it to Lizzy?” You questioned and flopped backward on the bed to stare at the ceiling. Eddie's chuckle at your dramatics made you smile as he leaned over you propping himself up with one elbow. 

“The same way you got the phone today. Have it in your pocket and Lizzy will bump into you and take it. We just need a room number.” 

You told them your room number and Dan wrote it down on a scrap piece of paper. “I have a few more things to get ready for tomorrow. I'll leave you two alone.” 

He looked at you then with a small smile. “When we get back to Hawkins tomorrow I'm going to need a complete rundown of everything that's happened, okay? I need your testimony for our case.” 

“Okay,” You nodded, as you looked up at him. 

Giving you a little nod he touched your knee politely before dropping his hand on Eddie’s shoulder giving it a little squeeze. “See you both tomorrow.” He said as he moved towards the door. 

Eddie looked down at you as the door closed behind Dan. He smiled as you turned onto your side and curled into his chest. “Baby? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You mumbled. “I’m scared about what's going to happen tomorrow. Embarrassing my dad so blatantly in front of everyone…”

“Don’t worry about that.” Eddie said as he played with your hair, “All you need to worry about right now is us.”

“There’s still an ‘us’ huh?” You smiled, knowing how many hours he sat in his van outside your dad’s home. “Thought you would have found someone else by now.”

“I don't want anyone else. I only want you.” He whispered with a shake of his head as he moved to press his forehead against your temple still holding himself over you with his elbow. “Only you. Since that night you showed up in my bar in your little black dress and those heels.”

You let out a little giggle as you touched him, your fingers gripping the front of his shirt for dear life. Like if you let him go you'd float away. 

“Do you know how much I missed you while we were separated?” Eddie whispered into your ear as he pulled you close.

You shook your head. 

“You were all I thought about.” He continued, his hand running up and down your spine. You felt so good in his arms. “To be completely honest with you, I spiraled. I was drunk every day until Steve came back and told me everything. Sobered up real quick after that.” 

"I missed you a lot too. I thought I would never see you again. That I was going to be locked away in some fancy bachelor pad for the rest of my life." 

"We don't have to worry about that anymore." Kissing your temple his hand wandered down to hold your hip, resting on it gently. “Have you been eating okay?”

Closing your eyes you make a face into his chest and stay quiet. 

“I’m taking your silence as a no,” Eddie sighed as he squeezed your hip. 

“I’ve tried,” You mutter. “I just end up feeling sick all the time. I barely even get hungry anymore. I know that as soon as life gets back to normal that’ll change but it’s been… bad. I kinda threw my three drink rule out the window. But you should thank Alice and Daniel at my dad's house, they kinda force fed me.”

“I’m going to pay for them to go on a long vacation.” He chuckled as he felt you smile into his chest. “Shit maybe I can convince them to come work for me. I’ll pay them more then what your dad does.”

After that the two of you laid there for a while, enjoying one another’s presence as you whispered to each other, catching up on all the time that you lost. When over an hour passed you sighed cuddling closer to him as he ran his hand up and down your arm. “I don’t want to go back to my room. But Evelyn is picking me up in the morning and I still need to pack my stuff.”

Eddie groaned as he pulled your head back a little by your hair so he could kiss you. “It’ll be okay, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“You better,” You nod as you kiss him again. “I’ll have Steve kick your ass if you're not.” 

“I would love to see him try, honestly,” He laughed as he pulled away and sat up, moving off the bed and offering you his hand so he could help you up. Once your hand was on his he pulled you to your feet and hugged you close again. "I love you sweetheart. I love you so fucking much.” 

“I love you too.” You said into his shoulder. “Tell me again… that it'll be okay…” 

“It'll be okay.” Eddie said as he smashed his face into your hair taking a deep breath to remember the scent of your shampoo. He missed this smell. “I'll see you at noon tomorrow. Make sure to put your key in your pocket for Lizzy to grab.” 

“I will.” You nod a little. He let you cling to him for a little longer before you finally had to let go and head back up to your room. You held his hand until the last possible second and he watched from his door as you wandered down the hallway back towards the elevators. You sighed as you leaned back against the wall of the elevator as it moved up the two floors. Eddie was here and he was going to take you home. You smiled for the first time in what felt like ages, a huge honest to god smile. The ding announced your arrival at your floor and you felt like you were walking on air as you exited the lift. You were going home with Eddie tomorrow!

You quickly made your way down the hall to your room and unlocked it, you needed to pack everything you didn’t need for tomorrow. After you changed into your pajamas you grabbed your suitcase from the closet and started to buzz around your room. You were meticulous about making sure you got every little thing you brought with you, no sock left behind. It’s as you were zipping up your bag that a knock came from your door. Standing up straight you looked at the door for a moment before you moved towards it. Maybe Eddie had a question? Opening the door you peeked your head around the side. “Yes?”

Peter smiled at you from where he stood on the other side leaning his arm on the frame. “Well, good evening.” 

“Peter,” You huffed, upset it wasn’t who you wanted it to be. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

“I think you and I are above such superstitions don’t you?” Peter asked as he leaned against the door frame to look down at you. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

You looked down at the floor for a moment contemplating what to do. You didn’t really want to invite him in but you also didn’t want to hear it from your dad that you didn’t, after all you still had to spend the entire morning with him, Evelyn, and Peter’s mother and cousins. Slowly you opened the door wider for him. You sighed as he entered the room and you let the door close

behind him as he sat on your bed. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

“I just wanted to check on you.” He said as he leaned back against the mattress making himself at home. “You seemed a little off at the rehearsal dinner.”

“I’m fine.” You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest. “Just tired. We have a long day tomorrow so…”

“I was hoping we could spend the night together.” He said as he leaned his head to the side to look at you. “After tomorrow we’ll be sleeping next to each other for a very long time.”

‘That’s what you think.’ You thought to yourself as you shook your head. “No, I’m sorry but I’m not ready for that jump in our relationship yet.”

“It’s not such a big deal,” He shrugged. “It’s just sleeping.”

You had a feeling it would be much more than just sleeping. It made your stomach turn. You shook your head again. “I really feel like we should wai-”

“We are going to be married tomorrow.” Peter said starting to get more frustrated with you. “I just want to get closer to you. Is that so bad?”

You didn't want to and for once you weren’t going to bend over backwards for him. “Yes, it is. I don't want you here and I don't want to be closer to you. I'm only marrying you because I have to. So… please… leave. Now.” 

Moving to the room door you opened it for him and glared until he got off the bed. “You're kicking me out? The night before our wedding?” Narrowing his eyes he stalked towards you. “It's that rockstar isn't it? Munson?”

“Fuck. Off.” You hissed. Narrowing your own eyes at him. 

He was angry. You finally pushed him enough. His hands moved faster than you could see and in a flash he was grabbing you by your upper arms pulling you chest to chest with him. His breathing ragged as he glared down at you. “What if I don't?”

“I'll scream so loud that the entire hotel will hear me.” You tried to hide your wince when his hands squeezed harder. You knew bruises will be there tomorrow, but you didn't care. “Your true self is finally coming out huh? Feeling a little rapey?”

Huffing, he dropped your arms and he took a step back using his hands to fix his hair before he gave you a pointed stare and left your room. “I'll see you at the end of that aisle and tomorrow night… you won't be able to deny me.” 

“I'd rather die than let you fuck me.” You said before you slammed the door in his face and locked it. With shaking hands you stepped away from the door and felt your legs give out as the adrenaline rushed through your system. You did it. You don't just tell him how much you hate him like at your engagement party but you flat out denied him. You felt almost giddy. Light for the first time in what felt like months. 

It took you a few minutes but when you were finally able to stand again there was only one thing you wanted to do. See Eddie. Scrambling around your room for your keycard you grabbed it and raced from your room not even bothering to put your shoes on as you ran down the hall. You pressed the elevator button as you bounced on your toes but it was too slow. Looking to your left you saw the door for the stairwell and ran towards it pushing the door open descending the stairs as quickly as you could without falling over until you reached Eddie's floor. Throwing the door open you ran down the hallway like a monster was chasing you, soon you were at his door again. Knocking frantically you tried to steady your breathing as he opened the door.

“Y/N?” He asked as he grabbed your hand pulling you into the room with him, his hands coming up to cup your warm cheeks. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Nodding your head you took a few deep breaths as you bunched his shirt up in your fists. “I-I-I got back to my room and packed like you told me too an-an-and Peter showed up. He wanted to spend the night, but I told him to fuck off. He was so pissed.”

“Did he hurt you?” 

“No.”

You gave an adrenaline laced giggle as you looked up at him. “After that I just wanted to see you.”

Eddie felt pride swell in his chest for you. He kissed you. Hard. It was teeth and tongue and everything you missed. Pulling away from you he pushed his forehead against yours. 

“I love you.” You muttered against his lips, your eyes closed, you could hear the blood pumping through your veins. “I need you to fuck me. Hard. Please Eddie. Please.”

“Fuck sweetheart,” He groaned as he dropped his hands down to your waist. Giving you a cheeky smile he looked you over. “I don’t know… I don’t fuck engaged women.” 

You knew he was messing with you, so you pushed him back a little and walked him backwards towards the bed giving him a gentle shovel so he would land on the mattress. Climbing up onto his lap you straddle his thighs as you play with the pick on the chain around his neck. “I promise my shitty fiance won’t find out.”

Eddie smirked as he leaned back on his elbows watching as you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up over your head before you tossed it and your keycard to the side. God, he missed this. He missed you. Licking his lips he sat back up so he was even with your chest, his plush lips kissing at your sternum. “How do you want this baby?”

“Be mean to me… Sir.” You gasped out his title as his hands moved up over your sides to your breasts pinching your nipples between his calloused fingers. 

“Fuck.” He whispered before he bit into the fat on the side of one of your breasts, sucking a deep bruise into it that was sure to last for days. Letting go with a small pop he looked up at you. “You gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, Sir.” You nodded breathlessly.

“Stand up for a second.” He ordered helping you back onto your feet, your hands went up to his shoulders to help with balance as he used his hands to pull your pj shorts down along with your panties. Stepping out of them you kicked them to the side. Now you stood completely naked in front of a fully clothed Eddie. 

You watched as he leaned over the side of the bed to grab his belt that he had chucked there not long ago. He chuckled at your half lidded stare as he held up one finger, swirling it in the air to get you to turn around. “Hands behind your back sweetheart.”

You did as you were told and turned so your back was to him, your arms going where he wanted them. A small shiver went up your spine when you heard him fiddle with the belt for a moment as he made it into a pair of makeshift cuffs. Gently he grabbed your wrists and locked them into place with the belt.  

You gasped when you felt his hands on your hips as he turned you back around, his thumbs rubbing the skin on your hips before one of his hands made a slow deliberate journey down to the place you wanted him most. His fingers slid easily through your folds to catch your slick on his fingertips and he brought them up to swirl his middle finger teasingly over your clit. Your breath caught in your throat as you let out a breathy moan as your eyes slip closed. His rough fingers felt so good. 

“Wet already?” He mocked. “We barely even started baby.”

“C-can't help it, Sir.” You stutter as he puts more pressure on your little bud seemingly done with his teasing, now aiming to push you towards that blissful edge. You were so close you could almost taste it, but a groan of frustration left you when he pulled his hand away from you. 

“Patience,” He warned with a tiny slap to the outside of your thigh, pulling you by your hips, Eddie moved you until you were sitting how he wanted you, straddling one of his thick thighs.

He had barely touched you but it had been so long you felt like you were ready to burst. Whining, you looked down at him as he chuckled at you. “Sir.. please.”

“Show me how bad you want it.” A mischievous little grin grew on his face as he leaned back on his arms again to look up at you. “Use my thigh baby, rub that pretty little cunt on me.”

Heat erupted on your face bleeding down your neck to your chest until you felt like you were going to burn up with want and mild embarrassment. Eyes wide as you stared down at him. “What?” 

“Get yourself off with only my thigh. Go on baby. Be a good girl.” He wasn't going to back down on this. He wanted to test your obedience after being apart for so long and he could already see that he was pushing you just a little but that was his job as a dom. Your dom. Grabbing your hips Eddie pushed you down to sit on his thigh, pulled you forward, and then pushed you back so your hips rocked and your pussy dragged against the fabric of his jeans. “Just like that, sweetheart.”

You breathed heavily as the friction of the denim rubbed against your clit. Feeling heat ignite in your core, you moved your hips the way Eddie had showed you. You let your mind wander to how the friction of the denim felt against your clit. A breathy gasp left your lips as you rolled your hips back and forth in a slow even rhythm, you felt the coil start to tighten as you continued to move. His thigh felt so hard between your legs and even with your eyes closed you could feel him watching you as you pushed yourself closer and closer to the edge, you could hear the quiet praises he gave you “Atta girl.”, “That’s it baby”, “Good job”. Panting you moved faster, his praise only pushed you towards that end goal, you were so close, just a little more. “Si-sir. Can I cum? Please?” 

You listened to his hum of contemplation and whined when he said no. Lifting your hips up off his thigh he moved you to the side so he could drop you stomach down on the mattress as he laid beside you his fingers going between your wrist and the belt checking the fit. “You made a mess on my jeans baby.”

You turned your head to the side and looked up at him with a whiny pout when he slapped your ass. Hard. “Ow!”

“Hush...” He said as he dragged his fingers up your spine to your hair letting his fingers get lost in your locks before he pulled on it lifting your head slightly off the bed so he could look into your eyes. He smiled at your gasped moan. “God I missed this. Your pretty sounds got me all hard sweetheart.” 

“Sir… please.” You rasped out feeling the slight strain on your neck before he let go of your head, it falling back onto the duvet. You felt him lean down so he could whisper in your ear. 

“Color?”

“Green…” You sighed as he played with your hair a little. “Please… just fuck me.” 

“Oh I will.” He smiled, getting up from the bed he stripped himself of his clothes before his hands were on you again, moving you how he wanted you on your knees, ass in the air, and your face pressed into the comforter. “Gonna take you hard and fast baby. You remember your safeword?”

“Red.” You hummed at the feeling of his hands on you. The calloused tips of his fingers dragged across the skin of your back, hips, and ass before you felt him line himself up with your soaking core and with a quick thrust he breached your entrance and bottomed out making you both moan as he started to move, not giving you any time to adjust. He hadn’t even prepped you but you didn’t care. He felt so fucking good inside of you. Shoving your face into the bed you let out a moan. “Fuuuuck.” 

“Good girl,” He groaned as he grabbed your belt bound wrists and used them as leverage to thrust his cock in and out of you quickly. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass joined your moans and ragged breathing in the silence of the room, fuck this was like heaven. You were so on edge you might cum without any help from your clit. You clenched around him at the thought. “Fuck that's it baby, taking me so well. Been missing this pretty little cunt."

Moaning you looked back over your shoulder at him as he pounded into you. He looked so hot as he ruined you, his unruly curls started to stick to his neck and forehead with sweat from how hard he was fucking you. But you needed more, you wanted it to hurt. You wanted to feel it tomorrow when you walked down the aisle. “H-harder. Please… Sir.” 

His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he started to move faster, the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside you and he watched your eyes roll back. Landing a harsh slap to your ass he leaned over you again fisting your hair in his grip as he pulled you up so your back was against his chest. Pulling your head back a little he kissed your jaw before he gave a little nip to your neck.

Your back arched when the position hit a new spot that made you gush. Moaning loudly you pleaded with him, you weren't even sure what you wanted at this point. “Please, please.. plea-”

His hand clamped over your mouth as he continued to rut into you at a fast pace. His mouth next to your ear as he whispered “Shhhh. We have neighbors, Princess. Gotta be quiet like a good little girl.” 

Your muffled whines just spurred him on and he landed two quick sharp slaps to your clit with his free hand that made you yelp before he gave it the attention it deserved. His fingers circling it gently pushing you to the edge you were already at as you clenched down on him again.

“Cum with me baby.” He muttered into your neck, his breathing starting to stutter. “Come on. You can do it.” 

You felt yourself fall with his permission. Your orgasm slammed through you and you were happy for his hand, since you knew the scream you would have let out would have woken the entire hotel. 

“F-fuck,” He muttered as his hips faltered before he bit into your neck to hide his own moaning as he released his load into you. He let his hand drop from your mouth so he could hug you to him as he held your shaking, panting body closer to him. 

You felt fuzzy, like that night you fell into subspace, your mind quiet for the first time in weeks. “Fuck…” You whispered. Leaning your head back onto his shoulder as you caught your breath. “...I love you.” 

Chuckling, Eddie kissed your neck as he took a moment to get his senses back. “I love you, too, pretty girl. Come on. Let's get you out of this.” 

You nodded as he laid you back down gently, both of you hissing as he pulled out of you. You felt him stop as he touched the belt and when you looked over your shoulder you saw him staring directly at your abused cunt where you could feel his spend dripping out of you. “Baby?” 

“I forgot about a condom.” He muttered his eyes never leaving that spot between your legs, he could get hard all over again just watching his cum drip. It was possibly one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

“I'm on the pill.” You said with a smile as you watched his whole body just deflate in relief. 

“Not saying a kid wouldn't be great. I just think right now is a very bad time.” He smiled as he started to undo the belt around your wrists. Tossing it to the side he rolled you over into your side and flopped down next to you. “Come here.” 

You curled into him letting him give you comfort and giving him comfort in return. “I think I died a little bit.” 

Eddie kissed your forehead letting out a little laugh. “The French call it La Petite Mort. The little death.”

Humming you nodded your head. You let your eyes close as he rolled you over onto your back so he could get a good look at your arms. Your wrists were a little sore but that would go away by morning. 

“Anything hurt or feel numb?” He asked as he started to check the mobility of your arms. 

“No.” You said, shaking your head. “Well.. my vagina but I asked for that.” 

His chuckle was cut off when he looked at your upper arms, the spots where Peter grabbed you had already started to darken a little. Pinching his brows together he looked into your eyes. “Did I do that?”

“Huh?” You followed his gaze. “Oh, no… Peter grabbed me when I told him to fuck off.” 

“Motherfucker…” Eddie growled his eyes narrowing at the hand shaped marks on your arms. “I'm going to kill him.” 

“Eddie, no…” You said as you shook your head lifting your hands to cup his jaw. “He's not worth it. It's okay. This is just more evidence for Dan right?” 

Taking a deep breath the metalhead bit his lip to keep from saying something stupid. He didn’t like seeing marks that he didn’t put there on you. “He touches you again, I'm going to rip his arms off and beat him with them.”

“Dan would hate that.” You laughed.

“Dan would have to bail me out of jail.” Eddie said with a smile. He was more than ready to knock Peter down a few pegs. 

“Just forget about him.” You muttered pulling his face down to give him a kiss. “Please. I don’t want to talk about him.”

He nodded his head as he kissed you back. “Okay, shit yeah, okay. We should take a shower. Don’t want you smelling like sex at your sham wedding.”

Laughing, you nodded watching as he moved off the bed, his naked butt on full display, you admired him as he moved into the bathroom giving a little whistle that made him turn to look at you with a cheeky grin. You closed your eyes with a smile as you heard the shower turn on and soon he was back in the room grabbing your hands to pull you up and lead you back into the bathroom. You step into the shower together and let him take care of you, by the end of it you feel truly at peace. Yawning you smiled up at him sleepily as he dried you off, the smell of sandalwood and cedar enveloped you both in a warm hug as he helped you dress in your pj’s leaving your panties on the floor to pick up later. He pulled on his boxers and tucked you into the bed as he joined you, holding his arms open for you to cuddle into. 

Eddie held you as you slept, he knew you needed to be up early enough to get back to your room so no one would know you weren't there, so he stayed awake all night watching over you like you would disappear any moment. For hours he played with your hair, rubbed your back, and rocked you back to sleep whenever you woke up, and as time ticked by and the sun started to rise he woke you gently with a kiss on your forehead. Quietly he whispered, “You have to go back to your room baby.”

“Noooo,” You mumbled burying your face into his inked up chest. 

“I’m sorry baby,” He mumbled into your hair as he rocked you a little. “You have too. I’ll see you in a few hours though. We won’t be apart for long, I promise.”

Whining you let him drag you out of bed and pouted when he grabbed your keycard off the floor where you had tossed it, before pulling on a shirt and jeans, as he pocketed his own card. Holding his hand out for you he smiled and pulled you close, throwing his arm over your shoulders to escort you out of the room and down the hall to the elevators. He pressed the call button and waited, his arm never leaving you as you cuddled into him in your half awake state. The elevator dinged and you both got in, he let you go for a moment so you could push your level button and then you turned right back into his arms as he stood in the corner. He kissed the crown of your head, his cheek resting against your hair, and when you arrived at your floor he walked you down to your room using the keycard to enter it. 

"Let's get you back in bed, baby." He whispered as he dropped your card on the dresser and pulled your sheets down to tuck you in. "I'm going to take your card, okay? That way you don't have to worry about Lizzy, she'll already have it."

“Okay,” You mutter as you nuzzle into the cold bed. “I'll see you later?”

“I'll see you later.” He gave you one last kiss and pulled the sheet up higher watching as you fell back to sleep. He grabbed your card on the way out and gently closed your door so it wouldn't slam. Just a few more hours and you'd be home where you belong. 

A knock on your door woke you up with a start making you sit up in your bed confused as you looked around… weren't you just with Eddie? It took a moment for your sleepy brain to really kick in and you groaned, flopping back down onto the mattress when you remembered that he walked you back here a few hours ago. More knocking made you huff as you pulled the sheets away from you and stood from the bed. Your body was sore but in a good way. A well fucked way that made you smile as you moved to the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” You muttered as you opened the door.

“It’s about time.” Your stepmother said grumpily as she pushed her way into the room. “Come on get dressed, we have to go.” 

Rolling your eyes you sighed as you let the door close, this was going to be a long ass day. It didn’t take you long to get ready and when you were dressed with the rest of your things packed into your suitcase for Lizzy and Jeff, you turned to look at Evelyn who had gotten down right unbearable as she waited for you. Nitpicking everything she could, your pre wedding outfit, how tired you look, how messy your hair was, anything. It was when you were at the door that she made one last quip about your thighs that you had finally had enough, “Oh my god just shut up, Evelyn! Why do you always have to be the most miserable person in the room? Haven’t you ever heard of ‘If you have nothing nice to say. Don’t say anything at all’? Jesus Christ, you and my dad are perfect for each other, assholes who like to make others feel bad about themselves.” 

Evelyn stood there staring at you like you have grown a second head. Never once had you ever dared to speak to her that way. She was still floundering for something to say as you walked out of the door and down the hall, your hand slipping into your pocket to hold onto your collar to calm your racing heart.

By the time you got to the church Evelyn was still silently fuming where she sat next to you in the rental car. Rolling your eyes, you stepped out of the car when it stopped in the parking lot and waited for her to get out so you could walk together to the bridal suite.

Leslie ran from the room when you two got close enough. “There she is our beautiful bride!”

Evelyn muttered under her breath as she pushed past the two of you and moved into the suite. The wedding planner looked over her shoulder as she went and then looked back at you, confusion clear on her face. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine.” You smiled with a nod. “We had a little miscommunication in the hotel.”

“Oh,” Leslie said as she threw her hand up in the air a little. “She’ll get over it. Now let's get you ready! We have lots to do if we wanna be on time!”

You let her grab your hand and drag you into the suite so you could get ready for your wedding. For the next few hours you let yourself be primped, prodded, stuffed into your dress, and paraded around for photos. You resisted the need to roll your eyes at least twenty times as you were told where to pose, how to pose. Put your hand here, drop your shoulder, smile. And right before you were about to absolutely lose it you were allowed to go back to the bridal suite to relax for the last thirty minutes before you were supposed to be at those doors ready to walk down the aisle. 

From the moment you stepped into the bridal suite you had been surrounded by people, your anxiety was slowly heating to a boiling point, with every question or comment thrown your way you would just smile and nod as you tried to breathe. You felt like your heart was going a mile a minute. When you finally got a moment to yourself you hiked up your wedding dress and all but ran across the room to your pile of clothes shifting through your pockets until you found your collar. Hugging it to your chest you took a deep breath with closed eyes letting it soothe you before you stuffed it into the top of your bodice. The cool chain didn’t stay that way long but just knowing it was there helped a lot to calm your frazzled nerves. 

Ten minutes turned to twenty, twenty into thirty and soon your father was knocking on the door before he opened it and stared at you almost in shock. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks,” You muttered as you stood up straight. Your heart was still pounding in your ears.

“Time to go.” He said, nodding towards the church.

Taking in a slow deep breath you nodded your head and moved towards him, letting him escort you from the suite towards the doors of the church. When you got close enough, one of Peter's cousins, Kayla? Zoe? You didn’t know or care, handed you your bouquet with a smile as they all took their places. You had to admit they looked beautiful in their dresses with their makeup and hair all done but you just wanted to be done with this already. Looking out over the parking lot you tried to see if you could find Eddie, Steve, or even Dan but all you saw was a sea of cars and the anxiety started to bubble again. What if he didn’t come?  But he promised. He wouldn’t leave you like this… Would he? You heard the music start up and you closed your eyes as the line of ladies started to move and the door closed again in front of you and your dad. He had to come. ‘Eddie, where are you?’

You heard your music start and the doors opened. Time for your grand entrance.

Eddie sat in the back of Dan’s car staring up at the church. He could see you and he wanted nothing more than to jump out of this car and run to you. His hand was reaching towards the door handle as he watched you look around the parking lot. ‘I’m here,’ He thought. ‘I’m right here baby.’

“Don’t even think about it,” Dan said as he passed the packets of papers over to Steve, his gaze looking at Eddie through the rearview mirror. “She’ll be here soon enough. Just stay put or I will cuff you to the grab handle.”

The younger man glared over his shoulder at his old dom before he turned around and watched the exchange before him.

“Alright,” Dan said as Steve held the packets in his hands. “All you have to do is wait for the priest to ask for objections, deliver these packets, tell them that they have been served, grab your cousin, and get out of there. Got it? You don’t need to talk to them other than that.”

“What if they try to stop us?” Steve said as he looked over at the church you were just walking in with your dad. He needed to get in there.

“Run. Pick her up if you have to.” Dan said as he nodded towards the church. “Eddie and I will be here, go before you miss it.”

Nodding his head Steve looked back at Eddie for a moment and then got out of the car. Clutching the papers in his hand he fixed his suit jacket as he jogged through the parking lot. He needed to at least look the part of a wedding guest as he slowly entered through a side door and maneuvered his way around until he was in the main hall, hiding in the shadows like a ghost, and as quietly as he could he took a seat in a far back pew waiting for his cue.

You gave Father Michaels a small smile when he looked your way with a smile of his own as you reached the altar. You had nothing against him, he was nice enough and had absolutely no idea what was happening behind the scenes. 

“Everyone please be seated,” He smiled over at the crowd. When they all did he nodded his head. “Thank you. Before we begin I would like to say a prayer for God’s blessing over the bride and groom.” Father Michaels said as he opened the book in his hands and started to read.  

You bit the inside of your cheek as you bowed your head while he said his prayer and took a deep breath as your father held onto your arm firmly like you were about to bolt any minute. Your hand squeezed the stems of your bouquet tightly. Was Eddie out there? Steve? Dan?

You heard the priest clear his throat after the prayer and when you looked up Peter was smiling at you. Father Michaels continues like it was rehearsed. “Peter and Y/N have invited us here today to share in this celebration as they affirm their love and pledge their faith to one another and enter into the joys and privileges of marriage. If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two should not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You held your breath. It was too quiet for a moment and you thought for sure you were abandoned when a voice from the back called out. “I OBJECT!”

Gasps and shocked cries rang out across the church as everyone turned to see Steve walking up the aisle. You and your father turned around quickly to see who had shouted. A smile broke out on your face. 

“On what grounds?” Father Michaels asked over the sounds of the guests.

“Steven!” His father shouted at him as his son passed him. “Sit down! Now!” 

“No!” Steve shouted back, moving out of grabbing range when his father tried to reach for him and continued up the aisle towards you. “This wedding is bullshit! Y/N is being blackmailed and forced into marrying this guy as a business deal. Richard L/N, Peter Malloy, and Lewis Malloy you’re being served.”

He was standing in front of you by then, his hand holding out the packets for the three men. “And Y/N’s coming home with me.”

“What is the meaning of this?!” Your father hissed. 

“Exactly like I said.” Steve huffed as he forced the packets into your fathers arms. “This wedding is bullshit and Y/N’s coming home with me.”

“Is this true?” The priest said to you as he took a step down from the altar. “Are you here against your will?”

“Don’t say a word,” Your dad glared at you. 

Time to woman up. Glancing from your dad back to the priest you nodded your head. “I don’t want this.”

“Y/N!” Your father yelled, if his glare could kill you, you would be six feet under by now.

“I see,” Father Michaels said as he nodded his head. Taking a deep breath he looked around the room. “Then it is in good conscience that I can not continue this wedding.”

“Birdie,” Steve said, stepping up behind you and taking your arm in his hand, prying you away from your dad. 

Nodding you let him pull you away as you dropped the bouquet and ripped the veil from your hair and threw it on the ground along with your engagement ring. “Get me out of here.”

Nodding, Steve smiled at you as you both turned and started to run from the church, your skirt hiked up enough to be out of your way. It was hard in heels but you managed and when you reached the double doors at the back of the church you both flung them open as your father yelled for you to get back into the church. More shouting and movement could be heard behind you as a car horn caught your attention and you smiled as you saw Eddie and Dan standing in the parking lot. Together you and your cousin ran to them, Steve keeping his hand on you to make sure you wouldn’t fall and when you were close Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you up with ease as he hugged you to him. 

“Y/N!” You heard voices call out and when Eddie put you back down you all turned to see Peter, your father and Mr. Malloy all standing on the steps. Peter was seething as he glared at Eddie. 

“Get in the car,” Eddie said, moving you behind him. 

“Eddie,” You muttered as you held onto his hand. 

“Now,” He ordered and watched as you got into the open backseat pulling your dress all the way inside. 

Eddie watched as Peter took the few steps down to the sidewalk and started heading towards you and when Eddie was about to move he felt a firm hand on the back of his neck that stopped him.

“He is not your concern right now,” Dan hissed in his ear. “She is. Don’t start a fight here. We’ll take them out in the courtroom.”

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Eddie nodded and turned away moving to sit in the back of the car with you. No matter how much he wanted to punch that shithead in the face, Dan was right, you were more important. He looked you over as Dan shut the car door and got into the driver's seat. The engine was already going in case you needed a quick get away. Locking the door, Eddie turned and leaned against it before he held his arms out for you, a smile spread wide on his face when you crawled into the space between his legs to lay on him. Holding you close again he hummed in contentment as Dan pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the street. Heading towards home.

Tag List:

@eddiesprincess86 @haylaansmi @micheledawn1975 @chloe-6123 @wendyfawcett

[squarebracket-trickster]

Find the Words tag

THANK YOU to the following fantastic humans (and others in human disguises):

@sam-glade, whose words for me are honey, fruit, tea, bread and young, old, new, used.

@tabswrites, whose words for me are find, blink, break, fear.

@writernopal, whose words for me are ache, mortal, ancient, divine.

@captain-kraken, whose words for me are need, lost, soft, bite.

@autumnalwalker, whose words for me are please, space, surprise, melancholy, unassuming.

@gottestod-writes, whose words for me are mother, green, fold.

@sarandipitywrites, whose words for me are warm, need, again, why.

@awleeofficial, whose words for me are shock, love, clock, colorful.

I think I'll tag (no pressure, of course): @forthesanityofstorytellers, @mundanemoongirl, @crowandmoonwriting, @ijustwritehonestly, @aziz-reads, @nacricissa (again hehe), @silverslipstream, @full-on-sam, @sender-paulson, and @starbuds-and-rosedust

I love when the people I tag @ me and/or link back to my post. I love it when you reblog my post with questions, compliments, words of encouragement about my WIP, or even no comment at all. But please make your own post to complete this tag. Please do not turn my post into a reblog chain.

Thy words be: silver, gold, daylight, evening

Actual Find the Words below the cut because... this uhhh... this is going to be loooooong...

Honey and Again

Agnes, is a joy, full of stories and deep laughs, an energy sweeter than the honeyed and white-sugared pears that pulls me every now and again from my musings and drags the slightest of smiles to the corner of my cheek.

Fruit

After our meal a pageboy brings a plate of breney to our table – hard, unleavened bread dipped in a fruit compote of currants, dates, and pine nuts steeped in red wine, vinegar, mace, and sandalwood.

Tea - alas, nothing.

Bread

Is Prince Philip the kind of man who buries his nose inside a loaf of white bread, fresh out of the oven?

Young, Need, and Mother

"[...] Have his son, do away with him while the boy’s still young and needs his mother to manage his inheritance, and… don’t get caught.”

Old

Frail old man is not exactly how I would describe Ieuan. Old, yes. But he has set us a grueling pace.

New

The morning dew begins to collect on the leaves and woodland becomes colder, wetter with each new fall of rain.

Used and Again

“I won’t be used again.”

Blink

If I had blinked I would have missed the flash of silver in the moonlight.

Break

His eyes flick to my face and lock with mine. I break first.

Fear

I can’t keep the fear from my eyes.

Ache

The earth is raised around the tree and remains thankfully dry where I sit and nurse the aches in my legs and feet.

Mortal - alas, nothing.

Ancient - ah, yes! My favourite line in the whole WIP so far!

The land rises and falls like the shoulders of a giant that ripple as he wakes from an ancient slumber; and from deep between the dips in the hills, where the river beds are still dry from a long summer, comes a groan so low and so deep it cannot be heard but felt keenly, a shiver in the bones.

Divine and Find

By some divine grace I find the energy for it all.

Lost

“Perhaps the assassins got lost on the way here? [...]"

Soft

“Afternoon,” I tell him, though by the time he wakes the daylight has gone soft with the early evening glow.

Bite

But I have to bite back the urge to suggest he watch.

Please

“Aldis, lady?” Henry says, “please let me gut them.”

Space

But there is another small room off the hall – the drawing room, a more private space than the parlour, meant for the women of the house and their family to converse.

Surprise

The man grunts in surprise and grabs me by the sleeve.

Melancholy - alas, nothing.

Unassuming - alas, nothing.

Green

The hills flatten, the evergreens give way to deciduous trees, the forest turns from rich green to gold and red, and far ahead the spires of Aubemote Castle pierce the golden sky.

Fold

“Did you get something for yourself?” I ask him as I fold over the hem of the left sleeve of the kirtle.

Warm and Find

The air is warm and windless and smells only of salt if you take the time to find it.

Why

“Luck has gotten me this far. Why not?”

Shock

“So you’ll have to get over the shock of seeing a lady in her kirtle.”

Love

Henry hesitates. An unfortunate thing for a man who refuses to fall in love with me.

Clock - alas, nothing.

Colourful, Again, Old, and Young

The tents thin again, they are smaller now and less colourful, and the men around them are older and younger, thinner and smaller.

Phew! That took a while! 'twas much fun though! I love the way this tag game forces me to pay attention to sentences I otherwise wouldn't notice, and I love what it can reveal about my little idiosyncrasies. Apparently I like the phase, "bite back" a lot. Didn't know that about myself haha.

[liaromancewriter]

Total Surrender

Premise: After following Cassie’s command to the letter, Ethan is determined to collect his reward.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Mature. NSFW – 18+ only Words: 1,550

A/N: I always meant to write a follow-up to Perfect Distraction, but didn't find the inspo until now. This fic was requested by Anon from @creativepromptsforwriting Smutty One Liners (prompt 5). Tagging for reblog to @creativepromptfills. I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 42, prompt 3.

Ethan Ramsey glanced at the street view outside and knew the hotel was only a few blocks away. He sighed in relief. The reunion dinner had been long and tedious, as expected. But he’d kept his promise and leaned into the experience.

Cassie Valentine would know if he hadn’t. Tobias Carrick might have been his friend first, but he was squarely in her corner now. He would’ve reported back as soon as the dinner ended. The bastard.

The cab pulled up outside the hotel entrance, and he tapped his credit card on the machine. Pocketing the card and receipt, he exited the car, marched into the hotel lobby and went straight to the elevator.

Most reunion attendees were at this hotel and the one across the street. He had no interest in socializing with colleagues at the hotel bar.

Besides, all he could think about was his wife in that tight red dress with the plunging neckline and gold necklace hanging between her breasts, beckoning him.

He could feel the anticipation building with every passing second. Cassie had issued a challenge, and he planned to collect his prize. All night long. She might think she’d gained the upper hand with her games earlier. But soon, she’d discover he was the hunter, and she was the prey.

In his eagerness to claim his reward, he didn’t notice the room service tray left outside the room next to theirs. His foot stumbled on the edge of the tray and metal cloche covering it, and the room keycard flew out of his hand.

“Christ. Fuck.”

His curses boomed down the empty hallway as he shook his foot to get the sting out of his stubbed toe.

Ethan stared incredulously at the dirty dishes and cutlery littering the carpet. The cloche was upside down, still spinning from where it had hit the wall with a loud bang.

He took a deep breath to rein in his frustration and bent to pick up his keycard and put everything back onto the tray.

“What are you doing?”

Ethan glanced up at the sound, and his dick instantly became hard as blood rushed to his lap.

His eyes trailed up, starting from pedicured feet with glossy red nails displayed enticingly in sky-high golden heels, making her dancer legs appear six feet long.

Before continuing his inspection, he stared a shade too long at the lacy triangle at the juncture of her thighs that left nothing to the imagination.

Cassie leaned against the open doorway, arms folded across her chest, wearing scraps of red lace that barely covered anything. Her hard nipples poked through the gossamer material. The tops of her breasts spilled over the low-cut bodice, held up with a flimsy ribbon.

Unlike earlier, the plunging neckline reached her navel, showcasing the diamond pendant hanging from a long, gold chain. He felt the flush spread across his face, and his throat suddenly became dry.

“Cat caught your tongue, Dr. Ramsey?” Cassie smirked, running one manicured finger down the exposed silken skin of her torso.

Ethan realized he was breathless and on the verge of howling. In his mind, he saw himself pounding into her, her cries loud enough to echo down the floor.

“Where are your clothes, Rookie?” he asked in a strangled voice.

“My spies reported that you behaved yourself tonight,” she said saucily, licking her lips. “I believe you were promised a reward for being good.”

“I get to fuck you into oblivion, you said.” Ethan straightened from the floor and stalked toward her.

“And yet, I find you playing…” she eyed the tray in mock dismay “…waiter in the hallway.”

“Anyone ever tell you, you talk too much?” Ethan said menacingly, looming above her.

“Make me shut up then,” she countered, placing one hand on her cocked hip.

“Gladly!”

His blue eyes glittered in challenge as he gripped her waist and carried her across the threshold, slamming the door shut with his foot.

Ethan set her down on the foot of the bed and stood between her thighs. He cupped the sides of her neck, his thumbs pressing against the underside of her jaw, and tilted her head back. Her blonde hair fell in a waterfall down her back, and her green eyes darkened with desire.

He traced the arch of her brows, the line of her jaw, the seams of her lips. The wide pad of his thumb settled into the small dent at the base of her chin.

“Open,” he commanded.

Her lips parted, nipping the edge of his thumb before her tongue darted out to soothe.

“Take me out. Put that sassy mouth of yours to good use.”

Ethan wondered if she’d object to the domineering tone and request, but she didn’t say anything. Her fingers quickly unbuckled his belt, unzipped him and shoved his pants and boxers down his hips.

Her fingers reached for him, fondling his balls and stroking him. He was already hard, but the sensation intensified when her tongue swirled around the head of his cock. She took him into her warm, wet mouth, sucking his length inch by inch.

His hands plunged into her hair, holding her in place, fingernails scraping her scalp. Unable to control himself, he pushed deeper, hitting the back of her throat. Once, twice, thrice. Hard.

She winced. Too late, Ethan remembered she didn’t enjoy that part and eased back before he hurt her further. She released him with a pop, and he loosened his hold on her hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said remorsefully. “I got carried away.”

“It’s fine,” she said, sucking in air.

“We can stop now. I don’t mind,” Ethan said solicitously, tenderly cradling her face between his hands.

“You always were a terrible liar,” she laughed before leering at him. “Tonight, I’m yours to take however you want me and as long as you can get it up.”

He quirked one eyebrow at her statement and stepped back.

“In that case. Strip.”

She complied but teased him by slowly sliding the straps down her arms. He growled and reached out to hurry her along. In his haste, the lace tore in his hand.

He thought he might as well finish the job. He snatched the edges of the no doubt expensive lingerie and shredded it in half.

Cassie stood before him in nothing but the gold necklace and high heels. Just as he’d fantasized all evening long.

“Get on the bed, on your knees, your back to me. Keep the heels on,” he added when she lowered her hand to remove them.

He stripped the rest of his clothes and joined her on the bed. Placing his hands on either side of her hips, he lined up his throbbing dick at her entrance, teasing but not penetrating. He wanted her needy for his touch.

“I’m in the mood for hard and fast tonight,” Ethan warned. “You might want to hold on to something.”

“I like it rough, remember?” Cassie said, throwing him a pleading look over her shoulder. “I want you. Fuck me, Ethan.”

His name had barely crossed her lips before he plunged deep within her in one swift motion. He set a rigorous pace, his balls slapping against her hips, her cries muffled by the sheets as the force of his thrusts pushed her head down.

Not content with that, he leaned over her, wrapped one arm around her from behind, just below her breasts, and hauled her up.

“Look at me,” he ordered, nostrils flaring as he tried to slow down. “Eyes on me.”

Cassie arched her back, almost rising off the bed, her back plastered against his front. She turned her head over her shoulder, and their eyes locked.

She bit her lips to hold back the sounds, but he pressed his thumb to the top of her sex, fucking her with his cock and fingers until her moans bounced off the walls.

“So close,” he panted, stretching her walls around his cock as he slid deep inside her.

His arm tightened around her, and he rolled them over so she rose above him, head thrown back. Cassie leaned in and kissed his lips, her tongue delving inside to duel with his. She pushed down while he thrust up. Their mouths mirrored the frenzied movements of their bodies below.

At the edge and unable to hold back any longer, he cupped her breasts and pressed his thumbs on each of her nipples, gently tweaking and rubbing them. Ethan felt her climax an instant before he exploded into an ecstatic release.

Breathless, they stared at each other as the high slowly dissipated, and sweat cooled on their heated bodies. Ethan gently brushed a wet strand of hair off her cheek and tucked it behind one ear. Cassie snuggled against his chest, and he folded her in his arms.

As he stared at the ceiling, he smiled, a long-forgotten memory emerging in the back of his mind.

It was their first visit to Dagger Mountain as a team, and they’d been snowed in. He and Cassie had secretly retreated to his room; one thing led to another. But after, she had nestled softly against him just like this.

And that, like now, was the best part of his night. And a reward well cherished.

-------------

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey @youlookappropriate

[ccaptain]

five fine things.

FILL IN THE CATEGORIES BELOW WITH 3-5 THINGS YOUR CHARACTER CAN BE DEFINED BY. REPOST. DO NOT REBLOG!

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS / TRAITS:

curious, knowledgeable, melancholic, meticulous, observant.

MEETINGS:

i. one day, he simply materializes in your path- and you almost collide into him. you have the feeling that you know him, but also that there's something off. about the entire situation. ii. there's something pleasing in trudging behind him, observing gloved fingers indulge in things, seeing singular pale diamond observe while he can't see you. it's a bit perverse. you observe the unknown, and want to introduce yourself just so you can see his expression. iii. for a moment, there's someone at your side. when you try to focus on it, it's no longer here. he's no longer here, but he has seen you. you feel comforted and weirded out all the same.

SCENTS:

a light flower scent in his hair. occasionally jasmine. fresh soap. an hint of leather. the scentless cold.

CLOTHING:

a skin-tight sleeveless top with a medium-high collar. a black jacket with blue highlights, fake but soft fur sliding down his forearms. high boots with golden indents biting the leather, two loose belts hanging by his waist. a red scrunchie holding up his ponytail.

OBJECTS:

a piece of bread, encased in transparent epoxy and stained with dryed blood droplets. plastic, colorful beads. shimmering precious stones tucked in pockets. heat-preserving gloves. the paw-shaped pin.

VICES / BAD HABITS:

contagiously melancholic at times. stores bad emotions away as soon as he intercepts them. cagey. somewhat secretive. self-sacrificial.

BODY LANGUAGE:

still, but not stiff. relaxedly exists in places, eyes always following something or observing. makes an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. head tilting in confusion or to understand things better. shows the gloves palms of his hands often to placate, on purpose to appear more open.

AESTHETICS:

the call of the void, irresistible and seemingly friendly. cracked mirrors, as if a bullet hit the left side of it. the crackling sparkle over the calm ocean water at night. a thick fog that makes a path that was previously known confusing, difficult to navigate in. a warm shade of glittering gold.

HOME:

organized chaos: trinkets everywhere- on shelves, on the nightstand, on the sitting of the window. a tidy line of documentaries about psychology, about disturbing things. a projector of white, blue and red stars flooding the ceiling, the walls. a tv-show playing in the background, where the actors act in a more exaggerated way to be funny, but it just looks a bit grotesque and uncomfortable. paperwork- so much of it, and everywhere, in a beautiful handwriting that has morphed with time into little flicks of the wrists at the end of the letter T, a little dot atop of the i that's drawn and then filled with a splash of ink. it has grown a personality.

SONGS:

i. the other side of paradise by glass animals. ii. unbecoming by STARSET. iii. living in a dream by finger eleven.

tagged by: stole from @malumae MWA THANK U THIS IS MY KIND OF VIBE tagging: my usual peeps... @predvestnik @dupliciti (for gepard too if u want!) @remembranced @batoushoujo

[draguta]

.a court of ash and smoke | twelve.

pairing: lucien vanserra x reader

summary: five years before feyre archeron ever stepped foot in prythian, another human girl found herself in the spring court. but the trials and tribulations of her time under the mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed high fae emissary, who had once resented her entire presence, to help and guide her.

chapter warnings: violence, canon character death, ptsd

chapter word count: 3057

🩸 series masterlist 🩸

please remember to reblog, like, and share a comment if you enjoy this series - it is always appreciated by writers to see their hard work valued.

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Nightmares

The room was spinning around you, to the point that you couldn’t focus on one singular point to keep yourself steady. It was a familiar room; you knew that dais, knew the stone throne that stood there, knew the cavernous walls and that cold, unholy atmosphere. You had been there before, in Amarantha’s throne room.

“I know it wasn’t real,” you whispered to yourself. “I knew that the Spring Court wasn’t real. I never left. I’m still here. Still Under the Mountain.”

There were other people there, a crowd that suddenly, as if they had been given a cue, began to laugh. Loud, accusatory laughter, aimed at you. They pointed and cackled, tears in their eyes, hunched over with red faces. Those faces, people that you knew. Tamlin was there, laughing so hard that he was bent over, hands on his knees, staring at me through the holes in his golden mask. Feyre laughed, throwing her head back, hands on her stomach. Rhysand laughed, eyes screwed shut, gasping for air between roars of loud laughter. Even Alis, and the man from the Spring Court who wore the wolf mask laughed, Aeryn and Lucien’s other brothers laughed, Keir and his cronies laughed. Everyone laughed, at you.

And you didn’t know why.

Until, that is, you saw that flash of red hair in front of you, your eyes meeting Lucien’s pleading ones, russet and gold, wide and filled with terror. He was on his knees, arms outstretched to his sides as if something was holding him back, although I couldn’t see what it was. You took a step forward, head reeling and dizzy with the constant twirling and spinning of the room. Your foot splashed in something, and when you looked down you realised that there was a red liquid coating the tiled floor, candlelight reflected back up to you, providing you with enough light to see how it had splattered up your bare legs. Blood. Lucien’s blood. You looked up, and this time saw the back of his shirt ripped open, no doubt hiding those lashes of raw skin seeping blood.

Then you heard it, that melodic cackle, that laugh that you had heard so many times.

“No no no no no,” you whispered, shaking your head and closing your eyes closed tightly. “She can’t be here. I can’t be back. I can’t.”

The laughter of the crowd rose, Amarantha’s louder than any other voice as you took another step forward, splatters of blood flying here and there from every step. You whirled around, searching for her, but she wasn’t there. You scanned every single face visible to you, every single person buckled over with laughter, but there was no sign of the wicked High Queen. She wasn’t there, but this was her doing, you knew it. There was no question about it. She was using Lucien against you once again.

“Y/N, please,” Lucien begged. His lips were trembling, his back arched with the pain that had been inflicted on him. “Please, stop this.”

You would put a stop to it, as soon as you found Amarantha. If you could kill her once, whether it be in a dream or not, then you could do it again. Even if it took everything that you had, you would make her stop, you would save Lucien. Because you couldn’t do this without him, and you couldn’t bear to see his pain, to hear his screams.

You whirled around again, eyes trailing over the body of Clare Beddor nailed into the wall, but didn’t focus on it. “Where are you?” You shouted into the crowd. “You coward, show your face!”

It was Rhysand that stepped forward then, who seemed to drift over the surface of the blood on the floor to come to a stop before you. He was no longer laughing, not like the others, but he was smirking, that familiar smirk that you had seen so many times. “What do you mean? She’s right here.”

“I don’t see her,” you breathed out. You spun again, head dizzy, legs threatening to give way under you and throw you into that pool of blood, but you had to push through. You had to find Amarantha, had to help Lucien.

“Please!” Lucien begged as another wave of pain ran through him, another hoarse cry. “Y/N, please stop this! Please!”

“She’s right here,” Rhysand said again. “The one you’re looking for is right here.”

You spun to stare at him wide eyed, prepared to scream at him, to make him tell you where Amarantha was. But then, as you glanced at Lucien over Rhysand’s shoulder, you finally caught sight of what was holding him in place, of what had caused those lashes on his back. Coils of red smoke-like mist were curled tightly around his wrists, pulling him taught, and there, by his back, was a larger and long tendril of smoke, poised in the air as if waiting for the command to give him one more lash to that raw skin. You glanced down, and found that those curls of smoke were coming from your own hands, and that the command it was waiting for wasn’t from Amarantha at all, but from you.

“Please stop this!” Lucien cried again, and you realised that he wasn’t asking you to stop Amarantha, he was begging and pleading for you to stop hurting him. It was you that was torturing him. It was you.

“Oh Gods,” you whispered, shaking your hands in an attempt for the smoke to dissipate, to leave. “Oh Gods, I don’t know how to stop it. Lucien, I can’t stop it!”

“Please,” Lucien begged, tears staining his masked face. “Don’t do this! I thought we were friends! We were friends! Please stop this!”

“I don’t…I don’t know how!” You were panicking now, shaking your hands frantically at the side, trying to push the smoke away. “Stop! Stop this! Stop this now!”

But the smoke didn’t stop. Instead, that largest and longest one reared up high above us and flung itself again against Lucien’s back, and the cry that he let out was strangled and desperate, and your heart broke, shattered entirely. It was you causing that pain, you tormenting him and hurting him. Lucien - your Lucien - was dying at your hands, and you were helpless to stop it.

“Tut tut,” a familiar voice crooned behind you, and as two fingers spider-walked their way slowly across your shoulders, a shudder ran down your spine. “Here I was thinking that you would never hurt someone you loved.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” You snapped, not daring to turn around and face her. “Why are you making me do this?”

“Me?” Amarantha leered. “I’m not making you do anything at all. This is all you. That monster you became to kill me, my dear, it seems has taken you over entirely. So tell me one thing.”

You turned your head slightly, looking at her from the corner of your eye. There she was, red hair the same colour as Lucien’s blood on the floor, rouge-tinted lips curled into a malicious smile.

“Was it worth it?”

Lucien cried again, and Amarantha’s voice suddenly turned even colder, a whisper, one that didn’t belong to her at all, but to something else, something much worse. “Touch me. Touch me. Touch me.”

You woke with a start, and your hands immediately went to each opposite wrist, wiping and scraping at the skin as if the smoke was still leaching from the skin there, as if it was seeping from your very pores. The room was dark, and for a moment you couldn’t focus on where you were. You searched for anything familiar.

No dais, only the fireplace.

No blood, only the soft doe-skin rug on the floor.

No laughing crowd, only the rustling of the leaves on the trees outside.

No Amarantha, only your lonesome reflection in the mirror.

No cries from Lucien, only the echoes of your own screams bounding from the walls in a memory.

You were alone in that room, and it had just been a dream, one of many that would haunt you before the sun rose that night. Yet despite knowing that it wasn’t real, you couldn’t help that feeling in your gut that made you wonder if that nightmare had been trying to tell you something. If that power inside you was trying to tell you something. It had whispered that same thing, had begged for you to touch it, to claim that power, to let it consume you. And what if you did? What would that make you? Perhaps Amarantha was right.

Perhaps you were a monster.

You slipped out of bed and padded across the floor. Maybe Lucien was back from border patrol, maybe you could seek some comfort from me. As you opened the door, it creaked slightly and you winced, but the hall looked dark and empty. You tiptoed across the hall to Lucien’s door, and knocked gently. There was no answer. You knocked again, and pressed your ear against the wood of the door. Silence.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped as Tamlin growled behind you, and as you turned you found him, not as the High Fae that you were so used to, but that beast form, golden coat glinting in the moonlight, horns and claws out, ready for a fight. “I was looking for Lucien.”

He growled low and angrily. “Go to bed.”

“But-”

“I told him to stay away from you. That means you need to stay away from him too,” Tamlin snarled through those long, shining fangs. “Go to bed.”

You didn’t try and argue again, but when you closed your bedroom door behind you, you couldn’t hide your shaking hands from the fear that the beast had elicited in you. You slid under the covers and closed your eyes, willing for a peaceful sleep.

Lucien’s jaw clenched enough to hurt as he pushed his way through to his father’s throne room; of course he was the only High Lord that he knew of that had a throne room. That was so very typical of his father.

His reasonings for having been called there during the day when he had been patrolling the border between the Autumn and Summer Courts, Lucien didn’t know. But as he reached the large double doors, and the guards on either side turned to open them and allow him access, and he took his first steps inside and caught straight of each of his brothers lined up by the wall to his right, Lucien knew that it wasn’t going to be good. Perhaps his father was planning to send him off to a different court for a while, or maybe one of his brothers had accused him of something despicable; always lies, of course.

As he passed them by he caught Eris’ eye and his eldest brother simply offered him a small nod of his head, a quiet apology, and Lucien’s stomach turned in knots. If Eris was providing him solidarity even in front of his father and other brothers, then something had to be really wrong.

As he finally reached the very end of the throne room where his father’s wooden throne sat at the end of his father’s long wooden table, the one that he used to plan out protection or attacks against other courts should it be needed, painted with a delicate mural of Prythian on the surface, he offered his father a low bow.

“Father,” he said as he straightened, hand on his chest, the other on the pommel of his sword. “You asked to see me?”

“Lucien,” his father snarled as he leaned against the table on the opposite side. He looked his son up and down. Even with his High Fae eternal youth, his face was still wrinkled from so many years of frowning and scowling, usually aimed at Lucien himself. “Thank you for coming at such short notice.”

Lucien narrowed his eyes - his father never thanked him for anything. Something was definitely wrong.

“Is there some way I can be of service, father?” Lucien asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Beron snarled. He pushed himself off the table and rounded it to the head, leaning against the back of his throne, red-brown eyes trained on his youngest son. “I heard a little rumour that my son has found himself a lover.”

Lucien’s breath caught in his throat. “I had heard that Clement had found himself a High Fae lover, yes. The youngest daughter of Waylen Aster, if the sentinels are to be believed.”

“Yes,” Beron agreed with a short nod of his head, looking over at his fourth oldest son. “A lady of noble birth, a suitable choice. Unlike another of my sons, who seems to think that an orchard harvester is an acceptable mate.”

He spat the final words, and Lucien whirled to Eris, the only one of his brothers who had known of Jesminda, of the girl that he loved. His heart was pounding in his chest, his throat bone dry. His brother had betrayed him, the only one of them that he had ever trusted. Beron continued, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about her? Little Jesminda. So pretty, it’s really such a shame.”

“Do not lay a hand on her!” Lucien snapped, turning back to his father with fire behind his eyes. “If you hurt my mate in any way-”

“But she’s not your mate, is she?” Beron bellowed.

“The mating bond will snap into place any day now, I’m certain of it,” Lucien snarled. “I swear on the Cauldron if you have hurt her-”

“I haven’t hurt her,” Beron interrupted, but the sly smile that pulled at his thin lips made Lucien’s blood run cold. “Not yet, anyway.”

He clapped his hands, and suddenly those double doors at the back of the room swung open, and Lucien turned to find a small female figure being dragged along the floor by two guards. Her shoulders were shaking, but she still fought against them, still tried to regain her freedom. She was flung to the floor at Lucien’s feet, and he reached down toward her, to pull her up, to protect her, but a foot prodded hard into his lower back, and two pairs of hands pushed him to his knees, his limbs groaning in pain as a fist caught at the roots of his hair and pulled his head up to look at the girl, to look at Jesminda.

But when she looked up at him, with fear in her eyes, it wasn’t Jesminda’s face that he saw. It wasn’t Jesminda’s golden-tinged skin that clutched at the ropes around her hands. It wasn’t Jesminda’s brass coloured hair that fell around her face. No, it was your face staring back at him, eyes wide and nostrils flared as you battled to breath against the red cloth tied around your mouth - his father’s calling card. A warning to the others in his court not to step a foot out of line.

“Don’t touch her!” Lucien screamed as Beron slowly circled you, a predator circling its prey. “Do not lay a hand on her, I swear!”

“And what do you intend to do, Lucien?” Beron crooned. “Will you take her place? Do you love this inferior creature enough to put your life in her place?”

“I do!” Lucien cried, fighting against his brother’s hands. Eris was still there, watching from his place by the wall, face contorted in guilt. He couldn’t even look at you, and Lucien refused to look at him. “I will take her place! She has done nothing wrong, please let her go!”

“Oh, but she has,” Beron mused, pulling a golden dagger from his robes. “She allowed you to use her to disobey my orders. She is an accomplice in your betrayal, and therefore, she must be punished.”

He ripped the red cloth from your mouth, and you gasped for breath. “Lucien, please!” You begged, but Lucien couldn’t get to you, he couldn’t help you. “Lucien,” you whimpered again, and Lucien fought as hard as he could as Beron reached up with the dagger, dragging the tip along your cheekbone, down your neck, to your throat. “I love you,” you whispered, eyes trained on him.

“I love you too,” Lucien whispered back through a sob, tears now staining his face.

And then Beron slid that blade across your neck, slitting your throat. Lucien roared.

Lucien sat up so quickly that he almost hit his head on the tree that he had been napping under. It was later that he had intended to stay at the border, and it was already dark - how long had he been asleep? He rubbed at his eyes and found tears there, and that was when he remembered.

Jeminda - no, you - haunting his dreams. He could still feel the blood on his hands, could still hear those final words of, ‘I love you’, could still hear those whimper and sobs and his own roared screams as you crumpled to the floor. But why was it you? That dream was a memory, one that had cursed almost every single night of sleep that he had endured ever since it had happened so many decades ago now, but never before had the face of his love ever changed. It had always been Jesminda, her hair the same colour as the autumn leaves in the orchard where she had worked, her skin a glittering gold like that of Tamlin’s old mask, her eyes a glimmering orange, beautiful and alluring.

But now it was you, and somehow the thought of you taking her place made him feel as though the cheese and bread he’d had for lunch might make its way back up.

Tamlin had told him to stay away from you, and even though that killed him, even though he just wanted to see you and hold you close, he couldn’t help but admit in that moment that perhaps Tamlin was right. Maybe it was best he kept his distance, if not for Tamlin’s order, but for your own protection. He sighed and rose to his feet, climbing onto his horse with a yawn, and starting the long trek back to the manor.

[lunarbrambles]

Repost don’t reblog. Write what you associate with your muse(s) and then tag others. 

CARIAN KNIGHT ADRIAN

ANIMAL: Domesticated dogs, or more specifically, the golden retriever breed.

COLORS: Royal blue, bright silver, midnight blue

MONTH: September (for birthday), October (for vibes)

SONG: "Remember" - mind.in.a.box

NUMBER: 2

DAY OR NIGHT: Night, specifically midnight

PLANT(s): Red roses, clover, hemlock spruce, juniper, oakmoss, jasmine, morning-glory

SMELL: Wet dirt, rain, freshly picked roses, stone, ozone, pine needles, crisp air

GEMSTONE: Sapphire and moonstone (not just because they are the September birthstones, but because they fit ER Adrian particularly well)

SEASON: Mid autumn when it still rains and frost is rare

PLACE: Thick, humid, rainy forests, foggy lakes, and overgrown ruins

FOOD: Blueberries, venison stew and jerky, fish

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Libra

ELEMENT(S): Water

DRINK: Black tea with honey, mulled wine, lavender herbal tea

TAGGED BY: @hexenjagd five million years ago, thank u for the tag and sorry I took so long to do this! TAGGING: @aberrantthornes and anyone else who wants to do this if you see it just steal it and tag me pls this is from months ago and I have no idea who has and hasn't done it

other verses/AUs after the cut

DARKMOON KNIGHT ADRIAN

ANIMAL: Russian wolfhound/borzoi, specifically a pure snow white one

COLORS: Ultramarine blue, tarnished silver, black, indigo

MONTH: September (for birthday), December (for vibes)

SONG: "Leave the Day" - Blutengel

NUMBER: 8

DAY OR NIGHT: Night, specifically dusk or twilight

PLANT(s): Dark red roses, lavender, pine trees, holly bushes, night-blooming jasmine, juniper,

SMELL: Leather, red wine, spruce, fresh roses, freshly fallen snow, crisp air, metal, ozone, juniper berries, blueberries, dried blood

GEMSTONE: Moonstone

SEASON: Early winter, right before everything but evergreens are bare

PLACE: Deep in a snow-blanketed forest, or at an altar bathed in the light of the full moon

FOOD: Blueberries, blueberry merlot pie, freshly baked bread

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Libra

ELEMENT(S): Air

DRINK: Cabernet sauvignon, milk tea

RINGED CITY/LOSS OF FAITH DS3 AU ADRIAN

ANIMAL: A jackal, specifically one with a pure black hypermelanistic pelt

COLORS: Black, bright gold, white

MONTH: September (for birthday), January (for vibes)

SONG: "My Name is Ruin" - Gary Numan

NUMBER: 1

DAY OR NIGHT: Night, right before dawn

PLANT(s): Black and white roses

SMELL: Fresh and dried blood, leather, black pepper, jasmine, woodsmoke, metal, ozone, feathers

GEMSTONE: Moonstone

SEASON: Mid-winter, when all the foliage has died

PLACE: Ruins far from civilization, moreso than the main DS3 verse he tries to keep away from places many other Undead/Unkindled gather simply because making yourself an enemy of the Divines (especially Gwyndolin and Velka) as well as Londor makes you pretty damn unpopular and it tends to get around when you kill Blades of the Darkmoon as well as pardoners

FOOD: I don't really associate this verse much with food, but if I had to pick it would probably be something like spicy blackened fish

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Libra

ELEMENT(s): Air

DRINK: Black tea with no cream or sweetener

VILEBLOOD ADRIAN

ANIMAL: Wild boar

COLORS: Oxblood red, black, antique gold

MONTH: September

SONG: "Sins of the Flesh" - Sister Machine Gun

NUMBER: 3

DAY OR NIGHT: Night

PLANT(s): Red roses, black dahlias, mushrooms (especially truffles and a certain recreational kind), poppies

SMELL: Blood, black tea, bitter basil, dried leaves, vetiver, gunpowder, metal, chemicals, musk

GEMSTONE: Moonstone, garnet, not technically a stone but pearls

SEASON: Early autumn when leaves begin to turn

PLACE: A cramped secret makeshift laboratory in a repurposed wine cellar, the streets at night

FOOD: Sea urchin, salt water fish, freshly sliced apples, oat porridge, roasted pistachios

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Libra

ELEMENT(s): Fire

DRINK: Heavily sweetened milk tea, rosehip and cherry blossom herbal tea, blood, distilled rain water

[nightraiderwrites]

I posted 39 times in 2022

That's 39 more posts than 2021!

31 posts created (79%)

8 posts reblogged (21%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hermitcrossovers

@emptober

@sixteenth-days

@redwinterroses

@aetherthetypo

I tagged 39 of my posts in 2022

#nightraider writes - 28 posts

#writing - 26 posts

#empires smp - 13 posts

#writeblr - 13 posts

#poem - 12 posts

#pearlescentmoon - 9 posts

#writers on tumblr - 8 posts

#geminitay - 7 posts

#hermitcraft - 6 posts

#mythical sausage - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 74 characters

#like i know they say dont talk to strangers on the internet but if i didnt

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

There's a reason

It's called the Afterlife

It's a stopover

To the next life

A sort of punishment or reward

For how you lived

Ten lives you have

Each time a new body

Assigned to your soul

A brother and sister

Close as can be

Abandoned responsibilities

Now split in a warring species

The Farmer and the Sorcerer

They died for their Kingdoms

To sainthood and angelhood

They ascend

Two pairs of lovers

The mighty Ocean Queen

And the lover of the Sea

Reduced to a raccoon

And a firey blaze

Their counterparts

The Elf and the Cod

Now an inchling and thornling

The can't touch each other

The Jungle King felt guilt

For terrorizing the Gnome

So he takes it upon himself

To become Shulk a protect

See the full post

180 notes - Posted March 18, 2022

#4

Becoming Terrible and Beautiful

It's rather difficult to explain what it feels like to wither.

There's a monster inside Pearl, scraping out her guts and roaring. She supposes that's what anger and fear feels like. Her fingers are black, and so are her wings. Soot peels away from her dress. Sweat drips from her forehead. The breath in her lungs comes hard and fast and her eyelids flutter. Sausage is calling her name; she's calling his.

The last thing she feels is the burning in her heart.

Then her world is sunk in black, and the only light are the pinpricks of stars in the distance. She can't see, can't feel. There's no pain in her wings, or in her stomach, and her limbs no longer feel heavy. Pearl is dead, and this is her limbo.

It's really quite lonely in the space between.

Pearl may not have a physical body to feel, but her heart aches for those left behind. She worries for her pets, and Sausage and Gem and fWip. If Pearl had a body, tears would be streaming down her cheeks and blurring her vision. She'd be scraping her hair out, and struggle to breath.

But she's not. Instead, she floats in darkness, waiting for what comes next. The Void wraps around her, enveloping her in a hug. The world is dark, and she is dead and alone, but that's ok.

Because here's the thing about darkness and death. You cannot come out unchanged. You cannot leave nothing and everything without leaving a bit of yourself and taking some extra. So when Pearl emerges, she feels like she is owed much more than what was taken. The darkness took her mortality, her ties to the living realm. She takes back life, but a different kind, and yanks on a bit more, because is it not what she is owed? Gold and green sparks fill her vision, and molten metal floods her veins.

And the universe whispers who are you?

And she replies I am Pearlescentmoon.

And the universe whispers what are you?

And she replies a god.

And the universe whispers what will you do?

And she replies protect. Give second chances.

Because is that not what happened to her? This is her second chance. But it was not given. No, it was taken, by force and sheer willpower. She has always been a fighter, always with wolves by her side. They crowd around her now, and she's no longer alone. A shepherd's staff materialises in her hand. It is made out of wood, oak, and tipped with gold. It feels right, like it was made for her. A sword is strapped to her waist as well, a perfect replica of the one she used when she was alive. Her golden wings wrap themselves around her, like a hug. It makes her feel complete.

Finally, there's a light in the Void. A tiny dot of light shines in the distance, and Pearl knows it's the end. It grows brighter and brighter and brighter, until it's like looking at the sun. It burns, but she burns faster, harder, brighter. She exudes her energy, and takes control of the reins. But the light still fills her eyes, and she's blind, so she tugs on the reins, left, right, oops-

Then she blinks, and she's laying on the ground. Grass tickles her face, and another body lays on top of her. She closes her eyes. Pearl isn't quite ready to deal with anything yet. Besides, it's nice on the ground. The soft breeze, and the rhythmic breathing of the other person. The sound of voices starts, as well as footsteps landing. She opens her eyes to see Gem? is lying on top of her.

Somehow, she knows. This isn't her Gem. But she'll take it nevertheless.

Pearl gets up, gently shoving the other woman off. They seem to be in a small depression in the ground, a cave entrance to their left. She looks up, and the sun shines in her eyes. Bringing a hand up, she squints up at the rim of the hole.

And twenty-one faces stare back.

¤¤¤¤¤

Alright! This is actually quite long compared to everything else I've posted, so uh hey! Thanks for reading! Once again, constructive feedback is always welcome, and so are reblogs. This was also based on this post by @theminecraftbee (sorry for the pings, mate).

I really worked hard on this one, over maybe three weeks. The sort of thought process throughout this one, is what does a phoenix feel when it burns then comes back? I imagine it would hurt, and then you just... exist until you or someone else pulls you out. And Pearl has always been a fighter (cough cough double life cough cough Xornoth fight) so I think she'd claw and kick and scratch her way out. Of course, she ends up on Hermitcraft, where everyone is a god (or vaguely immortal or not human).

237 notes - Posted September 4, 2022

#3

Chains of Daisies

There are always flowers on Cleo.

Tucked behind her ear, or growing out of her orange mane, you can always smell the flowers. They are her trademark item, bringing sweet scents everywhere she goes.

It was Joe who started it. When she joined in season two, he remarked how plain she looked. Of course, Cleo wacked him, but he just ran away. She thought that was the last she'd see of him, but he came back a few minutes later, arms full of seeds and flowers. "Rotten flesh is like fertilzer, right? So you're the perfect place to grow flowers!" he informed her.

They started with the yellow roses. Joe braided them into her hair with practiced ease. He did this often for his daughter, he explained. The seeds were planted seeds in her skull. "They represent friendship," Joe mused. "Do they now?" she replied. He pulls out daffodils and plants them in her chest. "New beginnings and relationships." A dandelion in her shoulder. "Wishes for the future." She smiled at him. "Thanks, Joe."

It became tradtion to plant flowers at the beginning of a season. Sometimes it would be alliums, other times magnolias. Whatever it was, it was thing for her and Joe.

When Third Life came around, Joe wasn't there. So she scavenged around the server for seeds, and had Bdubs help her plant them. The only seeds she could find within the borders were purple hyacinths, for all the others had been claimed. On her final death, flowers bloomed.

Last Life was hectic. There were no flowers around to embed in her body, and the danger of the boogeyman loomed over to scavenge for more. When she allied with Scott, he gave her a small blessing. Flowers of her choosing would bloom, no matter when or how. It is rather uncomfortable to feel roots suddenly wrap around a still heart, but what can you do? A gift is a gift.

She prefers planting them with Joe, though.

During Double Life, the flowers grew rather involuntarily. Sunflowers wrapped their stems around her sternum, hopeful for the future. Over the course of the first session, they slowly began to wilt. By the end, black dahlias grew out of her hair and daisies wrapped around her wrist. When she set the Keep on fire, orange tulips wound around the hilt of her sword. And when she died for the last time, daffodils bloomed from her blood.

There are always flowers on Cleo.

¤¤¤¤¤

This is based on this prompt by @theminecraftbee for their ask game. I really had fun writing this, and plan to write for more of their prompts if they're ok with it. Ok, enjoy!

251 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

#2

Here's the thing about starting again.

It's jarring to be yanked out of the void you called home for the last four months. You land on top of the others, on a cold stony beach. The parrot man rips his suit off, and stretches his wings. You do the same. It's such a relief to be out, but you're reluctant to part with your friends, no, family. You all blink at the sunlight, and savor the warmth on your skin. It's time to start over.

Here's the thing about starting again.

You maybe, sort of feel guilty that you left her behind, although she did the same. She arrived on majestic eagle, the same one she escaped on. It's very difficult to look each other in the eye, so you don't. Instead, you both run opposite directions and feign ignorance.

Here's the thing about starting again.

You come back from the cold islands different. You fall and fall until you reach the ground. Then you realize everyone shifted in the in-between of seasons. Your best friend pulled through, although no-one but him knows how he did it. You shrug it off and help him with the starter hut.

Here's the thing about starting again.

You know you died. It happened when the moon crashed and smashed you to bits. But you shrug it off, and build a monolith out of broken pieces of moon. Fitting, considering what happened. This time 'round, you are a King, a ruler. You won't die this time.

Here's the thing about the world being born again.

In the beginning, you were together. At the end, you were together. And now you start again, the same song and dance. If this world ends like the last, then at least you're together.

¤¤¤¤¤

A small piece I've been writing since the season began. Very happy with this one.

256 notes - Posted June 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The sword in the medicine cabinet

There is a sword in the medicine cabinet.

And one under the bed, and in the hall, and in the iron farm, and stashed inside the door and strapped to False's waist and-

Ok. Maybe False is a bit paranoid. Maybe little more than a bit. The poison next to the sink probably is a sign. But she has every reason to be. She's woken up in a strange world, with no memories or friends, and everything's a little crap right now, so forgive her for being cautious.

False is fine.

She's starting to settle in. There's a rhythm and a schedule she sticks to, trying to get home. False builds and builds and builds until she's too tired to place another block. Her empire, or her temporary one, is taking shape, and she's quite content.

And sure, she's made a friend. Or two. Although she's heard fWip is friends with everyone, and Sausage just doesn't feel right. So maybe they're out to get her. Probably. In fact, maybe she should put another sword in the wheat field. Yes, that's a great idea. If everyone is out to get her, it's great to be prepared.

False is fine.

Besides, some memories are coming back. And they're all the more reason not to trust.

Whenever she holds an orange tulip there's a pain in her back, as though she's being stabbed. She sees a woman with the reddest hair, holding her in her arms. Her eyes are green, like emeralds, and they are full or tears. "I'm sorry," she mutters, sliding a knife out. "I promise I never meant to hurt you." False gasps for air, coughing up blood. "T-traitor," she rasps. Then she snaps back to reality. Her hands are sweaty, and the tulip is crushed. She decides to throw the remains into the lava.

The kingdom of Dawn won't receive visits from her any time soon.

Other times, she dreams. There's a long tunnel, and a woman dressed in pink. She wears a crown of flowers, chocolate hair contrasting with it. False stands, as she walks away, towards the light. "Wait!" she tries to scream. "I'm coming!" Her limbs won't move. The lady keeps going. "Come on, Falsie! Hurry up!" It echoes around her, taunting her frozen limbs. It's suddenly freezing in the tunnel, so she looks down. With horror, she realizes her legs are frosted over, and the ice is climbing to her neck. Desperately she tries to move, but it covers her vision in a blue tint. Breathing is hard through the ice, she suffocating, there's no oxygen she's going to die-

Then she jolts awake in bed, tangled in blankets. Her cat is snuggled by her feet, and the chicken is roosting on the bedside table. She tries to untangle herself quietly, but her cat gives a growl. She resolves to sort it out in the morning.

False is fine.

She just has to get home right? If she can remember where it is. Right. She just has to get home, and everything will go back to normal. False repeats it to herself everyday. What's normal though? What's waiting back home? She doesn't know. False only hopes it's good.

There is a sword in the medicine cabinet.

¤¤¤¤¤

Another piece? Within the same(ish) week? Gods, who am I? Anyways, this was a lot of fun. I took a bit more time on this one to perfect and polish, and I think it turned out great. Let me know what you think! If it wasn't clear, also, the two women mentioned are Gem and Stress respectively. Gem's one is a callback to her leaving False in Hermitcraft Season 8 (you know, "backstabbing" her) and Stress's one is a call back to her being the Ice Queen of Season 6.

This is based on @theminecraftbee 's post here. There is another fic in the works coming soon, and a poem as well, so keep an eye out for that!

428 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[kindahoping4forever]

Feedback // Ashton Irwin

I've been sitting on this fic for a minute so thank you to everyone who's patiently waited for me to post it (shoutout to Sly)! This story was really just me getting inspired and clowning after Ashton's "Down To Earth" IG stream back in April. As always, thanks to @cal-puddies for the invaluable guidance as I tried to pare my writing style down into a pwp format (try being the operative word, 3500 words is still the best we could do lmao).

Warnings: Distracted Boyfriend!Ash, oral sex on a male, moderately rough unprotected sex (on the red leather couch) including mild dirty talk, brief choking and a spank or two.

Word Count: 3535

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

"Baby! I didn't know you were home!"

You turn around to see Ashton in the doorway of the bedroom, voice as cheerful as the yellow beanie covering his head.

"Didn't hear you come in," he comments, walking over to you.

You slide your arms around your boyfriend’s neck with a sigh. "Rushed up here, phone was about two seconds from shutting off," you explain, greeting him with a tender kiss.

He watches as you kick off your shoes and yank your bra off under your shirt, tossing everything haphazardly in the direction of the closet before flinging yourself on the bed. "Tough day?"

You groan, dragging your hands over your face before extending your arms, encouraging him to join you. “Eh, not great and very long,” you report, giving a satisfied sigh when Ash climbs on the bed and immediately pulls you on top of him, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You do the same and the both of you lay quietly in this prone embrace for several peaceful moments before you break the silence. “How about you, how was your day?”

You feel him shrug under your body. “Can’t complain,” is his simple reply.

“Make anything cool?” You prompt, knowing he’s being low-key because he thinks you need to chill out, not realizing nothing relaxes you more than listening to him talk about his passions.

“Hmm… anything cool...” Ash giggles, hugging you closer. “I dunno, got a good start goin’ on this one track that could be pretty cool, got a nice vibe.”

You raise your head up to look at him and scratch your fingers across his beard, you’re so glad he decided to let it grow again. “Yeah? Tell me more.”

He hums as you continue to rub his face. “Only been at it for a couple hours, ‘s just a track for now, we’ll see what I can do with it,” he breezes, moving your hand from his face to his mouth so he can kiss it.

“Well, whenever you feel like you need a fresh pair of ears, I’d love to hear it,” you enthuse, moving to lay at his side.

He turns to give you a bright grin. “Yeah? A little in-house focus group?” He teases, leaning in for a sweet kiss that starts to get needy the longer it goes on.

You pull off his hat, running your fingers through his long hair as he moves to kiss along your neck. “Don’t know if you know this but I’m a big fan of your work,” you tease back.

He kisses your lips again, biting a bit as he pulls away to quip, “We talking ‘bout my music or something else?”

You giggle, deciding that indulging this frisky mood is exactly how you would like to unwind tonight. You inch closer, pulling him back into a kiss and he responds eagerly, hand coming up to massage at the base of your neck like it always does. For the next few minutes, the only thoughts in your mind revolve around Ashton, how he feels, how he tastes and where you need his mouth or hands on you next.

When you let out a moan at the way his fingers are gripping your skin under your shirt and he doesn’t press himself against you in response, you can tell he’s gotten distracted. You laugh knowingly against his lips, “You’re back to thinking about that song now, aren’t you?”

He looks at you with a sheepish smile. “I was actually still workin’ and came up here just to grab a hoodie when I found you.”

You playfully push him off of you, shaking your head. “Dude, you should’ve told me! You know I’m not one to fuck with The Process,” you admonish, scrunching your nose up at the trail of kisses he pecks over your face as he sits up.

“Nah, my brain needed a break and my girl needed me, it worked out perfectly,” he insists, rubbing your arm affectionately before getting off the bed.

He quickly fishes his desired sweatshirt out of the closet and pulls it on over his t-shirt, mussing his hair even more than you already had. He walks back over, ready to kiss you goodbye when you sit up on your knees to stop him. “I was serious about giving it a listen if ya want,” you say, smoothing his hair down before resting your hands on top of his inside his hoodie pocket. “If you’re not ready that’s fine but just FYI I‘m interested.”

Ash grins at you, squeezing your hands before using them to pull you to your feet. “Aww, you know you’re my fave audience, baby,” he gushes, reaching to grab his hat off the bed. “Let’s go give it a spin.”

“Well. As much as you can ‘spin’ a computer file,” you mutter, trying to annoy him just because it’s fun.

As you head for the door, you hear him snort behind you a split second before he grabs you, sliding his beanie on your head far enough to cover your eyes; you burst into giggles as he playfully bumps into you, passing you in the hallway. “Smart ass,” he grumbles, voice still smiling.

Ash makes it down to the basement first and starts clicking on files and flicking switches, excited to play his work for you. You stop at the foot of the stairs and survey the room with wonder. Multiple guitars - electric, acoustic, bass, 12-string - are strewn across the room, cables run from his computer to the adjacent room where he houses his drums, food delivery containers line the coffee table; he’s clearly been down here since you left this morning.

While he sets up, you make yourself useful, setting the guitars back in their racks, stacking the food trash; when you’re done, you start to drag a chair over to the computer when you notice he’s staring at you like you’ve grown an extra head.

“What are ya mad at me or somethin’?” He scoffs, patting his legs and looking at you expectantly.

You smirk and take a seat in his lap, watching closely as his long fingers fly over the keyboard, hand adeptly working the mouse, making a few final adjustments to the track. You hear a quiet “there we go” under his breath and then he’s settling in, pulling you back against him and rubbing over your thighs as you wait for the song to begin.

It’s a simple demo so far - layered background vocals, drum and bass, some synth, a little guitar line here and there - but he’s right, it’s definitely a vibe. You’re pleased that his reflection is visible in the computer screen, you love seeing him grooving behind you, pursing his lips and nodding his head along to the beat as you feel his fingers tapping along on your waist while he holds you close.

The track is short and before he can even ask your opinion, you tell him to play it again; his face lights up at your request and he proudly complies. When it finishes this time, you shift to look at him and smile. “That’s wild you did that all yourself and in such a short amount of time,” you marvel. “See, I was right, you did do something cool.”

Ashton laughs, kissing the side of your head as he leans forward to reach the keyboard. “You think so? Well, what’s really cool is this…” He starts clicking around again, isolating the different elements and revealing which sounds are electronic and which are live instruments, which section he thinks he’ll write lyrics over tomorrow, where he’s thinking of pasting in more guitar.

You respond when appropriate but mostly you just listen intently, watching fondly as he animatedly details his thought process; this is why you offered to come down here with him, this is the best part about being his “fave audience.” You love his music but more than that, you love how much he loves his music.

He stops mid-explanation of a section to tinker with it, clearly having a brainstorm right in front of you. You curl into his chest, observing quietly as he cycles through effects and begins stacking tracks. He chews his lip, deep in thought as he lets the song play again and you can't help but press a few kisses to his jaw.

Ash continues his work and you continue yours, moving from his jaw to his neck; your kisses eventually become more heated, with you adding tongue and even teeth to the equation. You suck his earlobe into your mouth, wiggling his earring with the tip of your tongue and finally he pulls away, chuckling, "Baby, come on."

You shrug, playing with his hair. "I just love watching you work."

He laughs, "Then goddamn, baby, let me work!" He growls as you nip at his throat and you smile to yourself because you can tell he's already rethinking his request.

"Seems like you shoulda thought about this before you invited a girl down to your basement to listen to some dreamy space pop alien makeout jam," you tease, relishing the feeling of his laughter vibrating his throat under your tongue.

"Can I get you to leave that review when this goes up on iTunes?" He cracks, finally turning his attention to you.

"I might be persuaded," you flirt, humming with victory as he pulls you into a hungry kiss.

Ashton wastes no time returning the affection you showed him, lips devouring yours, hands quickly making their way under your shirt to lazily massage your tits. You’re mid-moan, his fingers just about to make it inside your waistband when suddenly he’s pulling away.

It takes you a beat to realize what’s happened, your body confused by the sudden absence of his touch. You open your eyes to see him busy at the computer again and it’s so absurd to you, you have to laugh.

“Two minutes,” he says half-apologetically, half-distracted, squeezing your thigh but not taking his eyes off the screen.

You smirk to yourself, immediately aware of what your next move is. “Take as long as you need, baby. When genius strikes, you gotta go for it,” you state ominously, not that he notices. Nor does he notice you sliding yourself off his lap and onto the floor between his legs.

You run your hands up and down his thick thighs before letting your touch wander to the front of his jeans, palming over his crotch, happy to find that at least part of him was interested in your makeout session. You can’t decide if you’re more amused or annoyed by his focus but it’s not until your hand is on his cock, freeing him from his pants that he tears himself away from his project.

“Excuse me, ma’am, can I help you with something?”

You lock eyes with him as you stick your tongue out and dramatically lick your hand, coating your palm with saliva before giving his cock a tight squeeze and beginning to stroke him steadily. “I also had a genius idea I was just following through on,” you shrug. “Might take a little longer than two minutes, though, I’m a bit out of practice… my boyfriend’s been pretty busy.”

Ash giggles wildly, both at your joke and your audacity. “You’re crazy, I’m literally about to be done with… fuck…” His retort is interrupted by you, eyes still trained on his, licking long stripes up the sides of his cock, sucking gently at the head before licking your way back down.

“Go ahead and finish your work, baby, I’ll just keep busy until you’re done,” you insist, mischief in your eyes as you look up one last time before taking him into your mouth.

You hear a sharp inhale, a softly chuckled “fuckin’ ridiculous” and then finally, mouse clicks as he attempts to get back to it. You do your best to distract him, bobbing up and down enthusiastically, sucking loudly, humming around him, making sure he knows how much you’re enjoying your task.

It only takes a minute or so for him to get sidetracked by your efforts. “This is a shitty home demo I’ve spent all of 90 minutes on, there’s no way it’s so good you just had to have my cock right here and now,” he insists, struggling to keep his voice steady, not wanting you to hear how affected he is.

You pop off, gingerly playing with his balls as you zing back, “I dunno babe, you guys had plenty of shitty songs on your first album and from what I’ve heard, you did more than alright in the pussy department.”

Ashton’s laughter quickly turns to a strained moan as you slide back down on him, letting him hit the back of your throat. “My bad, didn’t realize I’d shacked up with a groupie,” he jokes. You silently congratulate yourself as you notice him flexing his hand into a fist, knowing he’s trying to keep himself from pressing down on your head.

You pull off him again, making sure to let the spit cascade from your mouth as you smugly reply, “Like I said before: big fan.” Before he can even think about responding, your mouth is back on him.

You’re not surprised he attempts to resume working again; you’re both stubborn, it’s a wonder anything ever gets resolved in your relationship. You can tell he’s trying his best to stay on task but the whispered curses under his breath give him away. As a last resort, he turns the volume on his speaker up a few more notches, hoping the track will drown out the exaggerated choking sounds you’re intent on making.

A few moments later, he reaches down and yanks his beanie off your head. “Fuckin’ bright yellow bouncing over my crotch is hard to ignore,” he grumbles. “All I see is my hat, looks like I’m suckin’ my own dick for all I know.”

You can’t resist continuing to rib him. “How is that not your greatest fantasy? Your favorite person giving you your favorite pleasure?”

He snorts, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, did you want to blow me or roast me?”

You give him your brightest smile and reply, “Unlike you, I’m pretty good at multi-tasking.”

A brief cackle and a clipped “alright” are all you hear before you’re being hoisted up off the ground, thrown over Ash’s shoulder and carried over to the couch across the room. You squeal with surprise and delight as he unceremoniously dumps you on it, briskly strips you both of your clothes and promptly bends you over the red leather.

He nudges your knees further apart, pressing you against the back of the couch. “Of course you’re this fuckin’ wet already,” he teases, breath hot on your neck as he runs himself through your folds. “You think that’s from my cock down your throat or from you winding me up so much?”

Whatever clever comeback you’d thought up dies on the tip of your tongue because suddenly he’s sliding his cock inside you and now that’s all you can care about. You whine as he quickly establishes a vigorous pace, one hand bracing himself against the couch, the other reaching around you, down your torso to reach your clit. “How’s this for multi-tasking?”

A few breathless cries of his name are the best you can manage as he relentlessly plays with you, somehow in perfect rhythm with his rough thrusts, sending your whole body into sensory overload.

“Or how ‘bout this?” He growls, moving his hand from between your legs to your throat, fingers offering just the slightest amount of pressure, knowing it’ll drive you crazy wondering if and when he’ll add more. “Don’t got any more funny jokes for me, baby?”

You moan at his taunting, placing a hand on top of his on your neck, trying to get him to squeeze harder; he refuses and his denial makes you moan even louder. "Jesus, Ash," you pant, pushing back against him to egg him on. “Feels so fucking good.”

You're so caught up that you don't even notice his song is still playing over the speakers until a few moments later when Ashton suddenly pulls out of you, muttering to himself as he grabs the remote from the coffee table and shuts the music off.

Confused, you look back and see him amusedly shaking his head. "Yes, I was still producing that in my head, don’t start," he giggles.

You fall back on the couch, laughing in disbelief. “We’ve gotta get you some hobbies, buddy, that’s insane.”

He snickers, laying you on your back and settling on the couch behind you, pulling your leg over his hip. “I don’t think fucking you counts as a hobby,” he jokes, gripping his cock and slipping it back inside you.

“Not with that attitude,” you quip, a little more breathlessly than you meant to but with how slowly Ash is rocking into you, you can’t help it.

You tilt towards him, angling yourself to pull his mouth down to yours; you’re feeling overwhelmed and you need him close. His tongue traces over your lips, his kiss the familiar reassurance you need in this moment. “Ash…” You whimper quietly, closing your eyes and savoring the feel of his beard grazing your skin.

“I know, baby, me too,” he soothes, cradling you tighter against him. His hips begin to pick up speed and his hand moves to knead your breasts and tug at your nipples before travelling further down.

Ashton rubs slow, tight circles on your clit, stopping to give your thigh a light smack when you start raising your hips a little too eagerly, bucking up in an attempt to get him to move at a speed more to your liking. You moan first at the realization that he’s going to keep teasing you like this and then again, louder, at the sharp slap of his palm that once again comes down on your skin.

“You’ve got a nice tone tonight, baby, I should get you to lay down some vocals for this track,” he jokes, choking back a moan of his own when your surprised laughter causes you to clench around his length.

You chuckle smugly at him, “Not so funny all of a sudden, huh?”

You feel yourself getting closer so you start rolling your hips along with his, murmuring at the feeling of him deep inside you; you grind against his hand playing between your legs and as he finally amps up the pace, your release becomes closer and closer to reality. Your breathing syncs with his in a needy, staccato rhythm that wouldn’t have sounded out of place in his song.

“Is this what you wanted?” He huffs out. Typically when he asks you that while he’s buried in you, there’s a tone of arrogance or punishment behind it but right now as he holds you, your sounds continuing to meld together, it couldn’t feel farther from that.

“Yes, Ash, god yes…” you breathe, reaching to hold onto him as your orgasm overtakes you.

Ashton keeps driving his cock inside you, whining slightly at the feeling of you pulsing around him. You cry out, not realizing how loud or long your moans are until you hear his voice in your ear, gently lulling you back down.

He’s still moving inside you, hips beginning to stutter and when you hear his breath catch, you know he’s there. You tuck yourself into him, cooing, “Come on, Ash... fill me up, babe.” Three strokes later and he’s pumping his cum inside you, gasping your name. He slows his movements, heavy breath underscored by a contented hum as you caress his bearded cheek.

He leans in and kisses you passionately, completely enveloping you, possibly your favorite feeling in the world. He exhales loudly and keeps holding you, kissing over your face tenderly.

You giggle as he indulges for a moment before reluctantly pulling away, reaching for the takeout napkins on the coffee table; he attentively cleans you up and quickly settles back onto the couch, pulling you on top of him.

You lay together, blissed out, while you play with the necklace hanging down on his chest and he strokes over your hair.

“Hey, sorry I gave you such a hard time,” you smile. “Didn’t realize how much I wanted your attention until I didn’t have it anymore.”

He looks at you, amused. “Honestly didn’t notice you acting any differently.”

You jab his side. “Also sorry I talked shit about your first album, I do actually like it quite a bit.”

Ash cackles, tracing designs on your back. “Oh good, I was worried that was going to be what finally drives us apart,” he cracks.

You snicker, nuzzling your head into his chest. You enjoy a few quiet moments together before he begins softly humming an unfamiliar melody and you smile, knowing his creative wheels are turning again.

You lift your head up again to offer one last apology. “I’m sorry I once again disrupted The Process.”

Ashton laughs mischievously, running his hands down your body. “I mean… overall I’d say this was some pretty valuable feedback.”

————-

Thank you to everyone who has signed up for the taglist, both for the support and the lovely (occasionally hilarious) feedback! If you haven’t signed up yet, the form is linked above! (If you signed up and your name is crossed out or not listed, I was unable to tag you, please check your blog settings and either re-sign up or send me a message letting me know you allow mentions now) @notinthesameguey @cxddlyash @2fangirl4u @cashtonasfuck @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @saywhatnow07 @mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @findingliam-o @fedorable-killjoys @trix-arent-for-kids @olivia-foster-irwin @saphseoul @calmsweetcreature @onthecliffside-mgc @feliznavidaddycal @himbohood @maggiesupertramp @wiiildflowerrr @karajaynetoday @ashtonangst @sunshineeashton @aladyofalbion @youngblood199456 @xsongbirdx @loveroflrh @fairytrice @calumrose @irwindoll @polycashton @in-superbloom

[littlefreya]

In The Shadow

Summary: Geralt and you are captured by the Darkling and about to find out his means of punishment are quite unusual.

Pairing: General Kirigan x Reader | Geralt x Reader

Words: 1.2k

Warning: 18+, Smut, dark themes. Dubious consent but I'll tag this as non-con just to be safe, mind manipulation, cuckolding, sex (p in v), voyeurism, captivity, bodily fluids, breeding. Proceed with caution.

I give no permission for reposting my work, copying it or parts of it.

A/N: Based on an anon request I received! This is the first Ben Barnes story and the first cuckolding story I write. Hoping I did well. Many thanks to @the-soot-sprite for reviewing this for me.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

In the Shadow

Kirigan was darkness itself, a shadow - seeping into the cracks inside your mind, altering your thoughts, your desires; love turned to pain. Hatred turned to lust, and all that you were before him remained nothing but black mist.

No. You did not want this.

At least that’s what you kept chanting inside your heart as the General had you sat, spread open upon his thighs with his hands conquering every inch of your flesh.

“She’s mine now, Witcher. Mine to pummel.”

No! You did not want him.

Then why were you slippery-slick with desperation? The pulsating rhythm between your thighs protesting with the rage of copulation: ‘I shall not be denied!’

Helpless, you tried to focus your blurry sight on the rust that devoured the iron bars, upon the prisoner who held onto them with hands stained of dirt and blood. Growling like an animal in its cage, Geralt rattled the iron, his honey-gold gaze kissed with red at the sight of Kirigan who had his hands trailing beneath your skirts.

“I can smell it…” the Darkling whispered against your neck, prying your legs further open for Geralt to see your glistening sex.

A pitiful cry escaped your lips, somehow, you could smell yourself too and the scent merely grew stronger as Kirigan ground his hardness against your ass.

“Maddening, isn’t it? The notion that I am going to slip myself inside you while your lover is standing right over there without any chance of rescuing you?” He provoked and took a nip of your neck.

“Did you two really think you can cross me without a price? Or perhaps this is what you wanted?”

“If you dare touch her…” Geralt barked, the veins in his forehead and throat bulging. Never have you seen him this full of rage, and Kirigan hasn’t even begun this torture.

Letting out a roar of laughter, the General sent his fingers to gently skim from your knees to your groin, pulling unbidden moans from your throat.

“Would I dare? Just look at her,” Kirigan taunted. “The dew is drizzling down her sweet little cunt, like fruit too ripe just begging to be plucked. I think your little mistress wants to feel me inside… don’t you?” He asked with a snarl and reached a hand behind your back.

“General...” you shivered and shook a face full of tears at Geralt.

The metallic clink of Kirigan’s belt being undone reverberated through the dungeon a dozen times more before something fleshy and hot grazed your inner thigh. There it was again, the ebony mist, pervading your mind, shrouding your thoughts and making them his own. Despite the screams of protest in your heart, your core twitched and fluttered, mesmerised by the thought of having Kirigan fuck you while Geralt was forced to watch.

Your glossy eyes met Geralt’s golden gaze in a silent plea for forgiveness.

You wanted this, your little hole gaping for the other man, clenching as he nudged the heart-shaped tip between your lust-swollen lips to tease you. A part of you dared to tear your eyes from the Witcher and peer upon Kirigan’s shaft; though you caved in for only a moment, enough to entwine your entire body with blazing flames.

He was marvellously large, almost as big as your Geralt. Briefly, you wondered if he would feel the same but your thoughts turned to dust in your skull at the sensation of his cock spearing inside you.

Yelps, growls, and shouts of protest boomed through each tunnel in the dungeon. Whatever false tenderness Kirigan presented before was abandoned as he impaled you wholly on his large shaft, pressing himself so deep that his sack was pressed tightly against your engorged lips.

For a sliver of a moment, he held himself still, making you feel the throbbing rage of his cock deep inside your gut. The pounding in your heart was so strong you heard it booming in your ears, muffling the shouts and barks of the Witcher, who made every attempt to break his cage.

“I will kill you!”

Kirigan chortled again. His long, slender fingers lifted to your neck and captured your jaw. He dug his thumb and index finger into the hollow of your cheeks while slowly beginning to move inside you, ending each thrust with a husky groan. Wet and sultry as you were, your walls strained against his invasion, almost incapable of taking him fully, though he ignored their protest and only sunk deeper.

“She is taking me so well,” Kirigan hummed with delight while you cried in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Your tearful eyes remained focused on Geralt, trying to imagine it was him who ploughed you, but with every moan, Kirigan huffed against your ear, with each pull and shove he made between your lips, your mind fell into a dark delirium and then it was no longer Geralt or Kirigan but both of them inside you at once, each man using your body to their selfish pleasure.

Unwittingly your hips swayed, meeting the General’s ruts, sinking down to take him even deeper.

“Dirty little whore,” Kirigan praised and nipped the thin skin of your neck before increasing the pace of his thrusts.

“Are you enjoying yourself as much as your woman is, dear Geralt? Would you mind dipping in later for sloppy seconds?”

Blood mingled with rust trickled down Geralt’s palms, coating the iron bars he held squeezed between his trembling fingers. Despite his waning strength, fire still burned in orbs, though it seemed that Kirigan’s shadow had manipulated him as well and he too had succumbed to lust.

Geralt was hard. Harder than you’ve ever seen before. Sweat layered his coarse face; the look that he gave you assured you the beast within him wanted nothing more than to break through its cage and rip you apart - perhaps join Kirigan in his defilement and claim your mouth... or ass.

As aroused as he was, he refused to relieve himself and only his glare spoke of the atrocities of his mind.

“Forgive me,” you mouthed before you let out a moan, allowing pleasure to sweep away whatever dignity was left to you. You could feel Kirigan swell larger inside you, and your slit instinctively clutched around him, the tidal bliss beginning to bloom like a ring of fire inside your womb.

Sensing your nearing ecstasy, Kirigan sent his hands to grab your thighs and held them spread mid-air while slamming into you with punishing might.

“Your witcher can’t breed you, can he?” he questioned breathlessly, “but I can…”

“No!” Geralt rasped and once again rattled the bars, in a failed attempt to break out.

“I think I will fill that womb full of my seed,” The Darkling groaned.

You cried out, whether, in pleasure or protest, you knew not. Your trembling cunt had already made its decision for you, suckling and milking around Kirigan’s cock with ardent enthusiasm as your pleasure erupted through. It was all he needed for his release. With a shout, he flooded your canal until your womb overflowed with his thick elixir and slow, thick rivulets drizzled down his shaft.

The cacophonous tantrum died all too sudden, leaving nothing but breathless pants and gasps and the trickle of water that echoed somewhere in the depth of the dungeon. Slow and careful, Kirigan released your thighs from his grasp, settling them down on the ground. His chocolate-brown eyes met Geralt with a dark smile glinting amidst them.

“I wonder…” he murmured joyfully, “which was it that aroused you more, my dear Witcher? Her? Myself? Or both?”

Credit: I do not own Shadow and Bone, General Kirigan, The Witcher or Geralt of Rivia

Dividers by the amazing @firefly-graphics

[tarithenurse]

Bookish - 2

Fandom: MCU AU Pairing: Loki x fem!reader Content: More awkwardness, an arrangement is suggested. A/N: Let me know what you think, if I should continue it. If you want a tag – send and ASK or reblog.

2.

You have had to go digging through your dresser to find a skirt (a pencil skirt of all things!) that works with your button-up shirt from work and as you look yourself up and down in the mirror, you can’t help but feel that you seem a tad too professional. Like a secretary at a big business.

Is this what he meant? A part of you doesn’t want to disappoint him.

A pair of pumps and some light makeup will have to finish the look and there’s nothing more you can do about it because it’s the only thing remotely similar to neat that you own.

Jittery from nerves, you’re out of the door way too early and have to wait by the now closed antiquarian long enough for the grocer next door to notice and start eyeing you curiously.

You’ve just about made up your mind to walk around the block when you spot Loki coming from down the street. He looks dashing as always. Sharp suit and a tie fastened with a pin that gleams with gold and emerald green in the sun. Mostly it’s his small smile that captivates you, though.

Then he notices you and the smile grows.

“[Y/N],” he beams and you notice the tiny nod of approval as he looks you over, “I hope you haven’t waited long?”

“Not at all,” you lie, butterflies crashing around in your stomach.

Small talking, the two of you begin to make your way up the street and you notice how Loki adjusts his pace to your smaller steps.

“So where are we going?” you ask.

“Wait and see...but we’re almost there.”

Thank fuck, you’re not used to wearing heels and your feet are already complaining.

Loki leads you to what appears to be a small Italian restaurant on a busy street. The facade is quaint and the moment the door opens, you’re greeted by the scent of fresh basil and other lovely herbs. A maître d’ stands at the ready and politely ushers the two of you to a table in a corner after Loki has stated his name.

The place itself is...well, you’re under-dressed, that’s for sure. Sparkling cream walls and heavy royal-blue velvet offsets the cherry wooden floors. There are tiny crystal chandeliers hanging over each table, fragmenting the light into rainbows that dance on blue tablecloths and pristine, golden cutlery.

The few patrons are all sharply dressed in much the same impeccably rich style as Loki and you can’t help but feel out of place. More so as the waiter holds out the chair for you. You know theoretically how to behave in a place like this. Know to accept the chair without looking or reaching for it even if it goes against your instincts. You’re also not surprised when the menu that you’re given doesn’t hold any prizes and either way, you’ve already guessed that this is far above your pay grade.

“We’d like two prosecchi,” Loki orders.

The man nods. “Yes, mister Laufeyson. Right away.”

“Loki,” you mumble once the maître d’ is gone, “are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” he smiles. “Now if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.” He must have noticed your bewilderment at the many options on the menu because he continues on the same breath: “I’m going for a starter and a single main course but you can decide on anything you want.”

“Thank you,” you say and mean it.

A waiter comes with two tall glasses of bubbly wine and leaves again without a word, giving the two of you time to make up your mind what to eat and drink.

Most of the dishes are things you’ve never tried but you spot a starter that seems safe in its simplicity (a so-called Insalata Caprese with mozzarella, tomato, and basil) but you’re stumped when it comes to the main course.

“Their saltimbocca is impeccable,” Loki murmurs discreetly.

Of course you end up going with his suggestion once the waiter comes to take your order.

“Now,” Loki begins after you’ve both have a sip of the bubbly drink, “I’m sure you want to know what this is all about?” You nod. “It is, quite frankly, something I’ve never attempted before and I hope you won’t think ill of me for suggesting this but -” he pauses to taste the words before uttering them -”I would like to be your...sponsor. A monthly allowance and whatever gifts I deem appropriate in exchange for you to focus on your studies and your company when required.”

A sugardaddy arrangement?! Never in your wildest imagination had you seen this coming and you can’t help but sit with your mouth open. Just then the waiter comes with the first wine and you quickly snap your mouth shut. Both of you wait (more or less patiently) for the waiter to finish and leave.

“Excuse me?” you blurt in a hush. Loki recoils visibly and you can’t help but feel sorry for him: he’s put himself out there to come with this offer and you...well what are you meant to say? “Don’t get me wrong it’s quite an offer, but...why? How?”

“I find you intriguing, find your company soothing and your mind fascinating. I know you still haven’t found a new job but that you need the financial buffer to see you through university...and I do hate to see a brilliant mind wasted. In other words,” Loki is speaking faster and faster, “it is mainly for selfish reasons because I enjoy the time we’ve spent together.”

You take a big swig from the prosecco, the tart bubbles prickling your nose. “So what would...would we...is this...?” You can’t find it in yourself to ask what really bothers you: do you expect sex in exchange? You don’t know much about these sort of things, but you’re well aware of how romance novels and smuttier books portray this sort of relationships.

Green eyes dart around the place to ensure no one is listening in. “I am not soliciting you to have sex with me.”

A part of your body heats at the thought and you can’t help but consider what it would be like. I could have survived it, maybe liked it, you realize with horror.

“Then what sort of company do you mean?”

Loki breathes out slowly as if to rid himself of the nerves that you feel too. “I’m often required to attend formal events of various types. They would be much less boring if you were to come with me.”

“So a plus one sort of thing?”

“Exactly.”

The waiter appears with the food and silence engulfs the table until he leaves, having briefly explained various details about the dishes.

You dig into your starter (or antipasto, as the menu had called it) with shaking cutlery. Across from you, Loki is doing the same although he seems somewhat elated now that he’s made his offer and you find yourself to be considering it. Am I crazy?

“Tell me more about this arrangement,” you hear yourself prompt him.

[charles-rxwlands]

lay all your love on me

okay!! so this is my fic for @magpiencrow's 1.2k writing challenge.

this is based off of the song lay all your love on me, slowed, by putin

pairing: nikolai/reader

rating: general

tags: gn!reader w/ gn pronouns, fluff

summary: falling in love with nikolai lantsov told through several vignettes

or: mindless nikolai/reader fluff with a alina and ivan being little shits

warnings: right off the bat there's a nightmare about drowning in the ocean, and there's one (1) swear word at the end, but other than that, there's nothing

word count: 4.1k

read on ao3

constructive criticism, feedback, and reblogs are greatly appreciated !

I haven't written anything in a while, so i may be a bit rusty, but please enjoy :)

You were drowning, and also pretty damn sure you were going to die out here. Your lungs were on fire, screaming for air, but you couldn't emerge from the ocean for long enough to suck in a breath. Sure, your hand or head breached the surface every now and then, but a wave would come crashing down on you immediately after, destroying all your progress.

      The undulating waves threw you around like a football - a very pathetic one, at that. As hard as you tried to fight the current, it still insisted on moving against you (stubborn bastard), so really you weren't going anywhere. Just pathetically bobbing around in the same pathetic place. You couldn't feel your limbs - the only thing you could feel was the agonising ache in your chest. It was as if your arms and legs had frozen over along with your will to live.

      How easy it would be to just... 

...let the ocean take you...

      Suddenly, someone grabbed you by the wrist. You screamed, which was a mistake; immediately, salty seawater filled your mouth, making you gag and choke. Nevertheless, you valiantly tried to release yourself from whoever - whatever? - had their hold on you. 

      "Y/n, Y/n! Relax, darling, relax," a voice said, sounding out of breath. "It's me."

      You whirled your head around. Sagging with relief, you gasped out the name of your saviour. "Nikolai."

      "Yes. Yes, Y/n, my love, it's me. It's Nikolai," he soothed, running his hands over your wet hair.

      "Nikolai," you breathed. "Nikola-" - a wave reared up on its hind legs, ready to come crashing down onto your friend, ready to take him away - "no, no, Nikolai, NO-!"

   

You startled, eyes flying open. You were shaking like a leaf. Were you cold, or was it just the adrenaline from the nightmare still making its course? You shook your head as if to rid your mind of the dream. It wasn't real. Nikolai had saved you that night. It was fine. It wasn't real.

      But it could very well have been real, a traitorous voice in your mind whispered. Scowling, you cursed your pessimistic side. Even if a wave had separated you two, Nikolai would have fought tooth and nail to get to you again. You would have done the same. After all, you were childhood friends, and you knew better than anyone that Nikolai didn't let go of his loved ones so easily.

      He hadn't wanted you to accompany him on his journey overseas as Sturmhond. You insisted otherwise, channeling some of Nikolai's stubbornness that had rubbed off on you. ("You're not getting rid of me that easily, idiot. So let me come, unless you want me to steal your kneecaps."). 

      A half-smile appeared on your face as you thought back to the memory. Slowly, you got up from your bed. Your blanket was draped over your shoulders. You slipped out of your cabin quietly, walking down the hallway until you found yourself in front of Nikolai's room. He stirred in his sleep when you entered. The door creaked slightly, but it didn't seem like his distress was because of the noise.

      You sat on the edge of his bed. Nikolai, previously facing away, turned over to face you. His eyes were still screwed shut, eyebrows knitted together and an unhappy expression on his face. You frowned. 

      "Nikolai." you nudged him gently. "Wake up. You're okay, just wake up. It's just a dream."

      He opened his eyes, blinking at you. "Y/n?"

      "Hi," you said. A lock of golden hair fell over his forehead, and upon instinct, you reached to brush it away. He let you, not uttering any of his usual complaints. 

      "You were gone," he mumbled, undoubtedly referencing his nightmare. "I- I couldn't save you, and you were gone." 

      You shifted into a more comfortable position - your whole body was on the bed now, with your back against the headboard. He leaned his head against your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair. "It wasn't real. It's okay. You saved me - I'm not going anywhere, 'Lai."

      "Me either," he agreed, wrapping his arms around your middle. A beat of silence. Then, "Thank you."

      You were more than content to fall asleep like this. Even if it meant waking up with an ache in your neck. Judging from the way he was curled up, practically drinking in your presence, Nikolai felt the same way.

      What a feeling it was to have found solace in Nikolai Lantsov, and to know he had found solace in you, too.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nikolai's pov

Nikolai watched from the corner of the ballroom as you laughed at one of Ivan's jokes. One would say that he was scowling, but the Prince of Ravka didn't scowl. No - he was simply observing your conversation with the Heartrender with visible distaste. He was not scowling. And he was not jealous.

      You and Ivan were smiling at each other, standing by the refreshments table, mouths moving quickly, the both of you obviously interested in whatever you were talking about. You threw your head back in a laugh. You looked gorgeous. Nikolai wanted to make you laugh like that - more than he wanted to admit.

      The last straw was when Ivan lay a hand on your shoulder, and then snaked his arm around you. You didn't seem perturbed by his touch - no, actually, you leaned into it. He bent down to whisper something in your ear that made you duck your head in embarrassment and lightly hit his chest. 

      Nikolai's glare deepened, if that were even possible. Okay, fine, maybe he was jealous. Did he even have the right to be jealous, though? It wasn't as if he was dating you, as much as he'd like to be.

And oh boy, he'd like to be. 

      Suddenly, Alina appeared at his side, seemingly out of thin air. He flinched. "Alina." 

      The girl in question had a mischievous look in her eye. Her hands were clasped in front of her, the long, flowy sleeves of her dress falling just past her wrists. The bottom half of her gown was a sparkly gold, whereas the top half was a dark blue. The two colours faded into each other at the middle, creating a gradient effect. It was a beautiful dress. You had helped Alina pick it out yourself, if he remembered correctly.

      "Hello, loverboy." she poked him in the side, grinning knowingly. "How's your crush on Y/n going for you?"

      "I don't have a crush on them, Alina, for Saint's sake."

      "Oh, is that so? You do seem... ah, what was the word... utterly whipped for them, contrary to what you just said," she said, tilting her head to the side, feigning innocence.

      "Am not," he argued. "I-," Nikolai paused, taking notice of you and Ivan walking past a couple metres away. Unfortunately, you were too engrossed in your current conversation to notice him. His eyes lingered on you. He only looked away when you disappeared back into the throng of people. 

      Alina let out a triumphant 'ha!'. 

      He directed his attention back to her and glared. "Alina, I swear-,"

      "Utterly. Whipped," she mouthed.

      "I will behead you," he threatened.

      She laughed. "In all seriousness, I really don't think Y/n and Ivan like each other like that," Alina said.

      "Well, of course not," he agreed. "Y/n very clearly has eyes for me. I can't say I blame them - who could resist all this? Everyone's all over me, as I'm sure you've noticed." 

      Alina stared at him pointedly.

      "Ah, except for you, of course. You seem to be the only one immune to my charm and charisma. An odd one, you are."

       She rolled her eyes. "Why do I even bother," she groaned. "Just swear to me that you'll tell Y/n you like them soon. Within a week. Swear on... your dignity."

      "My dignity?" Nikolai drawled.

      "Yes, your dignity, because if you don't fess up soon, I'll have to tell Y/n about your crush on them myself," she grinned smugly, and darted off before Nikolai could retort. 

      He sighed. As he saw it, he had three options:

      1. Blackmail Alina (because of course she wouldn't give in to simple bribery)

      2. Get on his knees and beg Alina to not tell you of his massive crush (there! he admitted it; he had a massive crush on you! One that he'd been harbouring for just over a year now, too)

      3. Listen to Alina, and confess on his own terms

      All three were mortifying, and things he absolutely didn't want to do. However, the last was considerably easier to do, and came with the most benefits and the least consequences. You had already seen him through his most embarrassing moments (and he through yours) so even if you rejected him, the humiliation would be minimal. 

      And maybe he wanted to confess. And maybe there was hope that you liked him back. Nikolai wasn't stupid - he knew when people fancied him. He suspected you liked him back, but then again, that could've been wishful thinking, or maybe he was misreading the entire thing.

      He didn't even understand why he was so jealous of the way Ivan and you had interacted. Before he had fallen heads over heels in love with you, his childhood best friend, people flirting with you hadn't been a problem. He'd encouraged it, even. But now, bitterness flared up inside of him every time he saw someone getting a bit too cozy with you. 

      In short, his feelings for you had completely destroyed his facade of smooth, suave, sexy Prince of Ravka. And it kind of terrified him how poorly he hid it.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nikolai had been acting strange lately, and it was bothering you. You feared the worst - had he finally caught on to your crush? You thought you'd been subtle until Ivan had approached you at the most recent party. Apparently, the scowl on your face as you watched Nikolai flirt with the guests had been fierce enough to kill.

      Ivan had given you (unsolicited) advice, telling you to be straightforward and direct. That was what he'd done with Fedyor, after all, and that had worked out well.

      You were pacing around your room. Ivan was perched on your bed, watching you have a borderline nervous breakdown like one would watch the view. 

      "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Ivan?" you demanded. "I'm about to make a life or death decision, and you're enjoying it."

      He chuckled. "I wouldn't call this a life or death decision, Y/n. If Nikolai rejects you, he rejects you, and it's his loss. If he reciprocates, good, and you'll be free to frolic in the meadows with him, all fine and dandy."

      You stared at him, your expression communicating, "Did you really just say that?", very clearly.

      "Okay, okay, fine, I'll be serious." Ivan relented. "Just tell him, Y/n. What's the worst that could happen?" 

      Just as you were about to respond - "Well, I don't know, what if he rejects me, things become eternally awkward between us, and our 10 year long friendship is ruined because I couldn't keep my mouth shut?" - someone knocked at the door. You opened it to find Nikolai waiting. His hair was perfectly styled, as always. He wore a dark turquoise suit jacket, and a simple white dress shirt underneath. The ghost of a smile appeared on your face; you had chosen the colour for him.

      "Hi, Nikolai," you greeted. 

      "Hello," he said. "Come on a walk with me. It's a lovely day outside, and both of us have been dreadfully busy lately - we may not get another chance to spend time together, I'm afraid."

      "Oh! Of course, just let me grab more suitable shoes- I'll be out in a minute- Ivan, move." You rummaged around your room in search of the sandals Nikolai had gifted you for your most recent birthday. Ivan flashed you a grin.

      "Tell him!" he whispered as you ducked out the door.

      You hoped you didn't seem too jittery as you took Nikolai's arm, even if your insides were filled with butterflies. He seemed deep in thought for the first few minutes of your walk. It wasn't until you were both outside that he finally spoke.

      "I hope you don't mind me asking, Y/n, but what was Ivan doing in your room?" he asked. 

      The question caught you off guard. Why was he so concerned about you and Ivan? It wasn't as if-

      Oh.

      Oh.

      "Nikolai, don't tell me- are you jealous?" you exclaimed.

      "Just answer the question, Y/n," he grumbled, which was enough of an answer for you.

      You laughed, only feeling a bit bad that you were so amused. Nikolai Lantsov, jealous. You found that incredibly funny. "Oh, I'm sorry for laughing," you apologised, even as another giggle escaped your mouth. "You don't have to worry, Ivan and I are strictly friends."

      He didn't seem convinced. "But the two of you at the party a few days ago-,"

      You cut him off. "Nikolai. I promise that there is nothing romantic going on with Ivan and I. And besides, I don't think I'm anywhere near his type."

      "Ivan likes men, Nikolai," you supplied, sensing his confusion. "Honestly, you need to keep up with gossip - he and Fedyor have been going strong for nearly three months now."

      "Oh," Nikolai said.

      "Yeah, oh."

      "And, uh, do you? Like men, I mean?" 

      You bit back another laugh. "Yes, I do. One man in particular, actually." 

      "Is that so? Care to clue me in on who this man is?"

      "You." 

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nikolai's pov

"You."

      As soon as that single word came out of your mouth, Nikolai's brain short-circuited, and several alarms blared in his mind. ALERT! ALERT! THE PERSON YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH LIKES YOU BACK! 

      He was too stunned to speak, which was definitely a first. So, naturally, he didn't speak, but instead leaned in to kiss you. His lips brushed chastely against yours. A pause. 

      "I- I'm really sorry, Y/n, I should have asked beforehand-,"

      "Nikolai." you took his face in your hands. "Shut up." 

      And then you kissed him, and if his brain had been short-circuiting before, this was a full blown system failure. Sparks flew inside of him, and he was acutely aware of you and you only. It was a wonderful feeling, one that he immediately missed when you pulled away.

      "Wow," you said. 

      He grinned. "I'm that good of a kisser, huh?"

      When usually you would come up with a witty response, you just smiled. It was a smile Nikolai was pretty sure he'd die to see again. 

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Falling in love with Nikolai had been a long process. Your simple crush developed into something deeper like a leaky faucet dripping - slowly, but steadily. And then the realisation that you were in love with him hit you like a tidal wave. Drowning you, consuming every inch of your being, but not necessarily in a bad way.

       You came to your epiphany while laying awake in bed one night after a whole day spent with the esteemed King of Ravka. It was a wonder that you'd managed to spend a whole 10 hours or so in his company without getting fed up, Tamar had teased. He did annoy you - and had today - but you bullied him back plenty enough. It was easy being with him. Easier than you were used to. 

       You loved the way his eyes sparkled after correcting someone on their use of the word 'impossible'. Loved how he devoted himself to his country so selflessly. Loved how he smiled at you so genuinely and lovingly, even when you didn't have the energy to show your love in return after a bad day. Saints, you loved him so, so much, and you were so in love with him, too, and-

       Holy shit. You were in love with Nikolai.

       You were in love. With Nikolai.

       A childish giggle bubbled up inside of you, and you sighed happily. What a feeling it was to be in love with the King of Ravka, even if he didn't know it yet. 

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

You twirled a small flower around in your hands as you walked side by side with Nikolai, your shoulders brushing occasionally. The taller blades of grass tickled your ankles, and a gentle breeze weaved through your hair. The sun peeked out from behind a few clouds, warming your face.

     Nikolai intertwined your fingers, sighing in content. He craned back his neck to meet the sunshine, eyes fluttering shut. He looked stunning, just standing there with his almost otherworldly beauty as light spilled over his fine features, highlighting every detail.

     "I'm in love with you," you blurted suddenly. "I love you, and I'm also in love with you, so. Yeah. I'm in love with you, Nikolai Lantsov."

     You gave yourself a mental round of applause for your eloquence and tact.

      He blinked. "Oh." The ghost of a smile appeared on his face, turning into a full-fledged grin when he finally processed your words. "Oh. I'm... I'm in love with you, too, Y/n L/n."

      You beamed back at him, and cupped his face in your hands. You gently ran your fingers against his cheeks, tracing a line down to the base of his chest. The fabric of his shirt was thin and soft, unlike the suffocating material his suits were made of. Lovingly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you close. Your heart fluttered. Saints, you adored Nikolai. More than you could put into words. 

      "I love you," you whispered. "I love you so much, so intensely that it consumes me, and I'm drowning in it. But instead of it being hard to breathe, it makes breathing easier. It makes everything easier." 

      You interrupted your little speech by kissing him, just because it felt appropriate, and continued. "I was so lost without you, Nikolai. I didn't realise it, because as I've proved time and time again, I'm more than capable of holding my own-" you smirked as he rolled his eyes at the jab to his overprotectiveness "-but I was. I was a boat lost at sea, floating around in the waves, with no destination and no goal except surviving. Then you came along, and gave me solace. You were my salvation. You and your endearingly stupid jokes and your wild yet grounded behaviour. You're my anchor, Nikolai." 

      He laughed, but not in the mean way. In the happy way. 

      "I would pay you back with a monologue of my own," he said. "but all I can think of right now is how perfect you are, and how much I want to kiss you."

      Your smile widened, if that were even possible. You met him midway, lips connecting almost desperately. The only coherent thought running through your brain was 'Nikolai, Nikolai, Nikolai.'

      Nikolai.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

"That one looks like a dragon," you said, pointing out a lumpy cloud in the sky.

      Nikolai tilted his head to the left. It was rather cute - he looked like a puppy, trying to figure out what its owner was saying. His right eyebrow curved in an upward arch (you still had no idea how he managed to raise a single eyebrow at a time), and he pouted slightly. Adorable.

      "I don't see it," he deadpanned.

      You sighed and shook your head, dismissing the cute puppy ideology. "Nevermind," you huffed. As hard as you tried to pretend you were upset with him, a smile teased at the corners of your mouth, anyway.

      "I'm sorry, darling, but I really don't!" he exclaimed, flopping back into the picnic blanket you two had laid out. Really, it wasn't even a picnic blanket. It was just a blanket. The two of you hadn't had time to find a proper one before embarking on your impromptu picnic. Nikolai, ever the improviser, had then brandished a quilt from Saints knew where. You suspected it came from Vasily's room, because who else would be pompous enough to own a red velvet blanket the size of China?

      You dramatically exhaled again. "I already said nevermind. Not all of us can be blessed with a creative vision such as mine, after all."

      Nikolai laughed. And Saints, the sound was downright melodic. You didn't even want to begin thinking about all the things you'd do to hear it one more time.

      A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Eventually, he began stroking your palm with his callouses fingers. You bit back a smile, and linked your pinkies together. A gathering of clouds mostly covered the sun - enough to allow only a bit of warm, gold light to seep out. You wondered briefly how Nikolai looked right now, basking underneath the faint sunshine. 

      The answer came to you easily, even without looking at him: fucking beautiful. 

      However, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of staring at him. The last time he had caught you gaping at him like a lovesick fool, he had teased you endlessly. It was ridiculous. It wasn't as if he didn't stare at you. No, actually. He stared at you all the time. In fact, he was doing it right now.

      You bit back a grin when you felt his eyes on you. But before you could tease him for it, he got up suddenly, offering you a hand.

      "Come on," he urged. "Follow me."

      "Where to?" you questioned curiously.

      He smirked. Tugged on your hand. Winked. "You'll see." 

      "Right, that's not cryptic at all," you muttered. 

      Eventually, after a minute or so of walking (and plenty of you trying to weasel more information out of him) the two of you had seemed to reach your destination. A huge tree hung above you, offering its shade. You plopped down, but Nikolai remained standing.

      Strangely, he was looking rather nervous. Repeatedly tugging at the collar of his beige button-up shirt, and kicking at the grass. 

      "Y/n, darling, don't just sit there, you're making me nervous," he whined. 

      You giggled, but stood up anyway. "I could say the same about you. What's on your mind, dear?"

      He took a deep breath, and looked you dead in the eyes. "I love you, Y/n. I love you, and I'm in love with you. I always have, and always have been. It's just- you're wonderful. And intelligent. And charming. And I am so, so glad you are my partner - in the romantic sense, and the platonic sense. If I'm being honest, I'm quite sure I'd be tearing at the seams without you to sew me back together every time I do something particularly foolish. 

      And I hope you'll always be there to ground me. Because I will always be there for you. Th-there's no other way to say this, my darling, but I'd quite like to spend the rest of my life with you, so..."

      He brandished a dark blue box from his back pocket (this probably wasn't the time, but you had to mention that you could never fit something that large in your pocket. Why did men's clothing always have bigger pockets?) and got down on one knee. 

      "Will you do me the honour of marrying me, Y/n?" he finished.

      Holy fuck. Holy mother of Saints. Holy everything. Was this real? Saints. This really was real, wasn't it? Nikolai Lantsov was proposing to you.

      A sob escaped from your throat, and you nodded frantically, not wanting him to think you were upset. "Yes," you said. "Saints, Nikolai, yes."

      He smiled. You knew that he smiled a lot, but this smile was different. Usually, he just grinned or smirked in a devilish way - this was more of a beam. He looked so genuinely happy (genuinely happy, because of you!) that it made your heart soar, and you were pretty sure you fell in love with him all over again for the second time. You'd never get tired of it, though. Not when it came to Nikolai (Nikolai, your husband-to-be!). Never when it came to Nikolai.

      You soon found yourself enveloped in a hug. He spun you around, both of you laughing (and crying). When he set you down, you could have sworn you saw his eyes welling up.

      "Now, my love, those better be happy tears," he tutted.

      "Of course they're happy tears, you stupid puppy dog!" you sniffed. "I love you."

      He beamed into your hair. "I love you, too, Y/n."

      What a feeling it was to be in love with Nikolai Lantsov, and to know that he was in love with you, too.

[thetravelerwrites]

Errol (Naga) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Cheating, Infidelity, Break-ups, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Secretly In Love, Angst, Sex, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Dom/Sub, Ovipositor, Oviposition, Pregnancy, Babies, Eggs, Egg Laying Words: 7887

A commission for @anjhope1​​! After catching her fiance cheating, the reader breaks up with him and goes home miserable. The ex-fiance's brother, Errol, arrives on his brother's order to get his things from her apartment, but Errol is more interested in taking care of the reader and making sure she's okay. It leads to some confusing feelings and a confession. Please reblog leave feedback!

The Traveler’s Masterlist

You’d had your suspicions for a while, but it wasn’t until you got the message on social media from a girl he’d dated and dumped who had photographic proof of it that you finally had to face the truth.

Your fiance was cheating on you.

Eric was a naga and had been with you for more than five years. He had asked you to marry him, ring and all, on New Years Eve with his family. He had made a big show of it, too. And now, you were going to have to confront him about being a cheating bastard.

The woman who had been dumped told you that he was now dating her friend, and she had gotten the room number where they were supposed to meet. You got to the hotel with your heart in your throat and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” That was definitely Eric’s voice. He had told you that his friend needed help moving and that he’d be staying over to help him. What a good friend he was.

You deepened your voice in an effort to mask it. “Room service.”

“Oh, good, I was wondering if you were ever going to come,” Eric said, and the door swung open. As soon as he saw you, the blood drained out of his already pale face.

“No, wait--”

“Hey, babe, did they bring the right wine this time?” A female voice said from inside.

You took off your ring and threw it in his face and called inside the room, “You can have the bastard.” And walked away.

“Wait, please, this isn’t what you think,” Eric said, slithering quickly down the hall to catch you. He grabbed your arm and you wrenched it violently out of his grasp.

“Babe, who’s this?” The woman said. She was human and pretty, you guessed.

“I’m his fiance,” You retorted. “Oh, sorry, ex-fiance. Don’t worry, he’s all yours.”

“What the fuck, Eric?!” She shouted at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“Rachel, it’s not…” He stuttered. “It isn’t…”

Rachel slapped him and pushed past you toward the elevator, not looking back.

“Babe--” He started, turning back toward you.

“Don’t you dare call me ‘babe,’ you son of a bitch. Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you waste five fucking years of my life?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“I don’t give a shit what you meant to do! I want an explanation. Was the sex bad? Do you not love me anymore? Are you just the type of person who has to have a side-chick? What? What about this is good for you? What about all this made destroying our relationship worth it?”

He groaned and scratched his head with both hands. “I… It… I can be anything I want to be with those girls, you know? If I say I’m rich, then I’m rich. If I say I’m successful, then I’m successful, and they don’t know better. They don’t know I have a shitty job that I hate. They don’t know that my girlfriend makes twice as much money as me, that she’s popular with people and everyone likes her better than me, even my own fucking family. They don’t know what a fucking loser I am.”

“And that’s my fucking fault?!” You screamed at him. “You know what you could have done instead of ruining a five year relationship? Gotten fucking therapy! Or, better yet, talked to me about it! I have been nothing but supportive of you. I have encouraged you to leave your job and find a better one. I told you I would support you until you found something that made you happy. You could have gone back to school or done and apprenticeship or vocational work, whatever, and I’d have been there! You could do whatever you wanted, and I would have helped you, and you know that!”

“Right, because you so fucking perfect, huh?” He yelled back. “It’s not enough that you rub your perfect job in my face every day and go around spending whatever you want because you don’t have to worry about money, but you also have to be perfectly supportive and perfectly giving and perfectly loving, too, right? How am I supposed to feel good about myself when you’re always better than me at everything?”

“So, it’s my fault you’re cheating on me because I’m a good girlfriend? Is that what you’re saying to me? I’m too fucking nice, so you had to put your dick in random women to feel better about yourself?” You raised your hands as if surrendering and shook your head in disbelief. “You know what? Fucking forget me. Forget our relationship, forget getting married, forget you ever knew me, forget my fucking face, don’t ever come to my house, don’t ever message me again, delete my number from your phone. As far as you’re concerned, I don’t exist to you, because you sure as shit don’t exist to me anymore.” You turned to leave.

“What about my stuff?” He protested.

“Send your brother to come get your shit,” You said without turning. “If you set foot on my property, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. I’m not fucking around. I’m so fucking glad you never moved in when I offered. ”

“So that’s it?” He said as you waited for the elevator to come back up. “You’re not even willing to work this out? It’s just over?”

“Get fucked, Eric,” You said, stepping into the elevator. “Oh wait, you already did. Do yourself a favor and sell that ring to pay for a therapist.” And the door closed on him.

As soon as the elevator started to move, you hit the floor and sobbed. Why? Why was he like this? You thought everything was perfect up until a few months ago, and you hadn’t know he felt like this. He always seemed happy. How were you supposed to know otherwise if he never said anything?

How you got back home, you didn’t know, because you didn’t remember it. You grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the freezer and didn’t even bother with a glass. For about an hour, you just sat there disheveled on your couch, crying and drinking.

Sometime later, there was a sheepish knock on your door. You hoped to God that it wasn’t Eric, but when you opened the door, Errol was there. Errol, Eric, and their sister Enya, were all from the same clutch of eggs, so he looked a lot like his brother in that they all had white, black, gold scales, golden eyes, cream colored skin, and blond hair. Errol was a bit larger that Eric, and where Eric wore his hair short, Errol kept his long and braided back. You always thought that it made him look elegant, despite his size. He was still wearing his work clothes, as if he’d just come from his construction job.

You and Errol hadn’t spent much time together alone, since Eric was a little jealous of other men. He’d always been very nice to you, though, and liked you just as well as the rest of his family. He’d even given you advice a few times in the past when you and Eric were fighting.

“Can I come in?” He asked, wincing.

“Did you know?” You asked him, your throat raw and hoarse from crying.

“No, I didn’t know,” He said solemnly.

“Don’t bullshit me, Errol,” You replied harshly.

“I swear I didn’t know. I would have told you, I promise. My brother can be an asshole, but I never thought he would do something like this.” Errol grimaced. “Are you okay?”

“Do I fucking look okay?” You retorted, your voice shaking as the tears returned. “If you’ve come to get his stuff, just get it and leave.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about his stuff, I’m here for you,” Errol said. He held up a couple of plastic bags. “I brought take out and ice cream.”

“I’m not hungry,” You said vaguely, but you moved aside to let him in.

“I got alcohol, too,” He said as he slithered inside. “I could make you a Bailey’s float.”

You sighed and sniffled. “Okay.”

You sat at your table as he bustled around making the drink, laying your tear-flushed face on the cool surface of the wood.

“What did I do wrong?” You asked weepily with your cheek pressed against the table.

“Nothing,” Errol said as he lay the glass in front of you, moving a chair so that he could coil up next to the table. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did he do it?” You asked, sitting up and taking a watery bite of the ice cream. “Why wasn’t I enough? He said ‘girls,’ which means there’s probably more than the two I know about. How long has he been doing this? Our whole relationship?”

“When he called me to come over here and get his stuff for him, I asked. I’m not sure if he was telling me the truth, but he said it’s only been the last year.” Errol snorted derisively. “Only.”

“How many girls?” You asked.

He shook his head. “He wouldn’t tell me. He kept trying to get me to side with him, but…” Errol rolled his eyes. “I’m not buying anything he says right now.”

“Did he do this to his other girlfriends?”

“Well, you were his first serious girlfriend,” Errol said. “Before you, he only dated casually, so it was never a problem. When he said he really loved you, I thought he meant it.”

“Yeah.” Your lip quivered and you stabbed the spoon into your float. “Me too.”

Errol reached out and pulled you into a tight hug, which you sank into and let loose again, soaking his shirt in tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Errol whispered into your hair.

At some point, Errol put you to bed. You were exhausted and drunk and just wanted to sleep, so he lay you down and left you to it.

When the morning came, you felt like your head had been run over with a truck. You decided to get some coffee going before taking a shower, but to your surprise, Errol was still there. He was in the kitchen on the phone, his hair out of it’s usual braid and tumbling down his shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Errol said. You immediately realized he was talking to his brother. “No, I’m not picking up your shit. I don’t care if she burns it all.” He was silent for a moment, and you could hear Eric speaking. “No… No, you’re full of shit. Do you know what a good thing you had? Do you have any idea what I would give to have what you just shit on? …fuck no, I’m not going to talk her into taking you back, are you insane?! Get over yourself… No… No, it’s not happening, you can go fuck yourself right now… Look, I don’t have time for your bullshit right now.”

Errol hung up and turned, startled to realize you were standing there. “Oh, hey,” He said. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” You replied honestly. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Yeah, you were in bad shape last night and I didn’t want to leave you alone. I slept on the couch, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” You said. “I was just going to make coffee.”

“Oh, I already made some,” He said, going to the coffee pot and pouring you a mugful. “I figured you could use it. I’ve got breakfast coming too, something greasy to absorb all that alcohol.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” You said, sipping the coffee. It was really good, but not your normal brand, though it tasted very familiar. Actually, now that you thought about it, you always drank the gross coffee Eric liked. This was a nice change. “I’m going to take a shower and wash last night off of me. Are you okay here?”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time,” He said, turning to pull down plates and prepare for breakfast.

You were about to turn to the bathroom but stopped. “Errol.”

He looked back up at you. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for… thanks.”

He smiled at you. “It’s no problem at all.”

You took your shower with your head pressed against the tile. Why couldn’t you just forget? Why couldn’t you put all of it out of your mind and stop thinking about it? What would it take to make the pain stop?

The water was cold by the time you got out, and when you went back into the kitchen, the food had arrived and Errol had everything set out on the table. He looked up anxiously when you came in.

“You okay?” He said, concerned. “You were in there for a worryingly long time. I was thinking about going in there if you hadn’t come out in five minutes.”

“I’m fine. Well, not fine, but you know.”

“Yeah,” He said sympathetically. “Try to eat. All you had last night were two bites of ice cream and a lot of alcohol.”

You picked up your fork and speared a sausage. “I must look horrible.”

“Nope, not possible,” He said, tucking into his own plate of food. “A person can look tired and cute at the same time, you know.”

You snorted, prodding your puffy face gently. “You’re too nice. Maybe I should have dated you instead.”

He laughed. “You know, it’s actually kinda funny, I was going to ask you out back in college before you started dating Eric.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, he kind of sniped you, if I’m being honest.”

“I never knew that,” You said. “Did he know you wanted to ask me out?”

“Oh, yeah, I told him,” He said, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “I told him there was a girl at my college who always went to this one coffee shop near campus, and I told him I was going buy you your favorite coffee and cookies as an icebreaker.”

Your head rocked back. “That’s exactly what he did when he asked me out.”

Errol tsked sardonically. “Yeah. I know.”

You scoffed. “Wow, what an absolute asshole.”

Errol shrugged and smiled. “Ancient history now. Do you want some more coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks,” You said as he filled your cup. “This is really good, what is it?”

“Orange and almond mocha.”

You cocked your head. “Wait… isn’t that the blend I drank at the coffee shop? It used to be my favorite.”

“I know,” He said. “I ordered some. I thought it might be a nice pick-me-up. The shit that Eric drinks is revolting.”

“That’s definitely true,” You said, looking at Errol closely. “You remembered what my favorite coffee blend was from five years ago?”

Errol looked up at you. His face seemed carefully blank.

“Yeah, but I mean, it’s no big deal.” He wiped his mouth and sat back. “I should get going, I have work in a few hours. Are you going to be okay here on your own?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think I’m going to take some personal days.”

Errol nodded.”That’s a good idea. I’ll call later to check on you, okay? If you need anything, just text me.”

“Okay,” You said, feeling a little off-balance.

Errol smiled and let himself out, and you were left standing there, staring after him as an overwhelming sense of realization hit you like a freight train.

…did I date the wrong brother all this time?

Later in the day, Eric called. You almost weren’t going to pick up, but you decided to see what he had to say for himself now that the heat of the moment had passed.

“What do you want?” You said brusquely.

“Why did my brother spend the night at your house last night?” Eric said immediately.

“...excuse me?” You replied, incredulous.

“You heard me. What the fuck was he doing there?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“What do you mean, it’s not my business? He’s my brother and you’re my fiance!”

“Ex-fiance,” You corrected him. “First of all, you are the one who told him to come over in the first place. Secondly, I was not obviously doing well last night and he stayed to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid or die in my sleep of alcohol poisoning. And third, and I cannot stress this enough, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Don’t bullshit me, you know he’s in love with you.”

Your head snapped back in agitation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, you really don’t know? Ms. Perfect doesn’t know that my asshole brother has had a crush on you for years?”

“You’re full of shit, Eric,” You retorted. “Don’t drag Errol into this.”

“Did you just decide to fuck my brother to get back at me, is that it?”

“Fuck you, Eric!” You hung up the phone and hit the floor, a wave of anguish washing you again. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he have to make everything worse?

The phone rang again, and it was Eric. You decided to block him and be done with it. You got a notification from Facebook, and then Twitter, and then Instagram, all from Eric. Every new notification made your anxiety rise higher and higher until you were balled up on the floor, sobbing again. In desperation, she dialed Errol’s number.

“Hello?”

“Please help,” She begged, weeping. “He won’t leave me alone. He keeps messaging me and calling me. I can’t… I can’t do it…”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” Errol said. He sounded angry.

“Can you come over? Please?”

“Of course, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. I’m going to turn off my phone.”

“That’s a good idea,” He said. “If I need to, I can message you on your gaming console.”

“Okay,” You said. “Bye.”

He hung up with you and you turned your phone off, sitting on the floor of your kitchen in the blissful silence, unable to get up.

Was that true? Could it be possible that Errol had been in love with you the whole time you’d been dating Eric? He said he’d wanted to ask you out. He remembered tiny details, like what your favorite coffee had been. He made you your favorite dessert when you were miserable without even having to ask what it was. He stayed overnight to make sure you didn’t get hurt or hurt yourself. He bought breakfast and defended you. He didn’t have to do any of that. He was just your fiance’s brother. Ex-fiance.

He arrived shortly after you called him. As soon as he entered the house, before he had a chance to say anything, you reached up, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. For a second or two, there was no reaction, but then he leaned into the kiss, deepening it, savoring it, before abruptly putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you back, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“...why did you do that?” He asked you, his face grim.

“Eric told me,” You said. “He said you’ve been in love with me the entire time I was dating him. Is that true?”

Errol looked down and away. “Look--”

“You told Eric on the phone that you’d have given anything to have what he had. You meant me, right?”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Errol, look at me!” You shouted.

It seemed to take a lot of will, but Errol’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours. They were pleading with you.

“Do you love me?”

His face scrunched as if he were in pain and he swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t…

“Don’t…lie to me,” You said in a tense whisper, tears spilling from your eyes. “Do you?”

Tears began to gather in his own eyes. His response was barely audible.

“…yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since I first saw you in the coffee shop.”

You tried to press forward to kiss him again, but he held you firm, sniffing. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“But I don’t want to be used to get revenge on my brother,” He whispered back, his voice strangled and uneven. “It’s not good for you and it’s not fair to me. You know that.”

Your face crumpled. He was right.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, unable to look at him anymore. “I just don’t want to think about him anymore. I don’t want him in my head.”

Finally, Errol pulled you into a hug.

“I know,” He said. His body was tense, as if he were restraining himself. “We can revisit this later. Much later.”

“When?” You asked piteously.

“Not now. Not soon. You need time to heal and I… need to think.”

“I’m sorry, Errol,” You cried into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never saw it.”

He laughed slightly. “It’s not your fault. I got really good at hiding it. And Eric always kept you at arms length from me. I think he was afraid I’d steal you away or something.”

He let you go and you stepped away, looking at the ground in shame.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was using you,” You said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He put his hand under his chin and made you look up at him, his thumb stroking your cheek. “For what it’s worth, I’m relieved the secret is out now. Tiptoeing around you and Eric was exhausting. The engagement was my worst nightmare, because it meant I’d have to just suffer in silence forever.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s over for both our sakes, then,” You said, attempting to smile.

He smiled too, but it was very soft. Gentle. “I don’t… think it’s a good idea for us to hang out together much from now on, at least for a while,” He said, letting go. “But… we can text. We can call. If you need anything, I’m always here for you. That’s always been true.”

You nodded. “I know.” You sighed and took another step back. “I’m going to miss you.”

His smile widened sadly. “I’m not far, but… I know what you mean.”

With the both of you in tears, he turned, opened the door, and was gone. Thirty seconds after he left, however, you got a text.

>Are you okay?

You smiled through your tears, feeling glad and grateful that he was still communicating with you. >No. But I think I will be.

>Good.

>Are you okay? You asked in return.

>Honestly, I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. This was a lot at once.

>Yeah, no kidding. I think I may see a therapist to help me out.

>That’s a really good idea. Maybe I should too.

>I think everyone should at least once.

>Yeah. Do you need anything?

>No, I’m okay. Thank you for everything, Errol.

>It’s my pleasure.

Some time passed. You and Errol talked and texted every single day. Neither of you brought up dating each other and carefully avoided affectionate language. He wanted you to heal and you wanted to give him a fair chance without the cloud of his brother hanging over you.

Talking to him was effortless, like talking to yourself. You each had your own tastes and dislikes, but you both loved a lot of the same things and had similar desires. You both loved your jobs, enjoyed the same music, gushed over books you’d read, and liked playing board games. One of your favorite things to do was watch movies remotely over Zoom. It was almost like being on a date, even if you couldn’t be together.

As hard as you tried not to, you compared everything Errol did to Eric. Even still, it was obvious that Errol had always been better suited to you than Eric ever was. It was abundantly clear that you had indeed been dating the wrong brother the entire time.

On what was supposed to be your anniversary with Eric, Errol sent you a link to play a horror game with him. Errol hated anything horror, so instead of spending the day crying and drinking and cursing Eric for being alive, you got to laugh the whole day at how loud Errol screamed when he was startled. It ended up being a wonderful day.

You did see a therapist, as did Errol, and the two of you would talk about your sessions with each other, sharing the advice the counselors had given you. He also sent you gifts through delivery, like the coffee you loved and your favorite treats. Whenever you’d had a bad day or had to deal with Eric due to post-breakup business, a treat would arrive the next day, and it always put a smile on your face.

You were worried that all the time apart might change how Errol felt, but he never wavered. You woke up every day to a text saying good morning, and went to bed after talking to him for at least an hour about your day. After a month, you realized that a day or two would go by when you wouldn’t think of Eric at all. You hadn’t thought that would be possible when you first broke up with Eric, and he did still haunt your thoughts most of the time, but the respite from the emotional distress of thinking of him, even for a short time, was wonderful.

Three months after the breakup and his confession, you, Errol, and your therapists all decided that you were ready to date again. That same day, Errol showed up on your doorstep with flowers. The sight of him was like breathing fresh air after being underwater.

“Hi,” He said, smiling brightly.

“Hi,” You replied, stepping forward to pull him into a hug. He reciprocated without hesitation.

“So…” He said, not letting go. “Do you want to go out with me tonight?”

“Yes,” You said, cuddling him closer.

He pulled back and kissed you for a very long time, tasting your lips and teasing his tongue just inside your mouth. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and just looked at your face, touching your cheeks with his fingertips. Eventually he stepped back.

“Let’s go.”

Dating him was amazing. He knew everything there was to know about you, so he took you to places you loved, to all your favorite restaurants, to concerts he knew you’d enjoy. It was like you’d been dating for years already, even though it was just a few weeks. You made out like teenagers, hot and heavy, but he was careful about being intimate too quickly, though, still fearful about being a rebound. You respected that.

You were already talking about the future, though. You both wanted to get married eventually and to be parents before you turned thirty. Before breaking up, you had been talking about having kids with Eric, which was something he had expressed interest in during the start of your relationship, but recently he had been making excuses, like he didn’t have enough in savings or he didn’t feel ready. You guessed you knew why now.

You were worried that his family would be angry with you for ending your relationship with Eric and dating Errol, but they seemed completely understanding. It was likely they were also aware that Errol had been in love with you forever, and the fact that Eric cheated on you wasn’t something they were proud of. You were still warmly invited to all the family gatherings with Errol, and while having Eric there was a little awkward, his seething anger at seeing you happy with Errol was the best revenge you could have asked for.

“They let everyone in the office have the day off. Do you want to hang out today?” You asked Errol one night after about a month and a half of dating.

“Ordinarily I’d love to, but I’m feeling kinda weird today. Squishy. I think I’m going to have my period soon.”

He wasn’t being hyperbolic; nagas with male sex organs both created the eggs and fertilized them, but they didn’t have a womb or cavity in their bodies where the eggs could incubate, which is why they needed people with uteruses to propagate the species. It took a month for the eggs to develop inside them, but after that, they could implant them into another person’s body at any time they chose. However, after a year, the eggs died naturally and were expelled from their bodies, therefore, male nagas experienced periods once a year. Eric usually went to a specialized facility where the eggs would be humanely disposed of.

“Are you sure? Isn’t it rather soon for that.”

“I went into heat last week. The eggs usually die quickly after that.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” You said. “Why did you go into heat? That typically only happens when nagas in a sexual relationship with someone, right?”

“That, and if you’re experiencing extreme sexual needs that aren’t being met.”

“Oh. Ohhh…” You hissed in a breath. “Is it because of me?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” He reassured you. “It’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.”

You were silent for a moment of deep contemplation. He seemed to sense you were thinking about something.

“What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Do you think the eggs are still viable?”

It was his turn to be silent. “Um… maybe. Probably. I think it’ll be another week before I need to go in to evacuate them. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking…” You said slowly. “We both said we wanted kids. And I know we’re just starting out, and this is super sudden, and it probably doesn’t even make sense to do this now, and we haven’t even had sex yet, but… oh, god, I’m rambling…” You sighed heavily. “If you’d like, we can wait until next year when we’ve been together for longer, but… it just seems like this is a good opportunity. It… feels right, you know what I mean? If that’s what you want.”

He took another moment of silence to think really hard about what you were saying. “Are you sure about this, honey?” He asked you finally.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” You said resolutely. “I love you, and I’m in a good place, both emotionally and financially. I’m ready to be a mom. I have been for years.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt anxiously. “Is this something you want? I mean… I totally understand if it isn’t. If you want to wait, that’s fine with me. I just… I want to do this.”

His voice turned sultry. “You really want my eggs?”

You grinned and bit your lip. You’d learned through hints in conversations you had with him that he had a little bit of a breeding and pregnancy kink.

“Yeah. But we should act fast if we want them to take.”

“I’ll be right over,” He said, and the phone clicked.

You immediately went into the bathroom to get ready, feeling nervous. There was a weight of expectation on you, not just because you were talking about getting pregnant, but also because of how long Errol had wanted to be with you. You were scared that you wouldn’t live up to his expectation.

He arrived shortly after, looking excited and nervous. You pulled him into your arms and kissed him. He was shaking.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah,” He said, touching your face reverently. “I’ve just… I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. I can’t believe it’s actually happening.”

You smiled softly at him. “Come on.” You took him by the hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. He took a deep, shaky breath and followed.

Once in the room, he pulled you in and kissed you again, deeper this time, more probing, his body pressed flush against yours.

“I’m not sure how to… begin…” He said. “I don’t know what you like and don’t like yet.”

“We can learn as we go,” You said. “We don’t have to rush.”

“Well, what do you like? Do you have any kinks I should know about?”

You laughed. “I have a few, I guess.”

“Tell me about one,” He said.

Instead of telling, you knelt down and sat on your knees with your butt resting on your feet, perched forward on your hands, and looked up at him through your lashes.

“What would you like me to do for you?” You asked, biting your lip.

His eyebrows rose and a startled smile spread across his face. “Oh,” He said. Slowly, he took off his long shirt, exposing his torso and the slit on his lower abdomen, usually closed and imperceptible from his scales, but now swollen and puckered slightly. He ran his fingers through your hair where you were crouched on the floor and came close, so that his slit was near your face.

“Touch it for me, sweetie,” He said.

Gently, you circled one finger around the slit, feeling it pulse under your touch. He exhaled sharply and his head fell back, his braid swinging. With your forefinger and middle finger, you stroked it up and down, watching it open slowly. You leaned forward and kissed it, and he spasmed, groaning.

Gradually, two dicks emerged from his slit, a long, thin one with a spear-like head, and a shorter, thick one with a bulbous head. You knew each had a different purpose. Normally, the thin one would be retracted so that nagas could just enjoy sex, but the thin one was an ovipositor. It’s what implanted the eggs. You knew not to touch it, since it secreted a numbing agent that made implanting the eggs easier.

“Now?” You asked.

“Not yet,” He said. “You’re not ready yet. Stand up.”

You obeyed, and he began to undress you. You started to help, but he said, “No, no, let me do it.”

You put your arms back down and let him peel your clothes off. And then he just looked at you.

“Stand still,” He said. “Stay quiet.”

You nodded, obeying.

“Good girl,” He whispered. “That’s my good girl.”

He started with your shoulders, letting his fingers run over your skin, down your arms, up your sides, caressing your breasts, down your belly, and reached one hand between your legs. You gasped.

“Shh,” He said. “Stay silent.”

It was a hard order to follow, as he touched your pearl and massaged it slowly, running a finger inside your slit as he did. Your breathing was uneven and you had to bite a finger, but you managed to be quiet.

“You can make all the noise you want soon,” He promised seductively. “I just want to test how good you can be for me.”

You nodded again, your body shivering at his touch.

He brought his face very close to yours, so that your lips were mere millimeters apart, but stopped short of actually kissing you. You could feel his cool breath on your neck and chest, and it made your heart race.

“You’re getting there,” He said, pushing a finger inside your entrance. You inhaled, but bit down on your cheek to stay silent.

“Good girl,” He said, pulling his finger out. "Lay face down on the bed and lift your ass up. Spread your legs open.”

You nodded again and followed his orders, doing exactly what he asked of you. He slithered up behind you and went back to touching between your legs with one hand, the other sliding up and down your spine. You felt him sink down and kiss your thighs.

“You can moan for me, darling,” He said.

You were happy to obey, and whimpered against your pillow as he licked a long stripe from behind, kneading your buttocks as he did. He moaned as he sucked on you, your legs shaking. He pressed his thumb into you as he sucked, and you thought you were going to cum. He stopped just before that happened, leaving you feeling desperate.

“Good,” He said. “You’re perfect.” He crawled over you from the back so that his face was next to yours and he kissed you. “Are you still sure about this? We can just have sex, I don’t have to breed you.”

“You want to, don’t you?”

“Don’t worry about what I want right now, are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes,” You simpered. “I want it. Give them to me. Please. I want them.”

He bit his lip, looked at you like you were something he wanted to eat, and grinned. “Good girl.” He went out of view then, and you felt his hands on your hips.

“Be still,” He said. “Let me in.”

You nodded, and felt the slim tube enter your body. The anesthetic began working immediately, so you only had a vague sensation of it pushing all the way in, penetrating your womb, and fixing itself there.

“Are you hurting, love?” He asked as he lay over you, putting his arm under your head so that you could lay on it and resting his body on top of you. Your hips were still in the air and your stomach wasn’t touching the bed.

“No, I’m okay,” You replied.

“Good,” He said, sounding a bit strained, his body tensing. His stuttering breath blew through your hair. “It’s starting.”

He grunted, but you couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or pain. His breathing was sharp and punctuated as the egg moved down through the ovipositor and into you. You could feel a small swell in your stomach, but it wasn’t painful. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder and relaxed and shuddered, gasping.

“Did it hurt?” You asked.

“Not exactly,” He replied a little breathlessly. “It feels good, but it’s also a bit of work to push it out. Sorry this isn’t as sexy as you might have hoped.”

“Who said it wasn’t?” You replied, nuzzling him. “It’s like a special kind of foreplay. Besides, I’m really enjoying all the sounds that are coming out of you.”

“I can feel that,” He said, laughing. “You keep squeezing me.” He tensed again and started grunting, hugging you tightly.

“You’re doing great,” You told him.

“This is… harder than I thought it would be,” He said stiltedly. You could feel the sweat from his brow dripping on your skin.

“You can do it,” You said, kissing his arm as it gripped you and biting his thumb. “How many do you think there are?”

“I think three,” He said. He exhaled forcefully, and you felt another swell slip into you as he panted.

“One more, honey,” You said. “Deep breaths.”

He snickered, and then groaned. “Okay…” He said. He gripped you hard as the last one came and passed through. You were beginning to feel a full sensation in your belly and felt glad this was the last one.

Once it was out, the ovipositor retracted and he flopped onto the bed, gasping like a fish.

“Whoa,” He said. “Laying them in a person is way different than disposing of them.”

“How so?” You asked, moving to lie on your side so that you could touch him. He was clammy and cold.

“That felt great,” He said, looking over at you and smiling. “Like, it hurt a bit, but it felt like a small orgasm every time.”

“Probably a biological incentive to procreate,” You said, kissing his chest and neck.

He snorted. “Probably.” He looked at you with his eyes half lidded. “It’s going to be a few minutes until you get the feeling back down there. Why don’t you spend some time and play with me?”

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“Do you want me to punish you?” He asked.

“Maybe I’ll like it,” You said with a smirk.

He took you by the chin and made you look down at the second, larger cock, which was still erect and bobbing. “Touch me.”

You went down and sat astride his tail so that he could watch you take his cock in your hand, and begin to slowly pump it up and down.

“Hmm, that’s good,” He said with a satisfied sigh. “Let me know when your feeling comes back. We don’t want to waste time.”

“I will,” You said, stroking him. Your stomach felt tight, so you rubbed it as you touched him, drawing his eye. He watched you hungrily.

“I can’t believe you did that,” He said, smiling at you.

“We’re only half-way there,” You told him. “Don’t get too excited.”

He bucked his tail and nearly knocked you over onto the bed, making you shriek and laugh.

After a few minutes of teasing and touching and good-natured laughter, the feeling began to return. You started rocking on his tail to be sure, and realized that you were extremely sensitive.

“It’s back?” He asked

You nodded, pleasuring yourself against his body.

“Good. Lay down.”

You obeyed, and he moved to lay on top of you, his tail between your legs and his slit lining up with yours, kissing you deeply and rolling your nipples in his fingers. He pushed himself inside you as he kissed you, careful not to go too deep, as the ovipositor had made you a little sore. You rolled your body against his in time with his thrusts. You were so sensitive that you could already feel the crest of ecstasy beginning to wash over you.

“I love you so much,” He whispered against your skin. “I’m so happy.”

“I love you,” You replied, your hands in his hair as he moved inside you with purpose, precision. “I’m close. I’m so close.”

He stopped immediately, and you groaned shrilly, the sensation of denial sending a shiver up your back.

“Not yet,” He said, biting your lower lip. “Not until I say. Be a good girl.”

You nodded, panting and trembling, but your body was betraying you, writhing desperately against him, trying to regain the friction.

“Be still,” He said. “I’m not going to move again until you be still.”

You squealed in need, but you did your best to make your body stop clutching at him. It took a minute, but you managed to settle down.

“Good,” He said, slowly moving inside you again. “Good girl.”

“Cum inside me,” You begged. “Please.”

“I will,” He said, kissing you. “When I want to. Be patient and I’ll reward you.”

Your body was wound so tightly that you thought you were going to explode, practically vibrating underneath him. The sight of it made him grin.

“You’re so beautiful,” He said, licking your earlobe, still keeping the maddeningly slow pace. “Do you want it that bad?”

“Yes!” You groaned. “Yes, please. Errol, please.”

He thrust sharply, but not hard, and you nearly came undone. You cried out, about to snap like a string.

“Are you always going to be a good girl for me?” He whispered sinfully.

“Yes!”

“Do you promise me?”

“Yes!”

“Say it. Say ‘I promise.’”

“I promise, I promise, please!”

His thrusts became targeted again. “Beg me some more.”

“Errol, please! Please let me cum, please!” You cried. Every muscle, every nerve in your body was screaming for release.

“You can cum when I tell you to,” He said, though his movements were extremely efficient now. He was very good at drawing this out.

“I can’t take it, please!” You begged.

“One more time, say you love me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

From there, he wasted no time, slamming himself into you with speed. In no time at all, you were a screaming, shaking mess underneath him, thanking him over and over. The tension in his body and the sudden shout and moaning from him told you that he had reached his peak too.

“Not yet,” He gasped, rearing up. “I’m not done yet.”

He had leaned up so that he could look down at you and put his hand on your stomach, feeling the new hardness there. He kept going, pistoning against your body, snapping his hips against you, and rode the wave for a second time, all focus and concentration.

The both of you came one final time before he collapsed on the bed beside you, sucking in air as hard as you were. For a few minutes, all you could do was breathe.

After some time, he left the bed and went into the bathroom, and you heard the water in the tub running. You were barely conscious when he came back and lifted you out of the bed, taking you into the bathroom, and lay you down in the warm water of the bath. You were so tired and boneless that you could hardly raise your head, so he carefully, lovingly washed your body, paying special attention to your belly.

“Are you alive?” He asked after some time of sitting next to the tub, watching you drift in and out.

“I think so,” You replied, opening your eyes to smile sleepily at him. “Do you think they took?”

“We won’t know for a while. You should take it easy until then.” He smoothed the hair away from your face and stroked your cheek. “You’re going to have my babies,” He said, laughing a little.

“I hope so,” You said, taking his hand and kissing the palm.

“Eric is going to be pissed,” Errol said, snickering.

You snorted. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about him once today. This isn’t about him.”

Errol kissed you. “You’re right. It isn’t. It’s about us.” He lay his hand on your stomach and smiled gently. “All of us.”

Only one of the eggs took, but that was okay. Errol’s parents were overjoyed to learn they’d be getting a grandchild. Both you and Errol decided Eric could learn it on Facebook, like all the other strangers and acquaintances in your lives.

You took maternity leave so that you could pass your gestational time in relative peace. Errol fussed over you, making sure you ate properly and went with you to all your appointments. You made the decision to lay the egg at home instead of the hospital, and Errol’s sister acted as the midwife. It was the toughest work you’d ever done, and Errol was the best cheerleader you could have asked for.

Errol took paternity leave, like you had done, since he couldn’t leave the egg, anyway. He incubated the egg for the rest of the gestation period, curled up around it day and night. Errol’s son, Ewan, was born six months after being conceived, and within another year, you and Errol were married.

You often wondered if things had been different, if you had dated Errol from the beginning instead of Eric, if you’d be as overjoyed as you were at the moment. But then you figured that wondering about what ifs was a waste of time. You had a happy family to look after now, after all, and another clutch on the way. There was no time to worry about the past. The future was right in front of you.

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XIV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, thoughts of self-harm and suicide, depression, some triggers might not be fully tagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: It’s the final day of the tournament and all are holding their breath to see who prevails.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The arena was buoyant on the final day of the tournament. The most awaited event, the joust, was finally come. As Lord Barnes would once more be among the competitors, you were left on your own in the box with the rest of the ladies and their queen. Most of the noblemen were listed for the sport, Barnes, Rogers, Stark, and even the king.

You didn’t watch as the names were announced and the banners presented before the games commenced. Your attention wasn’t even drawn as the first clashed with their blunted staffs and galloping horses. It was much more perilous than the other contests.

You stayed away from the other women. You were not interested in humouring the queen’s false kindness nor were you interested in their chatter of things that hardly mattered to you. Sewing, birthing, loving; you didn’t care for any of it. You didn’t care for them or the men on the field. You cared for nothing in this bleak world.

As Barnes took to the saddle for his first opponent, you glanced down lazily but found your eyes drawn to clouds instead. It was bitterly cold under the grey sky, streaked with umbrous and ominous wisps. It would likely snow soon as if to mark the grand finale.

You tucked your hands into your sleeves and hugged yourself alone on the bench. You were drawn from your glowering by the rustle of skirts. The queen sat beside you and let out an airy sigh.

“Thankfully, my brother has kept clear of conflict,” she said, “in fact, he’s hardly spared another snarl for the visiting Baron.”

“Your majesty,” you muttered as the flag was waved and the horses barrelled at each other and the men pointed their long poles.

“Unless you count this,” she mused as his pole broke off the armour of the other men and sent his adversary sprawling and the other horse whinnying in a panic. You lowered your eyes meekly. “He will be eager to be away and I do hope you aid him in a speedy departure. The baron is expected to remain in the capital for the winter.”

“Yes, he is want to be gone back to the castle,” you assured her.

“It would be tragic if you were to be snowed in here. Very inconvenient and costly at that.”

“Certainly, your majesty,” you said flatly.

“You understand the urgency that will follow in the coming days,” she intoned.

“I understand but you do seem to misunderstand your brother. To think that I have any hold over him is farcical. He does as he pleases. He is a duke, I am a displaced chambermaid. That is all it is… your majesty.”

“You do not speak as a chambermaid,” she replied sharply, “my brother favours you but he still cannot overrule me, understood?”

“Your majesty, I understand my place completely,” you ceded, “would I be remiss to excuse myself?”

“For what means?”

“To find a commode,” you answered, “these game do carry on and I am distracted by my humanly needs.”

“Go off then,” she stood, “you are rather dour today. You would cast a mood over us all if you languish thus.”

“Your majesty,” you rose and made your way to the doors as she rejoined her ladies and gave a forced giggle as they welcomed her. You wondered how the nobles were trained so well in lies. Was it in their books or did their tutors include it in their curricula?

You descended the stairs without aim. You had no need of the commode, only an excuse. You stepped out into the lower stands and peered out at the field. In that moment, you could be gone. You could disappear and be away from all this misery.

You scoffed at yourself and leaned against the wooden planks. He’d find you again. You couldn’t make it far enough before he sniffed you out again. You weren’t stupid enough to try it twice, even at such an opportune moment. You would only earn yourself further punishment.

“Is something amusing, my lady?” you stood straight and looked startled to the man who emerged from the shadows of the stairway. Lord Zemo smirked and came to stand arm to arm with you as he looked out across the stadium.

“My lord, I was only watching the field,” you lied, “thinking.”

“Ah, yes, these games, how violent,” he remarked, “where I am from, we have festivals before tournaments. Singing, dancing, poetry, theatre… I suppose that is just as silly as all this.”

“It is… a privilege to be able to afford silliness,” you said, “to not be the one cleaning up after all of it and yet… so very pointless.”

He nodded and grumbled as he considered your words, “very true. Wise, even. I think that after one has seen how grave things can be, these affairs become less and less entertaining. It is almost sickening to think of them, let alone attend them. Why should men play at war as if it were fun?”

You peeked over at him. He was here because he once fought those men down on the field with real steel and armour. It was rather grim to think of. “I did not think of it like that but I suppose you are right. I know little of war, however, my lord.”

“You know of pain, though,” he said, “it is painted on you as much as those battle scars carried by veterans like your beloved Barnes.”

You were silent. You stared up at the sky again, the endless grey, the half-finished canvas.

“Beloved? Perhaps that is the wrong word for him. I see little affection there. I sense it is not an arrangement you asked for.”

“Does it matter if it is?” you shook your head, “My lord, you waste your breath on little more than a servant. I suffer Lord Barnes the same as any, I am no help to you.”

“Help? I have no desire to change my standing with Barnes, I am not so foolish as that,” he turned to face you, “Have none ever taken interest in you as your own being?”

“I am a servant. I am not my own being,” you murmured, “my lord, if you would, I should return to my party.”

“As you will,” he said dolefully, “it was a pleasure to meet again.”

“Was it?” you asked as you turned to go.

“It is always a relief to speak of anything but politics or gold,” he said, “and yes, you served me well in this conversation. As you said, that is all you are worth.”

You left him but didn’t ascend back to the box. You continued down the steps until you reached the final landing. You looked up and sat on the lowest stair. A moment of peace before you had to go back. To not think for a single second.

🏰

You listened to the raucous voices of the audience. You didn’t want to move from that spot. You didn’t want to go back to it all. You just wanted to stay on that step forever. But you knew you had to go. You knew you had to get up.

You lifted yourself wearily but your foot only hovered above the bottom stair. You heard more voices, and an angry one as the crowd bang and buzzed. You followed the lower sounds, the singular conversations yelled through the din. You ventured down the tunnel that led beneath the stands.

Horse kicked and snorted as you came into the area meant for competitors. Men sat and stood with blood on brow and lip. Those who’d already lost, many as the final face-off was about to commence. You looked around but did not see Lord Barnes. Perhaps he was on the other side or even looking for you.

You walked the perimeter of the large space and a familiar face caught your eye. Peter rubbed his shoulder as he muttered, his aunt and uncle sat with him as the former checked the cut on his chin. You felt the same stabbing in your chest as the night before. Before you could think, you were marching towards him.

You skidded to a halt before him and gulped. You didn’t know what to say, you only knew how you felt. He looked over at you as May and Benjamin followed his gaze. You wavered and blinked away the tears that threatened.

“I did want to be friends but I stayed away to protect you, Peter,” you said, “did you have to be so cruel?”

“What? I--” he stood and winced as he jarred his shoulder, “I didn’t-- I wasn’t--”

“I know what I am and I know we cannot be friends but could it have hurt to let me think ‘what if’?” You quivered.

“No, my lady, I--”

“You know I’m not a lady. No need to treat me like one now. I heard you last night. I didn’t come to change your mind, I’m not so simple as that. I only came-- well, I don’t know why, but perhaps I only wanted to say to one person how they hurt me. Perhaps I wanted to just once be able to speak my part and that I can do because I know I will never see you again.”

You brushed past him and he reached for your arm as he stammered, “please, don’t, I was l--”

“Don’t,” you shrugged him off and stomped on as the figures around you blurred and the anger and despair swelled in your head.

You followed the noise of the crowd. They were hungry for blood. If that was what they wanted, they would have it. 

You pushed out from behind the curtain and the wood and dirt vibrated from the cacophony. You saw Lord Barnes in his saddle as he was handed his pole and his competitor, Lord Rogers, as he took his own. Their attendants checked the horse and took them to their marks.

You quaked as the ocean of voice rolled over you and you crept out along the wall. All were entranced by the two dukes as they readied for their signal. Barnes silver armour was dented and dinged from his former bouts and Rogers golden armour was just as scuffed. The two men steadied their steeds and the crowd fell into a hush of anticipation.

The red cloth dropped and the riders galloped at each other across the field. The hooves dusted up the cold dirt, through blood stains left throughout the day, and the crash that came sent up another cheer through the crowd. 

Wooden slivers exploded around Barnes and Rogers was pushed back against his horse as his own shield was deflected. Both men kept astride and righted themselves as they rode back to their posts and again, their liveried attendants approached to calm their horses and fix their dressings.

They would go again and again, until one of them was tossed from their saddle or worse. You began to breathe heavily as you paced along the wall and the lords were handed new shields. You readied and watched the man in gray lift the rag. You began to run before it was even visible to the crowd.

You heard the horses barreling at each other as you did the same. You closed your eyes as you got closer to the lanes and you tossed back your arms as you threw yourself forward. A heavy and hard force hit you and several crushing blows landed across your body as the horse trampled over you and overturned.

You croaked as you were left in the dirt. The eerie silence that followed was void of the bouncing excitement. It was broken only by the screaming of the injured horse and the confused voices of those on the field. You heard that familiar deep groan, of pain, not delight this time.

You rasped and gasped as your chest ached and your bones throbbed. Your limbs were filled with sand and your head pounding. There were shadows all around you as you wheezed and you smiled as you tasted blood on your tongue. You began to laugh as your eyelids drooped and blacked out the arena.

“Don’t move her!” A voice called as someone touched your arm. It was broken, you were sure of it. It didn’t matter, they couldn’t fix you. Not your arm, none of it.

You laughed louder and louder as you heard more footsteps. It was all so funny. You were free! Your eyes rolled back and your mind flickered. Just before the flame gave its last lick, you heard his voice. The gravity of it gave you peace.

“Is she alive? Is she alive!? Help her! Help her!”

Lord Barnes could demand as he did for all he had but in this, he could not be mollified.