#the grip that the tales series has on my heart...love it <3

[dee-writes-smut]

SUMMER

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)

AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3

Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.

As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.

In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.

Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.

In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.

(Mid Summer, Velaris)

The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”

I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”

The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.

“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”

I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.

Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.

The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”

Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”

I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.

“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.

The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.

“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”

We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.

As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.

(Mid Summer, The River House)

That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.

As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.

Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.

Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.

As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”

Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.

“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.

As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.

As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.

Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.

“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.

The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.

As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.

Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.

I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.

“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.

The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.

As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.

He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.

(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)

The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.

The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.

“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.

Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”

Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.

“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”

Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.

Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.

I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”

Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”

Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”

Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”

Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”

We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.

As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.

Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.

Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.

And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.

As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.

And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.

The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.

In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.

The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.

Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.

"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.

But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.

Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.

“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.

The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.

"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”

"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.

Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.

The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.

I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.

Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."

His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.

Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.

As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.

(Late Summer, Cassian)

The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.

But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.

Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.

Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.

As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.

He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.

Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.

As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.

“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.

He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.

At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.

I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.

And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.

In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.

"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.

Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.

His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.

With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.

And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.

Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.

[PREVIOUS]

[nachitoesmuybonito]

10 films I love

Tagged by @chocopinda <3

I'm gonna do my best! Because, here's a secret: I watch a lot of stuff, but half the time it ends up being background noise because my attention span is often shit when watching things alone; with some exceptions, of course. Blame that gamer brain!

The Ritual (2017) I’ve watched this several times on my own and once or twice with friends. I really, really like it! It’s a short horror film that does something I really enjoy: saves the creature for the very end. So, throughout the film you get a lot of strange and creepy moments, but you’re kept on edge wondering exactly what the cause is. So good. Definitely recommend it.

The Green Mile (1999) I read the book for this and, while often movies don’t live up to the book, this was still an amazing film adaptation. It focuses on a group of prison guards and the day to day life of working on death row, though the heart of the tale truly revolves around a new prisoner with a very special, and quite mysterious gift. I don’t want to spoil anything, but it’s a really powerful story

In The Tall Grass (2019) It’s strange, it’s a little creepy and it can be really confusing on the first watch. I’ve watched it twice so far and I’ve picked up on things I missed from the first viewing. It’s another of those movies that really keeps you guessing all throughout, and the twists along the way alone make for an interesting experience!

Dreamcatcher (2003) You might be seeing a bit of a pattern, huh? I like Stephen King stuff, haha. In this case, the book was definitely better (just my opinion), but I still enjoyed the movie! With this one you get some humor (and dark humor), horror, body horror and aliens. I’m a fan of the weird, and if you are too it might be one worth checking out.

It (2017) I hate clowns and this right here is one of the biggest reasons why. I remember seeing the original, so of course I jumped on this as soon as it came out and, wow. You see the killer clown in this version a whole lot more. This will give you a full dose of horror, and a whole lot of blood, but following the lives of the teenagers deemed outcasts is some pretty powerful stuff, too.

It Chapter 2 (2019) Another go around with the killer clown and the outcasts, except now the outcasts are all grown up. It’s kind of more of the same, horror and blood, and to me also highlights that things that terrified you as a kid sometimes remain with you as an adult.

The Mist (2007) Okay, this one had a short story, movie and a series (that only got one season, ugh). We’re obviously focusing on the movie for this. If you like weird creatures and government experiments gone wrong, give it a look! You get glimpses of the creatures or parts of them throughout the movie, but a lot of it is left to the imagination and I always find that fun. I will say, the story has a better ending; the movie ending killed me, so fair warning.

Dragonheart (1996) Going back a ways now! This is one of those films that I’ve adored for years. I’ve always liked dragons and knights and all that kind of stuff, so it was right up my alley. You get a pretty good mix of fun moments and serious moments, and a good adventure to follow. Just prepare yourself for a dose of sadness at the end; still powerful, and still gets me to this day.

Fractured (2019) This one popped up as a Netflix suggestion and the premise seemed good: a man brings his wife and daughter to the ER, but they seemingly disappear, and you’re left to follow him on his search as he believes the hospital is hiding something. Pretty early in I had a feeling I knew what was going on, but even when expecting the twist it was a good watch that kept me gripped!

The Labyrinth (1986) I don’t even know what to say here, haha. It’s just one of those movies I’ve always enjoyed, though I haven’t watched it in years. I mean, come on, it’s got David Bowie! And it’s really kind of weird, so I guess that’s just more reason I enjoy it.

And, there you go. There are others, for sure (@chocopinda hit on a few of my favorites with Donnie Darko and Fargo <3) but the list called for ten, so here we are. I also have no idea who to tag so, uh: @8choloko, @xtakeitisisx, @michaelmandog, @ignaciosalamanca

[maniuscript2]

Binge-Worthy K-Dramas: Explore the Trending Gems on Epic On!

Embark on an enthralling K-drama journey filled with romance, action, and unforgettable moments, courtesy of Epic On - The Best OTT Platform for Movies and TV Shows. This outstanding platform boasts a fantastic lineup of trending K-dramas that are not only captivating the hearts of viewers locally but also gaining global recognition. Let's delve deeper into the enchanting world of K-dramas available exclusively on Epic On - The Best OTT Platform for Movies, TV shows, and a lot more

1. "My Contracted Husband, Mr. Oh!" - A Rollercoaster of Emotions

Prepare yourself for a delightful rollercoaster of emotions as you follow the love story of Yoon Ha-ri and Oh Ji-hoon in "My Contracted Husband, Mr. Oh!" This romantic comedy, available on Epic On, is designed to keep you hooked from the very first episode. With a perfect blend of humor, romance, and a touch of drama, it's a must-watch for anyone seeking a feel-good K-drama experience that tugs at the heartstrings.

2. "The Three Musketeers" - A Historical Epic of Action and Camaraderie

Step back in time and immerse yourself in the adventures of three daring musketeers striving to protect the kingdom in "The Three Musketeers." This historical drama, packed with action, intrigue, and camaraderie, unfolds on Epic On, offering viewers a gripping narrative set against a rich historical backdrop. If you're a fan of epic tales with a blend of history and excitement, this K-drama is the perfect choice for your binge-watching escapades.

3. "Goblin: The Lonely and Great God" - A Fantasy Journey of Love and Friendship

Prepare to be enchanted by the mesmerizing tale of an immortal goblin and his quest to end his eternal life in "Goblin: The Lonely and Great God." This fantasy drama, available on Epic On, takes viewers on a heartwarming and epic journey of love and friendship. With visually stunning scenes and a captivating storyline, this K-drama has become a global sensation, and Epic On ensures you can immerse yourself in its magic at your convenience.

4. "Flower Of Evil" - A Thrilling Dive into Dark Secrets

Buckle up for a thrilling ride as a detective discovers dark secrets about her husband in "Flower Of Evil." This suspenseful and intense K-drama, featured on Epic On, keeps audiences on the edge of their seats with its unpredictable twists and turns. If you're a fan of suspense, mystery, and emotionally charged narratives, this drama is a definite binge-worthy addition to your watchlist.

Epic On doesn't just offer these incredible K-dramas; it ensures a seamless and high-quality streaming experience for viewers. With user-friendly navigation and a diverse selection of K-dramas catering to all tastes, Epic On has become the go-to destination for K-drama enthusiasts.

Whether you prefer to watch short clips online or binge-watching the entire series, Epic On has curated a collection of trending K-dramas that appeal to a broad audience. Don't miss out on these gems that are making waves in the world of entertainment. So, grab your popcorn, get cozy, and start your K-drama binge today on Epic On. These trending dramas are waiting for you to explore their mesmerizing stories and characters. It's time to get lost in the world of K-dramas, right here on Epic On - The Best OTT Platform for Movies!

[tranquiltroves]

It's Not Summer Without You: A Journey of Heartbreak, Love, and the Nostalgia of Growing Up

***SPOILER ALERT***

Introduction: Step into the world of love, friendship, and self-discovery as we delve into the captivating show "The Summer I Turned Pretty." As a devoted fan, I can't help but be torn between the Fisher boys—Conrad and Jeremiah—though I must confess, I'm secretly rooting for Jeremiah. This series holds a special place in my heart, not only for its enchanting storyline but also because it beautifully pays homage to the book series by Jenny Han, which was an important part of my adolescence. In this blog post, we'll relive the unforgettable first season, reflecting on the sheer heartbreak we all felt when Susannah passed and the fury that ignited when Aunt Julia put the beach house up for sale. Join me on this emotional rollercoaster, where nostalgia and love collide, in the world of "The Summer I Turned Pretty."

1. The Unforgettable First Season: "The Summer I Turned Pretty" begins with Belly, portrayed by the talented Lara Condor, as she spends her summers at Cousin's Beach with her family and longtime family friends—the Fisher brothers, Jeremiah and Conrad. Little did I know that their presence would leave me utterly torn between them, just like Belly. The first season unfolds against the backdrop of sun-kissed beaches and carefree days, capturing the essence of growing up, summer romances, and the complexities of relationships.

2. A Tale of Torn Hearts: As the story unravels, my heart sways between the brooding and enigmatic Conrad and the charming and magnetic Jeremiah. Their bond with Belly and their individual complexities make the love triangle even more heart-wrenching. Each glance, touch, and whispered word has me cheering for Jeremiah, even as I empathize with Belly's confusion.

3. The Heartbreak of Loss: The show doesn't shy away from the raw emotions of life. The passing of Susannah, the beloved Fisher brothers' mother, hit us all like a tidal wave of grief. The portrayal of loss and its impact on the characters made the show feel all the more genuine, drawing us closer to their world.

4. The Fury of Change: My heart shattered when Aunt Julia decided to put the beach house up for sale. The very foundation of the characters' summer haven was at risk, and I found myself feeling the fury that gripped them all. The beach house was more than just a location; it held memories of laughter, love, and growth—a place that became synonymous with the magic of summer.

5. Nostalgia of Jenny Han's Book Series: As a devoted reader of Jenny Han's book series, I couldn't help but feel a surge of nostalgia as the show brought the pages to life. "The Summer I Turned Pretty" book series was my cherished companion during my adolescence, and seeing the characters and their stories portrayed on screen was a heartwarming and emotional experience.

Conclusion: "The Summer I Turned Pretty" is more than just a show; it's an emotional journey that resonates deeply with many fans, including myself. As my heart remains torn between the Fisher boys, I find solace in the nostalgia that Jenny Han's book series holds for me. The heartbreak of losing Susannah and the fury over the potential loss of the beach house have left indelible imprints on my heart.

As we eagerly await the next chapter of Belly's journey, I can't help but cherish the memories of the summer that turned everything beautifully upside down. The magic of "The Summer I Turned Pretty" lies not just in its captivating storytelling, but in the way it captures the essence of growing up, love, and friendship—all of which mirror the nostalgia of my own coming-of-age experiences. -A

[kellysbookblog]

STOLEN EMPIRE TRILOGY BY EVA WINNERS

Genre/Tropes: Mafia / Coming of Age / Second chance / Secret Pregnancy / Forced Proximity / Triangle

CHECK OUT THESE CAPTIVATING COVERS!!

📚 Dive into the captivating world of the STOLEN EMPIRE trilogy by Eva Winners!

Preorder now and embark on an epic journey filled with intrigue, passion, and forbidden romance.

Follow the gripping story across three books:

Bitter Prince, releasing on August 17th

Unforgiving Queen, releasing on September 14th

Wrathful King, releasing on October 5th

Don't miss out on this addictive series that will leave you breathless until the very last page.

Preorder your copies today!

Add to your TBR

BOOK 1: BITTER PRINCE

Preorder today https://amzn.to/3XK3sRX

Add to your TBR https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/157716954-bitter-prince

Blurb

Once upon a time, a lion saved a girl. His little cinnamon girl.

That lion grew up into a prince. Dark, bitter, and so beautiful that it hurt to look at him.

But underneath it all, the girl saw the man. I saw his hunger for love and affection, and I had plenty to give.

I fell in love, even though he told me not to. I gave him everything, because that was who I was.

I was determined to show him the light in this world, and his smiles were what I lived for. He was my art, my melody, my muse. We were beautiful together.

So I gave and gave, all to my bitter prince. Until I had nothing left to give.

Until he left me empty.

No one warned me love would push me into darkness so cold, it’d tear me apart.

To survive, I’d have to kill the cinnamon girl and become someone else.

Someone I didn’t recognize.

BOOK 2: UNFORGIVING QUEEN

Preorder today https://amzn.to/3pIDRfs

Add to your TBR https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/157717026-unforgiving-queen

Burb

A harmless kiss led to a fairy tale. Or so I thought. But unlike the happily-ever-afters you read about, my tale didn’t end with a wedding gown and roses. My fairy tale turned into a heartbreak. Inked in pain and sealed in tears. It almost cost me my life. And my family. He moved on as if nothing ever happened, while I was left to pick up the pieces. Now, he’s back and he wants me.   To him, I’m a pawn to be used. Leverage. But I’m no longer his. I’m his brother’s betrothed. Stuck between two brothers, the push and pull unbearable. One wants me, the other needs me. But the Leone brothers will learn that this queen won’t be a pawn. To me, they are both men deserving of pain and poison.   My family thinks I’ll accept my fate.

Well, I plan to fight it.

BOOK 3: WRATHFUL KING

Preorder today https://amzn.to/46LpPKF

Add to your TBR https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/157720630-wrathful-king

Blurb

It killed me to leave her behind.

Every night I closed my eyes to the images of her lifeless body in the hospital.

Her second chance came, but it wasn’t with me. It was with my brother.

I wanted to kill him and take his place.

Except it wouldn’t change anything. She hated me.

But then secrets unraveled. The truth would twist into something bitter before it set me free.

Masks dropped. Gloves were off.

I’d fight for her. I’d bring her back. I’d protect her even if it was the last thing I did.

We made a promise. She was mine, and I was hers.

To win, I’d risk it all. My heart and life included.

Meet Eva Winners:

Eva Winners released her first novel Second Chance At Love in 2020 and has been writing feverishly ever since. She writes about everlasting romance for every century focusing on characters emotional development and always guarantees an HEA.

She loves yoga, wine and her kiddos. In her spare time, she seeks adventures either hiking through trails, yoga or exploring the beaches.

Writing books has always been her passion and she brings real life to the forefront in everything she writes about.

Deeply passionate characters and stories will draw you in and you'll never want to leave.

Follow her on social media to stay up to date with all her new releases!

Connect with Eva Winners:

FB group: https://bit.ly/3gHEe0e

FB page: https://bit.ly/30DzP8Q

Insta: http://Instagram.com/evawinners

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/eva-winners

Amazon: http://amazon.com/author/evawinners

Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/evawinners

Twitter: https://twitter.com/EvaWinners

TikTok: https://bit.ly/40IPbpM

Pinterest: https://pin.it/1vq7GIf

Spotify: https://spoti.fi/3HCeoJF

Newsletter sign up www.evawinners.com

[palefestivalrebel]

12 Must-Read Books For Your Bookshelf (Christmas Gift List)

Introduction

If you are looking forward to add amazing and top-notch books, for example, the best historical fiction books, to your bookshelf or are willing to gift a books list to someone on the auspicious occasion of Christmas, no book selling website other than the 'monsterbookshop.co.uk', which is growing at an unbeatable rate in the UK market, can provide the cheap books online at affordable prices with the facilities of 'safe delivery' to the customer's desired location at minimal shipping cost and 'replace & refund' policy.

Here's a list of the top 12 Must-Read Cheap Books online including the best historical fiction books, either to add to your bookshelf collections or use in your Christmas Gift List:

1. Written in my own Heart's Blood: One of the best historical fiction books, "Written in my own Heart's Blood", is available in the category of cheap books online on the website 'monsterbookshop.co.uk'. It is the eighth epic volume in the multimillion-copy best-selling Outlander series. This time-traveling-centered best historical fiction book also combines the essences of romance, adventure, and fantasy together to please & entertain the readers.

2. Telegraph Days: The best historical fiction book "Telegraph Days", available in the category of cheap books online, has been written by the very famous author 'Larry McMurtry'. It is basically a literary fiction depicting the story of a courageous, spunky, and attractive woman who puts aside her personal greed and conquest in order to unflap.

3. To the Bright Edge of the World: 'To the Bright Edge of the World' is among one of the best historical fiction books available. Apart from the historical fiction genre, it also depicts some stances of adventure fiction. From the BestSelling author of 'The Snow Child', it is an atmospheric, transporting tale of love, adventure, and survival in the mists of life's perplexity. Its story is so satisfactory and mind-soothing. It has also been awarded as 'A Library Journal Top 10 Book of the Year.'

4. The Burning Chambers: Full of love, mysteries, betrayal, secrets, war, adventure, conspiracies, and divided loyalties, Kate Mosse's "The Burning Chambers" is among one of the best historical fiction books available in the category of cheap books online. Its gripping story is focused on bringing the 16th-century Languedoc simplicity to life.

5. The Angry Tide- A Novel of Cornwall: 'The Angry Tide- A Nobel of Cornwall', one of the best historical fiction books, is filled with the essence of illicit love. It also flares the Synopsis expand and collapse. It is also one of the major TV series from Masterpiece on the platform of PBS. The sweeping series of the Angry Tide revolves around a distinct pleasure and incomparable elements of historical fiction.

6. Village Idiot, The: The best historical fiction book ever "Village Idiot, The" revolves around the effervescent and wild story of the life of an extraordinary artist. This amazing book, available in the category of cheap books online, is Steve Stern's astonishing new novel focussed on the carnages of World War 1.

7. Suffolk Arboretum: Suffolk Arboretum: An Anthology of original East Anglian Stories inspired by Remarkable Trees and Woodland, is among one of the best historical fiction books. It has been divided among the category of cheap books online with a clear glimpse of the beautiful Suffolk landscape around Sutton Hoo.

8. Six Tudor Queens: Anna of Kleve, Queen of Secrets: Six Tudor Queens 4: Among the top and must-read best historical fiction books for your bookshelf, "Six Tudor Queens" is a Sunday Times Top Ten Bestseller. Its whole story revolves around the major six queens who struggle to bring Katherine of Argon dazzlingly to life.

9. MacGregor Trilogy: 'MacGregor Trilogy', among one of the best historical fiction books, emphasize on charting the story of Rob Roy MacGregor and his nephew. Also among the cheap books online, it is a contemporary romance series of a beloved family and has been termed as the 'No.1 New York Times Bestselling Author'. It is basically a full-length spun-off filled with contemporary, historical fiction and suspense.

10. Queens' Play: Second in the legendary Lymond Chronicles, "Queens' Play" is among the best historical fiction books. It is basically a spy story and has a very complex plot where a man attempts to infiltrate the queens' lust for gambling in a more fascinating way. Anonymously, it is a Caroline Era tragicomedy.

11. The Lost Army: "The Lost Army" is also one of the best historical fiction books available in the category of cheap books online which focuses on encompassing the collective acts of heroism of the ancient world. It is basically a story of 10,000 Greek soldiers who have been trained for attacking the Persian king by his own brother.

12. City of Girls: Elizabeth Gilbert's "City of Girls" is among the best historical fiction books available in the category of cheap books online. Its story depicts a scandal showcasing a young costume designer who is photographed kissing a showgirl named Celia Ray, & an actor spots them doing so. It is an amazing love story like no other with powerful wisdom related to human desires and connections.

[dany36]

finally finished watching the tales of zestiria anime and wow, they really changed a lot of things from the game! some junk thoughts below:

i think my favorite (and totally unexpected) change was that at no point was maltran an antagonist in the series. i was actually kind of dreading when she was gonna betray alisha because wow, idk if it was just me but they really made her super likeable in the anime! like in the game you can kind of sense where things are going but here she had a more air of righteousness and genuine care of alisha and her well-being. i was impressed at how good her character was "faking" being good so i was gonna be sad once alisha would find out the truth (when she was captured and about to be executed i kept thinking that it was a trap or something), but to my most pleasant surprise, that wasn't her role in the anime at all! it was great seeing her in the actual supportive, mentor role at the end during alisha's coronation or whatever so hurray for that because alisha has suffered long enough dammit lol. like...i think before the ending, we only see alisha smile a couple of times! she's always going through SOMETHING and being attacked all the time so seeing her so happy in the ending was great!

then there's the fact that sorey was actually able to purify a dragon and not have to resort to killing eizen. that sidequest actually broke my heart so i mean yeah it totally contradicts the game but hey, if my girl edna is happy, i'm happy.

it's been a while since i played the game but wasn't there a specific reason why alisha couldn't armatize? i mean i thought it was a cool change but sadly we don't get enough of rose and alisha armatizing and kicking ass!

and speaking of alisha and rose, really loved how heavy they focused on them in season 2. to be honest, i had started watching the anime a couple of months ago (after i had originally completed the game), but i stopped a couple of episodes before season 1 because...i found it kind of boring lol. the one (or two?) episodes we got about tales of berseria were great and i was screaming internally of joy the entire time, but idk, i originally said that the main story/conflict in zestiria was kind of weak from the start, and i think this anime just highlighted that even more since they spend quite a few episodes in season 2 talking about rose and her past as well as alisha's whole conflict. which! of course i don't mind because i find sorey to be a pretty boring protagonist and in season 2 he doesn't really do much until towards the very end. so yeah, personally i found it more interesting when the anime was focusing on other characters and i actually started to lose interest towards the end when the focus was back again on sorey :y

symmone was a weak antagonist in the game and wow she was even worse in the anime. same thing with heldfalf. there is never really a threat of him actively being a danger to the party (he literally is just waiting for sorey to go to him) so again, thought his whole presence was kind of boring and lame from a plot perspective.

honestly i thought the ending in the game was kind of sad and depressing. rose and alisha are dead (seeing rose's grave is like...why!! why would you do that!! is it not enough suffering that you show us magilou's tomb as well so now we gotta see rose DEAD??) and we don't really get to see them or the rest of the seraphim being happy or anything. so in regards to this, the epilogue was way better! except...for the terrible job they did with the design for rose. like...why does she look like a female version of luke fon fabre >:'v her normal design is one of my favorites from the female character in the series and they really screwed that up with her grown-up version lol. but hey alisha and rose are still totally gay for each other in the anime so can't complain there!

also not sure how much time passed from when alisha mentions she saw mikleo to them showing mikleo in the end. because it made it seem like not much time passed and sorey is awake after just a couple of years WHICH in the game it looks like a long-ass time passed because of them showing rose's grave (time to fucking cry!!!) so it's like...cool, sorey woke up a couple of years later so instead of saying hi to the friends that accompanied him in his journey, forget about them and let's just go off and explore some ruins together! idk maybe i misread the scene but i felt that was kind of weird?

overall, i'll give it a 6/10. had its good moments but when focusing on the actual conflict of the game and not on other characters (edna and her brother, dezel, rose, alisha), it shows how weak and boring the actual plot of the game was. i'd watch it again though :) i really enjoyed watching my favorite zestiria characters again and honestly it made me want to replay the game! sigh, someday, anyway... :'v

[nastybuckybarnes]

Hoist the Colours  -  1/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader

Summary: Bound to your human form and cut off from the sea, your life is exchanged from pirate to pirate, until a ship of the King intercepts a sale, taking you onboard and saving you from a fate worse than death. 

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Kinda slow burn

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long so I figured meh, what the hell. It’s mega inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End cause Calypso owns my uwu and I love the story of her and Davy Jones. Um, I hope you enjoy! 

~*~

His hands gently caress your skin, gentle with you, a stark contrast to the man who rules the seas. He treats you as if you're delicate, though he knows you're not.

His touches are so, so tender.

"I love you, my (Y/n)."

Fingers skimming over your back, trailing over your spine and down your legs. His hold on your body is soft, while the hold on your heart is strong.

"I love you, James.  My love for you will never die. You hold my heart in your hands." He holds the back of your head with one hand, tilting you back a bit so he can look into your eyes, crystal blue depths pouring out emotions while saying few words.

"You have my heart, and you shall continue to have it until the day I die."

~

“Are we ready to set sail, Captain?” The young man looks up through his lashes, squinting against the harsh sun and the spray of the sea.

“Aye, I think we’re ready. What say you, James?” The blond man looks to his first mate, who stands by the edge of the ship, staring out across the open water with a small smile on his face.

“The wind will be with us today. Our journey will be bountiful. There’s a change in the tide, a new dawn on the horizon.” Steve grabs his friend’s shoulder, looking into his eyes.

“I can feel her, Steve. We’re getting close. I know it.” The blond smiles and looks over to the boy, nodding once.

“All hands, prepare to make sail!” He shouts, running down the stairs to alert the rest of the crew.

Steve walks over to his helmsman, patting him on the shoulder.

“Where to today, Captain?” Sam asks with a grin.

“We head for Tortuga,” he says, glancing over at James. The brunet nods, eyes focused on the sea.

~*~

“All hands! Battle Stations!”

You shift to your knees on the hard wooden bed, looking out through the tiny porthole.

“What is it?” Wanda asks, her voice scratchy and hoarse.

“The Royal Navy,” you whisper, bound hands grabbing handfuls of your dress to move it out of the way, allowing you to sit more comfortably to watch as the three ships converge on the one you’re currently imprisoned upon.

“What will they make of us?” She wonders aloud, fingers spinning dainty red circles in the air. You bite your lip, knowing too well what they’ll make of you.

“Our chances of survival are higher with them than with our current captors.” She shrugs, lying back down as cannons boom overhead.

You close your eyes, exhaling deeply through your nose and conjuring what you can.

It’s effective, and the sky is soon booming with thunder. The ocean tugs and turns, waves crashing against the ship, the fighting getting drowned by the rain.

You hear the tell-tale thuds of the ship being boarded, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re transferred from one cage to another. But you hope that the new cage will be slightly more comfortable.

Two sets of feet clomp down the stairs and you and Wanda both sit up.

A man wearing the signature red and gold of the King walks towards you.

A young boy, easily no older than sixteen, stumbles after him.

“Boy!” He shouts, turning to him. He cowers, clearly not wanting to get hurt.

“Why are these women in chains?” He demands. The boy looks at you, his eyes widening for a moment before he swallows hard.

“C-cap’n says that they be witches. He locked ‘em down here to protect the crew. Said it bad luck to bed them.” The King’s man stares at you then at Wanda.

“Witches? How?” The boy’s fingers tremble as he points to Wanda.

“Th-that one there, she be a true witch. With red flames and a sixth sense. She can control men to do her bidding. Cap’n locked ‘er up with them special chains, keeps her powers at bay.” Wanda’s eyes glow a fiery red as she’s reminded of the mistreatment the Captain has shown the two of you.

“And this one here?” The man steps closer to your cell door, eyeing you closely.

“She be of godly descent. Power over the wind and tide, no doubt the conjurer of the storm. She be tied to the ocean and the ocean to her. She controls the monsters, the demons that lurk in the deep. Cap’n treated her better than any woman deserves, but he stopped, got lazy. And this is her punishin’ us for it. You mark my words. She created that storm.”

The man cocks his head to the side in curiosity.

“Bring them over. The boy too. The King will want to hear about this.” The boy quickly unlocks your cells, and then you’re being ushered up the stairs and above deck.

The sky, which was dark and dangerous nought five minutes ago, is clear and blue. Dead bodies lay askew on the deck, blood staining the wood.

The men of the King stop and stare as you and Wanda are ushered towards the gangplank.

A man whistles, his hand coming to your shoulder, and you wrench yourself out of his grip, levelling him with a hard glare as a boom of thunder explodes overhead, a crack of lightning touching down on the water beside the ship.

Everyone is silent, the Captain staring at you in wonder and awe.

“No one is to touch the women,” he announces loudly, making sure all his crew can hear.

“They are to be treated with the utmost respect. Do not touch them. Do not even look at them in the wrong way, understand?”

He’s met with a series of “aye captain”s.

You square your shoulders and cross the plank, Wanda right behind you.

The two of you are then promptly led to a small office.

“The Captain will be with you shortly,” the man says, closing the doors and standing outside, his back to you. You glance at your friend and nod slightly, a silent ‘I told you so’. She rolls her eyes and looks around the room.

“He means to bring us to the King. We will no doubt be exploited for our powers yet again. There is no way we win this.” You shake your head, eyes finding a paper on his desk.

Anthony Edward Stark.

The name rings a bell, but before you can put your finger on it, the door is opening and the Captain walks in.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I’m the Captain. Tony is what my friends call me. I suppose you may call me that as well. So... witches. Do you have names?” You’re shocked, and it’s obvious on your face by the way that the man laughs.

“We’re not barbaric. It’s obvious to me that you were being held captive on the HYDRA ship. You may as well get comfortable here with me.” Wanda stays standing by the door, but you approach him.

“I am (Y/n). This is Wanda. What do you plan on doing with us?” He sighs heavily and sits down at his desk, pouring himself a glass of alcohol.

“I plan on continuing my route as I was supposed to. We’re to make port in Tortuga for some business, then we head back to England.” You furrow your brows.

“Why not take us back to England now?” Wanda asks, her eyes red with suspicion.

“Because anytime away from the King is time I cherish. And I think the two of you will make excellent company.” He smiles, winking at you.

The glass in his hand shatters and he curses, jumping up and away from his desk.

“Not that kind of company! Jesus! I just meant that I would like to learn more about your powers.” You look over at Wanda, whose glowing eyes are trained on Tony.

“And how do we know you won’t treat us the same way they all did?” She asks, her voice a venomous whisper.

He sighs and looks at the two of you for a moment, his eyes lingering on your necklace.

“Because. My mother was like you two. A sea witch, born with powers unparalleled. And I saw what men did to her for it. I will not let that happen to you as well.” The two of you are surprised at his words. Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment before he clears his throat.

“I’ll see to it that the two of you have proper quarters, as well as changes of clothes. And I humbly welcome you to His Majesty, the King’s, esteemed ship: The Avenger.”

~

“Jesus Christ,” Steve whispers, taking off his hat in respect as they approach the wreckage in the water.

Sharks are circling, picking at any scraps of human flesh that they can find. Ship splinters and rope pollute the water, and the crew instantly know that this is the work of the King’s men.

“A quick fight,” James says, watching from the quarterdeck. Steve nods, curious about the events that transpired.

“Man overboard!” Someone shouts, and all eyes are searching for the body in question.

They see the subtle splashing, the man’s body mostly on a large piece of wood from the mast.

“Haul him up!” Steve shouts, hurrying to the spot to make sure the man’s okay.

When they finally get him over, he’s nothing but coughs and water, fingers trembling as he regains his bearings.

“What’s your name?” Steve asks, patting the young man on the shoulder.

When he finally looks up, everyone gasps. “It was the witch,” he whispers, blackened eyes darting around in fear.

“Witch?” Steve asks. This piques Bucky’s interest.

“Sh-she called the storm. Dragged the ship down down down, and now she goes on the celebrate with the King.” Bucky pushes forward, grabbing the man by the collar.

“The witch, what was her name?” The man shakes his head, eyes lolling to the side.

“Never name, only a witch. Never trust a woman... she be beautiful as a sunrise but deadly as a snake. I’d rather face a siren than that witch again. She owns the seas, is one with the winds, and she has a hatred in her heart for men.” The man stops to cough up water, his eyes rolling back as he starts convulsing.

Bucky stumbles back a step, his heart pounding in his head.

“Buck?” He shakes his head, climbing up the ladder on the mainmast to the crow’s nest. His eyes strain to see anything, any sign of where he should go.

What he sees leaves him feeling more hopeless than before.

Three of the king’s ships, on the very edge of the horizon, each going in separate directions.

He takes a deep breath in then climbs back down, furious with himself all over again.

“Buck? What the hell was that?” Steve demands, grabbing his best friend’s arm.

“It’s her, Steve.” Those three words are all it takes for Steve to understand.

“Which way did she go?” He asks softly, trying to help his friend.

“I’ve got no clue. There were three ships, all heading in different directions. There’s no way to know which ship has her, and we can’t very well follow all of them.” Steve sighs, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“We’ll find her. I swear. But until then we maintain course.” The brunet nods, eyes finding the wreckage in the water and praying to the gods that he finds you soon.

~

Tears wet your cheeks as you stare at the locket, fingers stroking the cool metal gently.

“If the memories pain you so, why conjure them so frequently?” You glance over at the brunette, wiping the wetness off of your face.

“Without the pain, I would forget my hatred. I would forget my purpose and I would lose hope.” Wanda nods thoughtfully, leaning back against the wall and sighing.

The quarters you were given are lovely. Soft beds, plenty of blankets, and a door with a lock. It’s all you could ask for and more from a ship belonging to the king.

“What do you suppose he’s going to do with us?” Wanda asks, fingers spinning a quill in the air above her head.

“I’m not sure quite yet. He seems to be genuine, but I fear he has ulterior motives. Surely, he’ll bring us to the king at some point. But until then... I only hope we fair better here than our last ship.” She nods, closing her eyes and lowering her hands, the quill dropping to the floor beside her as she spreads her fingers, red seeping out of her hands and down through the floorboards.

“There’s a change in the tide,” she whispers, her eyes opening and glowing red as she glances over at you. “Can you feel it?” You close your eyes, feeling the pull of the ocean deep in your gut.

“I feel it,” you whisper, “a change in the wind. A new presence is upon the waters, a dark one. I fear they are stronger than they seem.”

[taylorkellyreporting]

i hope no one minds if i liveblog this bitch: the captain swan show rewatch edition 🪝 🦢

right s2 let’s go

snow reuniting with her family 🥺

poor emma :/ must be so bittersweet

“i thought you’d changed.” “what, in the hour you’ve known me?” lmfaooo

i gain killian and sleeping warrior this season!!

“i made a promise to henry. she’s not dying.” parents die all the time, he’ll get over it. let that bitch GO

“you love him.” oh baby not in the way you think

rewatching the hat scene in regina’s office and it’s so obvious to me now that emma had magic in her like it wouldn’t work til she gripped regina’s arm

“i don’t want to hurt anyone!” “hard to believe you’re from the same family.” oh you’ll believe it eventually

“gramps” 🥺

regina is such a horrible mother idk how henry tolerates her

henry calling regina out for what she’s done to him👏🏻

“you will hold the hearts of your people in your hands.” lady you have no idea

“and i won’t become like her?” you’ll be worse

letting henry leave with charming was the only selfless thing that regina has ever done

regina: i want to redeem myself

also regina: *continues doing terrible shit*

henry and charming taking a drink of their sodas at the same time was so cute

“we can’t do that with our tales between our legs! no offense.” 😭😭

“have you ever seen an ogre?” “pretty sure i’ve dated a few.” pls i love her

“when is the last time you shot an arrow?!” “28 years ago. guess it’s like riding a bike.” 😭

mama charming 🥺

“actually, she’s my mom.” aurora’s face gjvjfjsk

“what kind of corset is this?” 😭

josh has such beautiful eyes, woah

snow and charming having lancelot marry them so mama charming can be there to see it, i’m crying

the way that’s not even lance

“is there…something i need to know?” lmaoooo

“you gave up…everything for me. and you’re still doing that.” i love their relationship so damn much

“i’m not used to someone putting me first” 😭

oh God snow crying as she looks at the nursery!! shoot me and it would still hurt less

rewatching emma and killian scenes is gonna hit so hard like they hated each other at first and all i’m gonna think about is how the series ends with them happily married and parents to a baby girl 🥹

henry’s face as he’s watching jefferson reunite with his daughter 🥺 he misses emma so much

that nasty old man watching charming and henry :/

THE LOVE OF MY LIFE MY HUSBAND MY NUMBER ONE HE’S FINALLY HERE

disney+ having the description for this episode be that rumple tries to save his wife being taken by pirates is so funny knowing she leaves him willingly

hate that i have to watch more of rumple’s past in order to get killy but yk what it’s worth it

ladies and gentlemen…him.

and from this moment on…the show changed forever

“he’s a tad taller than you described” 😭

sexy ass mofo

“on your feet for the captain” i’d be on my feet…knees…anyway-

“you have my wife.” “i’ve had many a man’s wives” pls

oh how i wish that belle would’ve stayed at the library, been best friends with red and eventually fallen in love with will

he’s so fine pls

gold going to charming for help, oh i know he’s desperate

this pic is so soft🥺

oh brother, mila wasn’t stolen

riiighhht he took his heart

oh wait no it was his hand he takes duh lmao

“are you asking for dating advice?” “of course not, no” plsjdjfjfksb

skipping every rumbelle scene is self care <3

and now he’s captain hook :)

really wish belle wasn’t so weak

LMAOO THERE’S NO BEAN IN HIS HAND

emma and killian soon!!

those poor people cora ruthlessly slaughtered :(

them <3

THEY FOUND KILLIAN, IT’S HAPPENING

neither knows that they’re looking at the love of their life i’m gonna cry

love the intro this ep

hit my pic limit so gonna make another post 👍🏼wasn’t gonna post ep by ep but here we are

[bonjour-rainycity]

Late in the Night | Part Four

Previous part

Prompt: Friends have a bet how long it will take the ship to get together (Content Challenge Day 7)

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1602

Warnings: None

Challenge participants: @game-ofthe-company @grunid @themerriweathermage @errruvande @the-reformed-ringwraith @awkwardkindatries

^^ Hey! If I haven't commented on your post(s) yet, it just means I haven't gotten the chance to read them. School has been ramping up, but as I have free moments, I'll be going back and looking at all your challenge posts <3

A/n: You guys...IT'S THE LAST PROMPT OF THE CONTENT CHALLENGE! What?! Thank you so much to everyone who participated and interacted with our posts. I had such a blast creating this past week and getting to know each and every one of you. I think it would be fun to do something like this again in the future, so let me know if you would like to be involved in planning/get updates! 

As always, I encourage you to check out the accounts tagged above and our masterlists! You can find the challenge masterlist here and my personal masterlist here. Okay, enjoy :)

Aragorn waits, keeping an eye on the trees.

The minute his friends from the eastern inn arrive, they will leave town.

He had a pleasant night — private room, hot bath, well-prepared meals — but is ready to get back on their journey. For all he knows, the brief rest he allowed them could have already cost them vital time.

That thought causes him to pace.

“Calm yourself, dear friend, they will be along shortly,” Gandalf councils.

Aragorn tries to heed the wise wizard’s advice. Sure enough, he soon hears the light sounds of feet crushing grass and twigs, and knows they are close.

The four of them break into sight at roughly the same time, and Aragorn notices two things:

One, Legolas and Y/n refuse to look at each other.

Two, Gimli wears a grin bright enough to rival the sun.

Aragorn knows he must speak with the dwarf as soon as possible.

Something has happened.

Merry, who doesn’t get enough credit for his observation skills, notices the oddities too, and elbows Pippin in the side. Their eyes grow wide, and it takes everything in them not to shout guesses as to what this means.

It is a good while before Aragorn, Pippin, Merry, and Gimli have a chance to convene and discuss the new development. All four of them, though of course dedicated to the task at hand, desperately want a resolution to their ongoing bet.

It had started innocently enough.

Merry made an off-hand comment about how well Legolas and Y/n seem to get along. Gimli noticed the lass was a clumsier fighter when Legolas was watching. Aragorn realized his friend seemed nervous around the human woman. Pippin saw how each of them smiled brighter when the other was near.

Somehow or other, the four of them had put together their observations, and the rest is history.

The bet was born.

Each of them had put down fifteen coins and a deadline, losing the coins if Legolas and Y/n did not become a couple by the deadline, and winning coins if they did. Knowing his friend’s shy nature well, Aragorn had given the two the lengthiest allowance — six months. Pippin and Merry recognized the bold nature of humans, and guessed it would only take four months for Y/n to speak her mind and Legolas to reciprocate. Gimli, on the other hand, thought the two were already head-over-heels for each other and wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about it, and had given them only a month and a half.

Each participant, knowing his deadline was drawing nearer, had taken steps to push the two in the right direction.

The hobbit friends moved Legolas’ and Y/n’s bedrolls closer when they weren’t looking.

Aragorn put them on watch together. A lot. To the point where he actually felt bad about the bags under Y/n’s eyes.

But Gimli, perhaps, had been the boldest of them all, and proudly tells his friends so the moment they are alone much later that evening.

“Quickly, they are suspicious why it took four of us to gather firewood and herbs,” Aragorn mutters, darting a quick glance in the direction of camp.

“Yes, just get on with it,” Pippin squeaks, then throws a hand over his mouth, knowing he might alert Legolas with his volume.

“Alright, listen up lads.” Gimli grins and proudly tells his tale. “Boromir and I got to the inn first, as planned, and the innkeeper asked how many were in our party. I said two, and the innkeeper made a comment how it was good we didn’t have more folk waiting outside, as his inn was almost full. Well, that got me thinkin’, so I inquired how many more rooms were available. The innkeeper said two, not including the ones Boromir and I purchased. So I whipped out my velvet pouch and paid for another room, fibbin’ a bit and saying I might have a lady friend visiting and wasn’t sure if she would want to sleep in my room or not after our activities.” He wiggles his eyebrows in response to the stunned looks of his friend.

Aragorn shakes his head slowly, a bemused smile setting in his lips. “So you paid for an extra room just to force Legolas and Y/n into sharing?”

“Right you are,” Gimli grins, placing his fists on his hips. “It wasna even that expensive — I’ll make it back three times over, now that I’ve won this thing.”

“Ah, ah, ah, hold on,” Merry holds up a hand, halting Gimli’s gloat. “You can’t prove they did or said anything to start a courtship, so you haven’t won!”

“They won’t even look at each other and the elf’s as red as a strawberry, of course something happened,” Gimli practically shouts.

Aragorn, reliably a voice of reason, intervenes. “We shall have to inquire then, but be smart about it. We do not want to jeopardize their potential courtship with our game.”

The companions agree, then quickly turn to the forest, gathering firewood and herbs to supplement Sam’s soup and their cover story.

{***}

Back at camp, Legolas sits on a low tree branch, keeping watch over all his friends.

But mostly Y/n.

He cannot pull his eyes from her face. She sits on a rock, staring into the fire, absently cleaning the mud from her boots. Without permission, his mind goes back to the way he held her this morning, tucked against his chest, her leg wrapped around his. It was wildly improper, and he should be ashamed of himself.

But he doesn’t feel ashamed. Because the way they woke up this morning didn’t feel improper, it felt natural. With all his heart, Legolas wants to wake up like that every morning — his favorite person kept safely against his side. He wants to guard her and give her a wonderful life and bring her home and have his people adore her, too.

Legolas’ resolve hardens, because he knows he can no longer keep this to himself. Y/n has a right to know how he feels, because it affects her too.

He pushes himself from the branch, landing on the ground in silence. With four long strides, he stops beside her, reaching down a hand. “Will you talk with me?”

She looks up at him, nerves like she’s never felt before erupting within her. But she gathers her courage, forces what she hopes is a smile, and takes Legolas’ hand.

She wonders what he’ll say.

All day, she had been lost in embarrassment. Somehow in the night, she’d thrown her leg over his and practically attached herself to his chest — who does that?! And he’d said nothing when they woke up, only got up and went about his routine like normal.

So obviously, he doesn’t feel anything for her.

And that’s what this conversation has to be about.

Briefly, though, she allows herself to remember what it felt like to be in his embrace, and knows that she will cherish that feeling forever.

The warmth of his hand in hers helps her hold on to that memory and, to her surprise, when they reach a secluded spot, he does not let go. No, he takes her other hand in his, clutching both tightly.

Legolas nearly shakes with nerves, and he wonders if she can tell? Does she know how he feels like he might be sick? Oh, he has never felt anxiety like this before, and desperately wishes for it to be gone.

So he wastes no time in putting himself out of his misery.

“I want to be with you.”

Y/n blinks. Surely she can’t have heard him correctly? “What?”

Legolas sighs — her reaction gives him no indication how she feels either way. He bolsters his courage, and tries again. “I feel affection for each member of this Fellowship. But whereas I love the others as if they were my kin, I am unable to deny that how I love you is different. Elves live long lives and thus take matters of the heart very seriously. And, well,” he shrugs, all eloquence leaving him the moment he sees the shy, hopeful smile spread across her lips. “My heart is with you.”

Y/n can hardly believe her ears. She thought that he didn’t…that there was no chance of…but rather than dwell on all her miscalculations, or the myriad of dangers that haunt their future, she decides to just enjoy the moment. She throws her arms around Legolas’ neck, and he grips her tightly against him.

She turns her cheek to rest on his shoulder, unable to contain her grin. “You hold mine as well. I love you, Legolas.”

He pulls back only to rest his forehead against hers, head swimming from the joy of her acceptance and at being this close to her. “And I love you.” She lets out a giddy laugh and he closes his eyes, soaking in the sound. But then he focuses again, for there is something important he still must ask. “Will you accept my offer of courtship?”

Y/n can’t help herself from bumping her nose against his affectionately, and it feels so wonderful, so free to be with him this way. She has no desire for her future to continue without him, and so, her answer is found easily. “Of course.”

Relief settles in Legolas’ bones, the nerves finally leaving him and being replaced with happiness.

Just as their lips meet, the four friends break through the tree-line, back from collecting supplies.

Gimli’s triumphant shout can be heard for miles.

“Pay up, lads!”

A/n The end! This is the last chapter of this mini-series! Thanks for sticking with me as I had some fun with this one. I keep tag-lists, so at any time, just let me know if you would like to be tagged in anything. I’m in the planning stages of a Haldir x OC fic, and while I usually stay away from OC’s, I just cannot fathom typing “Y/n” for the length that I’m planning on making that story. So be on the lookout for that! Hope you all are taking care of yourselves and please know that my inbox is always open. Lots of love!

LITN tag list: @angelic-kisses13 @lainphotography @anangelwhodidntfall @sheriffgerard @themerriweathermage @k-llama-llama @hirokosoul @wellfuckmyexistence @ipsychosocial @anjhope1 @my-lotr-obsession-is-unhealthy

[peachbear88]

Tale as Old as Time

A/N: Yes, it's basically Beauty and the Beast. I LOVE DISNEY MOVIES OKAY?

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

You shiver on the cold stone of the jail cell, wrapping your cloak tighter around you. How did you end up in the jail cell? A series of long, unfortunate events.

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

The door to your shabby home swings close as you prance down the cobble streets, book in hand.

"Little town,"

"It's a quiet village."

"Every day,"

"Like the one before."

"Little town,"

"Full of little people,"

"Waking up to say."

Windows are flung upon as the townspeople peer down at you.

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour."

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour!

"Bonjour."

A man with a long white apron proffers a tray of fresh, steaming buns towards you and you snatch one, nodding your thanks.

"There goes the baker with his tray like always,"

"The same old bread and rolls to sell."

He opens his mouth to protest but thinks better of it.

"Every morning just the same,"

"Since the morning that we came,"

"To this poor provincial town."

A man approaches you, tipping his hat.

"Good morning Y/N." You smile at his kind, pudgy face.

"Good morning Monsieur Hogan. Have you lost something?"

"Well, I believe I have. Problem is I can't remember what." He scratches his chin. "Oh well. I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere." His eyes float down to the book clutched in your hand. "Where you off to?"

"To return this book to Monsieur T'Challa. It's about 2 lovers in fair Verona." He snorts.

"Sounds boring."

You shrug and continue down the stone path towards the small town library.

"Look there she goes, that girl is strange no question."

A small band of boys watch you as you walk down the street.

"Dazed and distracted can't you tell?"

"Never part of any crowd,"

"'Cause her head's stuck on some cloud."

"No denying she's a funny girl that Y/N.”

The marketplace is bustling as usual as you slip through the many stalls. The familiar buzz of conversation fills your ears.

"Bonjour, good day, how is your family?"

"Bonjour, good day, how is your wife?"

"I need, 6 eggs."

"That's too expensive."

You sigh, spinning around.

"There must be more than this provincial life!"

You fling the door of the library open to find your second favorite person in the world, T'Challa, dusting the shelves.

"Ah, if it isn't the only bookworm in town! Where did you run off to this week?" He waves the duster at you, making you cough.

"Two cities in Northern Italy. I didn't want to come back. D'you have any new books?" You inquire, leaning over the small collection piled in the corner.

"I'm afraid not," He sighs. "But you may read any of the old ones you'd like."

You pick out your personal favorite.

"Your library makes our small corner of the world feel big." T’Challa smiles.

"Bon voyage!" He shouts as you close the door behind yourself.

"Look there she goes, that girl is so peculiar,"

"I wonder if she's feeling well." A scholar mused as you passed.

"With a dreamy far-off look,"

"And her nose stuck in a book."

"What a puzzle to the rest of us is Y/N."

You hop onto the stone wall of the well, still reading the book, nearly stepping on the hands of the laundresses cleaning on the edge of the well.

"Oh, isn't this amazing?" You twirl around on the stone wall, earning many disgruntled looks from the laundresses. "It's my favorite part because, you'll see." You hop off the stone wall, continuing down the path back to your home. "Here's where she meets Prince Charming, but she won't discover that it's him, till chapter 3."

"Now it's no wonder that her nickname is Beauty,"

"Her looks have got no parallel."

A disgruntled mother says, her fair daughters standing behind her, glaring daggers at you.

"But behind that fair facade,"

"I'm afraid she's rather odd."

"Very different from the rest of us,"

"She's nothing like the rest of us,"

"Yes, different from the rest of is Y/N!"

Peering through his golden telescope at you, Steve Rogers sighs from atop his handsome horse.

"Look at her Sam. My future wife." He hands Sam the telescope who accepts it rather reluctantly. "Belle is the most beautiful girl in the village. Makes her the best." He whispers confidentially, waggling his eyebrows. Sam cringes.

"But she's so... well-read. And you're so..." He looks Steve up and down. "Athletically-inclined." Steve waves him off, setting his horse at a healthy trot towards the town.

"Yes, ever since the war, I felt like I've been missing something. She's the only girl that has ever given me that sense of..."

"Je ne sais quoi?" Sam proffers. Steve scoffs, entering the village.

"I don't know what that means."

"Right from the moment when I met her, saw her,"

"I said she's gorgeous and I fell."

"Here is town there's only she,"

"Who is beautiful as me."

"So I'm making plans to woo and marry Y/N."

The fair girls from before swoon as Steve walks by, who only has eyes for you.

"Look there he goes,"

"Isn't he dreamy?"

"Monsieur Rogers!"

"Oh he's so cute!"

"Be still my heart,"

"I'm hardly breathing,"

"He's such a tall, dark, strong and handsome brute!"

They shriek in disgust as Steve hops off his horse, splattering them with mud. Sam hops off his horse as well.

"It's never going to happen ladies." He whispers as they whimper in distress.

"Bonjour!"

"Pardon!" Steve attempts to push through the crowds to get to you.

"Good day!"

"Mais oui!"

"You call this bacon?"

"What lovely flowers!"

"Some cheese, ten yards, one pound-"

"Please let me through!" He grabs a bouquet of flowers from a nearby stall.

"This bread."

"Those fish!"

"It's stale!"

"They smell."

"Madame's mistaken!"

"Well maybe so-"

You burst through the masses of people, twirling as you reach your home.

"There must be more than this provincial life!"

Steve slicks back his hair, approaching you at a smart pace.

"Just watch, I'm going to make Y/N my wife!"

The town resumes their unashamed staring at you.

"Look there she goes the girl is strange but special,"

"A most peculiar mademoiselle!"

"It's a pity and a sin,"

"She doesn't quite fit in."

"'Cause she really is a funny girl,"

"A beauty but a funny girl,"

"She really is a funny girl,"

"That Y/N."

The townsfolk resume their normal quarrel and haggling as you slip through the flimsy gate and through your cabbage patch. Steve follows.

"Y/N!" You turn to find Steve flashing you what he thinks is a dashing smile. You recoil in disgust, instantly speeding up your pace, hoping to get inside before he can get to you. A flood of hope grips you as your hand wraps around the door handle but a strong arm grips your other wrist and you deflate.

Sighing, you turn to face Steve.

"Yes Monsieur Rogers?" He flashes a greasy smile your way and shoves the flowers into your face.

"For your dinner table! May I join you tonight?"

At least he has the manners to ask, you think.

"Not tonight, no." He deflates slightly.

"Oh. Busy?" You wince, prying his fingers off your wrist.

"Not exactly."

"Oh. Then why not-" You cut him off.

"Listen, I really have to go. Books to read, places to explore, people to ignore." You open the door, sliding in and closing it before he can follow you. "Good bye."

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

You sigh with relief, taking a moment to catch your breath before continuing further into your home. A drawing pinned to the drawing board catches your eye. A charcoal sketch of you. Well, baby you to be exact. A smile graces your lips as you tear your eyes away from the sketch and to your father, Tony Stark. He hums a small tune as he tinkers with an elegant music box.

"How does a moment last forever?"

"How can a story never die?"

"It is love we must hold onto,"

"Never easy, but we try."

"Sometimes our happiness is captured,"

"Somehow our time and place stand still."

"Love lives on inside our hearts,"

"And always will."

You wrap your arms around him and he smiles.

"Hello papa."

"Hello Y/N. D'you think you could pass me the-" You roll your eyes, handing him the tool before he finishes his sentence. "-tweezers- Oh. Thank you." He pulls a broken cog from the music box. "And now, something long and thin-" You pull the hairpin from your hair and hand it to him. He glances at it and a smirk grows on his face. "No, no, not quite-" He glances at the machine again. "Actually, yes, exactly."

With a final prod, the music box comes to life once again. The two of you share a small smile before he shoves it into his leather satchel and hauls it outside. You follow him, watching as he loads it into a rickety wooden cart along with a few other items. Your horse, Elm scuffs the cobbled pathways with his hooves, eager to get a move on.

"Well, I'm off to the market dear. Anything you'd like me to get for you?" You smile, leaning against the horse as Tony swings his leg over the horse to straddle it.

"A rose." He scoffs, tipping his hat down to you.

"You ask for that every year!"

"And you bring it ever year." You retort and he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the forehead.

"Very well. A rose you shall receive. I'll see you in a few days!" With a flick of his wrists, Elm starts off at a trot and Tony waves goodbye one more time.

"Be careful," You whisper as he disappears from your sight. With a sigh, you return to the house.

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

You throw your dirty clothes into a barrel, adding some soap rinds into the mix before carrying it to the town well and rigging it to a horse which marches around the well. You smile proudly at your handy work. Self sufficient laundry machine.

Leaning against the wooden support beam with a sigh, you pull out your book and start reading. A small voice next to you grabs your attention.

"What are you doing?" You smile at her.

"Laundry. Come, come!" You pat the spot next to you encouragingly. Tentatively, she sits next to you and you hand her the book.

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

The pastor storms towards you and the little girl.

"Teaching another girl to read? Isn't one enough?" He sneers. You glare back at him, snapping your book closed indignantly.

"Nothing wrong with wanting to know more."

"We've got to do something about this." His wife mutters.

Before you can comprehend the meaning of her words, a man pulls your barrel of clothes out of the well and throws them to the ground, spilling the contents everywhere. You fall to your knees, scrambling to pick up the clothes as others laugh at you.

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

"Wow. You are so beautiful. No wonder everyone wants to marry you. So dashing." Steve whispers seductively, flexing in front of the mirror. Sam clears his throat causing Steve to jump. "What do you want Sam?"

"A certain damsel in distress awaits you." He quirks an eyebrow, gesturing with his head to where you crouch, gathering your sopping wet garments. He turns back to the mirror, slicking his hair back.

"It's hero time. I'm not done with you yet." He winks at the mirror before rushing to you. Sam leans into the frame of the mirror.

"Me neither."

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

From the corner of your eye, you spot Steve approaching rapidly. Gathering the last of your clothes, you scurry away.

"Ah Y/N!" You groan at your luck. "I heard you got in trouble with the pastor. S'all right. He never liked me anyways."

You groan in frustration.

"I was just teaching a child to read!" He smirks, sliding closer. You step back.

"The only children you should be concerning yourself with are..." He gestures between the two of you. You arch an eyebrow. "Your own!" You scoff, slipping through the gate and into the cabbage patch. He jumps over the flimsy gate and stomps towards you, squashing at least 4 cabbages. You watch him with barely disguised disgust.

"Look, you know what happens to girls when their fathers die? They end up like poor Agatha, forced to beg for scraps!" He points at Agatha, a rather kind but unlucky woman.

"Well, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it." You reply coldly.

"Look, let me make it simpler for your tiny female brain." He growls. You arch an eyebrow at his choice of words. "Marry me and you will never have to deal with that." You scoff.

"Marry you? I'd rather marry a rock." You slam the door in his face. He sighs, rubbing his face with a calloused hand. Dejected, he walks back to where Sam stands. You glare at him from where you stand on the balcony.

"Can you imagine, me, the wife of that boorish, brainless..."

"Madame Rogers,"

"Can't you just see it?"

"Madame Rogers,"

"His little wife."

You groan in disgust.

"No sir, not me,"

"I guarantee it,"

"I want much more than this provincial life!"

You sprint towards the green hills a good distance from the walls of the village.

"I want adventure in the great wide somewhere,"

"I want it more than I can tell."

"And for once it might be grand,"

"To have someone understand,"

"I want so much more than they've got planned..."

You sigh, running a grime covered hand through your hair before returning to your home.

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

You're pulling the ripe cabbages from the ground when it all comes crashing down.

A panicked whine comes from beside you. Your head shoots up to find Elm, pawing at the gate nervously.

"Elm? Where is papa?" Elm rears back, clearly skittish. "Take me to him!

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

You arrive at a monstrous looking castle, stone gargoyles with vicious fangs guarding the doors. You gulp, brandishing a large stick. The door handle is cool to the touch, sending shivers down your spine. You enter to find a well lit entrance hall, adorned with brilliant paintings and sculptures, although in the dark, they appear much more menacing.

With a gulp, you continue on, bringing the massive stick a little closer.

"Look Doctor Strange! A girl!" A voice whispers from the shadows.

"Yes I know it's a girl! I can see." A second, older voice snaps.

You whirl around but all you see is a flash of misty blue. Squaring your shoulders, you prepare yourself to investigate the blue wisps when a rough cough sounds out from above.

"Papa!" You race up the winding stairs into a much more sinister looking tower. Laying there on the cold stone floor is your father, his face pale and body shaking with each cough. The cold sunlight illuminates his face and he jumps up, grabbing the metal bars of his cell.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" You shake out of stupor, smacking the iron bars in a futile attempt to free him.

"I'm here to rescue you." Fear floods his features.

"No! You must get out of here! I'm old and my days are numbered. But you, you're young and you have so much to live for. Go, get out of here before she comes back!" You scrunch your face.

"She?" Massive footsteps echo from further up the stairwell. You raise the stick in front of you. A tall shadow appears on the stone walls of the tower. You gulp, inching forward but the figure stays in the shadows.

"You should not have come," A heavily accented voice rings out and your throat dries up.

"I had to. He's my father. Please, let him go." You call back but the figure scoffs.

"Your father is a thief!"

"Liar!" You cry.

"He stole a rose."

"I asked for that rose!"

An idea forms in your head and you slowly lower the stick. "Wait. What if you let him go and I take his place?"

"No! She means forever!" Your eyes widen.

"You monster! A life sentence for a rose?"

The woman laughs humorlessly.

"I was given a life sentence when I was little. Do you think I deserved it? You may call me a monster but trust me, I've been called much worse." You sigh, the gears in your brain whirring.

"Can I at least have a moment to say goodbye to my father?" The voice grunts and the shadow recedes. "Are you so cruel you won't even allow a daughter to kiss her father goodbye?" The figure pauses but slowly comes back down and into the light. Your throat dries up at the sight.

A beautiful girl in a blood red cape with auburn hair that burned in the torchlight, you felt your ears flush bright red. With a flick of her fingers, a red mist surrounds them and the metal gate swings open.

Your eyes grow wide at the display.

Magic.

You don't have time to think about it however as a strong set of arms wrap around you.

"Y/N!"

"Papa!" The two of you embrace as you discreetly waddle around so that his back is to the cell door.

"Y/N, listen to me. You have so much to live for. I lost your mother already and I can not lose you too. Live your life! Forget about me." He whispers into your hair and you feel a tear slip down your cheek.

"I will never forget you Papa. And don't worry. I will find a way out of here." His eyes widen before you push him through the threshold of the cell and slam the door behind him. He stumbles, falling onto his back, betrayal clear in his eyes.

"Y/N!" The woman stares at you for a moment, disbelief glimmering in her eyes before it disappears.

"You fool." She spits. Your father watches you with wide, horrified eyes. The woman grabs him roughly and drags him down the stairwell, his screams echoing off the walls.

"Papa! Don't hurt him!" A sob escapes your throat as you curl into a ball, wrapping your cloak further around yourself to preserve the warmth.

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

You sigh, shivering as a cool gust of wind hits your back.

'Forever damned to freeze in a cell. Some adventurous life this is' You think to yourself as sleep claims you.

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

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot @olsensnpm @peabrain112

[softlyjiminie]

to hold a dragon’s heart | k.t.h

⇢ pairing(s): dragon prince!kim taehyung x warrior princess!reader,

⇢ word count: 19.1K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: smut, angst, fluff,  forbidden romance, dragon shifter!au, royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au.

⇢ summary: two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge,  never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?

⇢ warning(s): please read! major character death, violence ( torture scenes + fight scenes ), war, cursing, alocholism, unrequited love, arranged marriages, failing marriages,  imprinting, painful sickness, unexpected pregnancies, slight prejudice against mythical creatures and women, heavy smut, unprotected sex ( please wear protection ) , virgin + dom!taehyung, virgin + sub!reader, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex ( male + female recieving ), nipple play, light degredation + dirty talk, breeding kink, cumplay, creaming, cunnilingus, slight exhibitionism, male masturbation,   taehyung has a two-headed penis (with spines), teaehyung has charcoal flavoured cum— i may have gotton carried away…

⇢ author’s note(s): hello everyone! this is my contribution to the @ficswithluv​ Love Library project! i was a part of the fantasy category with @jamaisjoons​ !! i worked really hard on this fic, and it’s probably my biggest work, i’m so proud of it so i really really hope you guys enjoy and leave some feedback <3

⇢special mention(s): i would like to thank my baby, miss gia of @fantasybangtan​ for helping me muse and giving me inspiration to complete this fic, as well as giving me feedback on this hefty boy n making it’s beautiful banner !! ( also i named the sea after you ) anddd my little babie @fantasyjoon​ for letting me name a kingdom after her teehee. I wuv u guys <3

two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge,  never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?

on opposing sides of the enchanted forest, lay two kingdoms. one, painted with magic and mystery, from the soils to the creatures that rules the skies. the other, a land blessed with human life, cultivation and opportunity.

the Avalerian dynasty, land of the mystical and the Phantis empire, land of the man. both peaceful kingdoms, until war struck.

when you were young and with a curious mind, when tales of battle between warrior and warlock were used to put your infant heart to rest, you would ask questions. many of them, but one always seemed to snub the minds of your elders. 

“why do we fight the war? why did it start?” you would beam curiously up at your mother, Queen aadaya. she was a beauty, hair dipped in the white snows of the Huntcan tip mountains, laced with the silver moon at its highest. her skin was smooth, illuminated by starlight and her heart, as pure as any gold. but queen aadaya was a warrior, trained in the arts of her people, like her mother and her grandmother before that. she had hoped to one day, train yourself and your siblings as well.

your mother shuffled over on the bed, squishing your eldest brother, hoseok and yourself, while pulling your younger sister—tamarae, into your lap. 

you remember so clearly, your mother tilting her moon crescent eyes and brushing back the hair on your face. “we fight for safety, of you and all children.”

lies.

you had yet to learn, as a naive little five year old, what war could do to innocents such as your mother. such as your people. war was not kind to anyone it met, it’s  raging scent of death and decay and blood reaching every corner of your once ethereal home until nothing was left. nothing but sadness, loss and a hole in your heart. 

you lost your mother by order of assassination on the night of your eighteenth birthday. they say, as a revenge attack, for the death of the dragon king but it was then that you learned that war took no prisoners, it had no mercy. war was not like the lullabies and stories your mother told. that day, the kingdom mourned the loss of their queen, and you mourned the loss of your mother, the safety she promised, a lie on the ghost of her lips. 

hoseok was drafted into the war not a year later, his own doing. he trained hard but not as good as yourself, you would joke. he was to keep hold on some land by elvin territory and whilst it wasn’t much, it was everything to your brother. hoseok could do something to avenge his mother. the day before his deployment, you sat with your siblings on your bed like you would as children, sneaking snacks from the chef’s daughter that hoseok promised to wed on his return. the three of you giggled and smiled and reminisced, ending the night with tears and tight grips on each other, praying that your family would be together again.

years later, you sit aged twenty one in front of the royal court. with hoseok gone and your father unfit to rule, you were next in line to inherit your mother’s throne. the chair itself, towering with a twisted golden design, was forged from the molten treasures of the dragons themselves. tamarae sits to your left, poised in a lesser dramatic chair and gown and to the right of you, your advisor, jungkook.

“why have you come?” your voice drifts through the throne room, eyes narrow on the pathetic excuse for a man before you. your father rises from his kneel, watching you with pleading eyes. in the years between now and your mother’s death, any relationship with your father had dwindled. he grew power hungry, gambling away any riches in hoping what he earned would replace the loss in his heart. he drunk whatever he could find, rendering himself ill. you often wondered why your mother ever allowed such a man to father her children. 

“i come, with but a suggestion, daughter.”

tamarae looks to you, worry struck on her young, delicate features. yet, your steely gaze remains in line with your father’s, an anger brewing in your stomach. it was not uncommon for your father to want to challenge you in front of the court, undermine your power as you made your road to queen. you had yet to prove yourself, according to the court but you hand an inkling feeling that was your father’s doing.

 “a suggestion, pray tell?” you jest, replacing your glare for a delicate smile. a giggle bubbles from your lips, making the lords and ladies flinch. “my people and armies are fed, the livestock and farms are thriving, we have hold on all land claimed by men and yet, dearest father, you continue to doubt me.” like your mother, you had many who doubted your role as a women in power, you learned to be kind but ruthless, in order to survive. 

the man himself, withered to the bone with sagging old eyes and a wheeze in his chest, rises from his knees with a dark glint in his eye. “my grace, whilst i mean you no disrespect, but by royal decree you are still unfit to rule,” he explains, gesturing to the court with wide arms. “you lack one thing.” 

narrowing your eyes, you lean forward in your throne as your jewellery glitters and rustles around your neck. the tension in the room is thick, a knife would barely be able to cut it, “like, what?” 

“a king.” 

you rip your body from your seat, sister following suit along with your royal guard. how dare he? the sick man, run along and say you needed a king to help guide you as queen. your mother had managed just fine on her own, taking the throne from a young age and resisting the temptation of men. until she met your father, a lowly bread maker and made him the man he is today. 

he had always envied her power, much as he did with yours. 

“a king? a king like you? pathetic and on his knees like the drunk bastard he is. i digress,” you seethe, much to the amusement of your court. but your father knows your wit, knows your weakness, after all he is the man who raised you. 

“it is by royal law, for a young queen to marry, my dearest YN...” the man begins, tilting his head up at you as he basks in the support of the lords and ladies around him. “and if you want to prove yourself worthy to the court, i suggest you start, with accepting a suitor.” 

“ridiculous!” 

an advisor from beside you, the predecessor to jungkook, steps forward wordlessly and blinks to you as if he’s asking permission to speak. “with all do respect, your highness, your father does have a point...it is required of you by law to...” 

their words are silenced with a quick glare, your nostrils are flaring from how angry you are and suddenly the blue silk gown that you wear is too tight and too fitting. tamarae places a hand on your shoulder to help calm your nerves, your little sister had always been in tune with your emotions, much like your mother had.  the young princess even resembled the queen, with tumbling wisps of snow white hair and kind eyes. 

“breathe,” she whispers to you, helping you fix your poise. “you’re doing just fine.” 

standing up talk, you ease your shoulders and smile smugly at your father. “since the men of this room, seem to doubt my ability to lead... i will prove the council before me, wrong,” your grin only widens when they ask you how, and you feel your sister’s worrisome stare burning into your cheeks. “by bringing you the heart of a dragon.” 

“don’t be ridiculous, your highness!” 

a lord from goodness knows what county calls, you only roll your eyes, making your way down the steps to pass your father smugly. the court has broken into a series of whispers, anxious, excited and concerned. the men around you have grown complacent, too comfortable with the idea of overthrowing you and making you weak. 

“silence!” you bellow, turning to address every being in the room. you hum in satisfaction as the quieten down, letting your mantle made of the finest cotton, trail behind you. “no man, no king has ever brought the heart of the dragon to this kingdom. if i am to prove myself worthy to you, then this is how it shall be. laugh if you must, doubt me if you will. but i was born and raised a warrior and in my mother’s footsteps, i shall follow.”

with that, the meeting is concluded and your father is left gobsmacked, once again. 

“don’t do anything stupid, YN,” tamarae mumbles to you that evening. you stand in her quarters, dressed in traditional fighting gear. the pants are a dark grey, patterned with swirls of a lily flower and embroider with your kingdom’s emblem of a crystal lily. the top matches, only this time you wear padding to ensure your protection. “and make sure you don’t get hurt.” 

you scoff, shuffling on a cloak and pulling the hood over your head to disguise your face. royalty wasn’t allowed out of the palace after dark, due to the risk of unexpected assassination. the council put the law into place after the tragic loss of their beloved queen. “as if I’d ever allow myself to experience any form of pain.” you tut, twirling around to locate your sword.

the weapon had been a gift from your mother, on the day of your eighteenth. she had deemed you a  worthy warrior, fit for battle after many years of training. it was a shame that she would not be able to see  you use it now. 

“you know what i mean, YN,” your younger sister sighs, pushing herself to stand and handing you the sheathed sword. a bright smile pulls at your lips and you lean down to press a kiss into her moonlit hair. “what if you don’t bring back the dragon heart? you’ll call yourself a fool and beat yourself up about it.”

“i won’t, i promise,” you hum, shaking your head down at tamarae. she was young and she worried for your recklessness, much like a mother would for her child. guilt was deepset within you, despising how your sister grew up barely remembering the woman who gave her life. “now if anyone asks...” 

“you wish not to be disturbed.” tamarae gives you a soft smile, manoeuvring her hands to grip yours. she gives them a gentle squeeze before backing away.

you give your sister a quick nod of the head before sliding out of her window and slipping into the night. 

the enchanted, Mailtaria forest was nothing like you had imagined. 

according to fairy tails, it was full of beasts and blood and gore but instead, you found twisted oak trees forming the shapes of hearts, soil that illuminated beneath your feet. the air was crisp, yet some how, warming and scented with the faintest of flowers. 

roses. 

you know in your heart, that if the war was nothing but a myth, yourself and your siblings could play here for hours on end as children. as you walk, your mind drifts to hoseok, wondering if he’s safe. the eldest of your siblings had been determined to fight the war ever since your mother’s passing, a headstrong boy who was fast on his feet but not with his mind. 

the crack of a snapping branch in the distance kicks your senses into overdrive, making you duck in anticipation of a sudden attack. with a hand hovering over the sheath of your sword, you inhale deeply through your nose to keep your heart rate steady. there is no time for nerves, YN, no time for hesitance. 

dragons were not creatures of remorse. 

you ease yourself out of the bushes, mindful of the ruffling leaves that glow with some kind of fluorescence, magic that you’d not once laid your eyes on in your entire life. had you not been in the deep wood of the enchanted forest, to find and kill the dragon prince, you would have admired them more. 

“why do you come, bearing a weapon?” 

perhaps you may have spent too long, admiring the glistening petals.

you gasp, whipping out your sword and holding its point to the throat of the boy before you. slowly, your eyes trail upwards, shock connecting in your irises as you realise that he’s...floating. the boy has the hair of the silver moon, eyes as deep blue as the rough and raging Gialara seas, his lips are the colour of a blood rose with small and pearlescent fangs resting comfortably against their plumpness. he also wears a loose silk shirt that hangs simply from one shoulder, exposing his pale and slightly scaled skin. his pants are also lose, black in colour like the night sky to match his shirt. you note, that while he floats upside down, head tilted back towards you and body arched, he is also barefoot. 

this must’ve been him, this must’ve been. “the dragon prince,” you hum cooly, steeling your eyes and reaffirming your stance. “i’m here to kill you.” your brows furrow in concentration, and the boy’s, in confusion. the dragon prince, pushes his bottom lip into a pout as he twists his body to face you fully. he sets himself down, against the plush grass and uses a single finger to flick your sword to the side. 

“you have found me, yes,” the boy nods, giving you a tilted and faint smirk after his curious stare fades away. “i am kim taehyung, son of Veles and prince of the dragons...” the dragon watches as your stance falters, mouth open in shock at his strength to manipulate your mother’s sword. your palms begin to sweat at the sound of his full title, the name of the dragon king reminding you of the loss of your mother. “and i know, you will not kill me. i sense your being is far too compassionate to kill a living thing.”

you huff, dropping your arms and sending the vile thing a seething scowl. “you don’t know a thing about me-“ 

“my apologies, princess YN, i’m afraid i don’t,” taehyung interrupts you, stepping forward to inspect you closely. it was almost as if he had never seen a human before, but then again he was nothing like what you expected, especially in a dragon prince. before you can blink, you have been cornered into a tree, completely vulnerable and in the open. if he wanted to, taehyung could kill you right then and there, for the first time that night, a sprinkle of fear and adrenaline pumps it’s way through your veins. you  glance up at the regal creature, shocked that he even knew such detail about yourself and bite your lip. “in that case, might you enlighten me as to, why you seek to take my life?”

taehyung is not what you expected at all, the question bouncing softly from his lips, as you begin to loosen up. his eyes shift to yellow under the light and you start to feel warm, as if you can trust him. “my father wants proof, that i would make a great and honourable Queen.” you explain bluntly, unsure of why the words feel foreign when mentioning it.

“interesting,” the prince comments, quirking  a brow and smirking down at you as he rises off of his feet. “humans and their need for death and honour, i will never understand.” 

and with that, taehyung disappears into the darkness of the forest. a chill runs up your spine, confused at your meeting but left wondering, what more was there to the dragon prince?

“...and then there’s the marriage proposal from prince seokjin, from the shatus kingdom overseas, would you like me to accept or deny?” jungkook drawls, feeling accomplished as he skips over the final sentence with a light frown. his heart clenches, but he doesn’t say anything further.

“yes, very good jungkook.” 

“YN...”

“mhm...”

jungkook sighs, closing his book before tucking it under his arm for safety. he wouldn’t have been so annoyed if you were at least, half listening to him. tapping his foot in annoyance, the young advisor furrowed his brow deeply. “well in that case, i’ll spread word to  the royal bakers that you will be requesting a cake made of pigs slop for the wedding party?” 

“sounds wonderful,” 

“...we’ll even give out small favours of their droppings too...”

“i’m sure the dukes and duchesses would love that, jeongguk...”

“i’m sure the whole kingdom would be delighted to know that you’re marrying kim seokjin.” 

you slam your palms down on the windows, whipping your head to look at jungkook in shock. an amused grin tugs at his lips, as he approaches you to ruffle your hair fondly. now you were paying attention. “i will do no such thing!” you protest, pink painted lips forming a pout as you make an effort you lay down your tundra of wild locks. “me? marriage? what a preposterous idea. i should have you executed for that.” 

“maybe now, you’ll learn to listen to me, your highness?” the raven haired boy titters, giving you an exaggerated bow. “you could never do such a thing to your oldest friend, YN.” yourself and jungkook had been acquainted ever since you could walk, a beautiful friendship blossoming over the many years. his father, had been your mother’s most trusted advisor during the war, he too passing away after the loss of your queen. it seemed that fate had its own twisted way of keeping yourself and jungkook together, for he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, much like you.

shaking your head, you push at his shoulders with a hidden grin and listen to the chime of his medallions as he sways. the silver lily on his chest, the symbol of the royal court, glistens much like the eyes of the man you met last night. taehyung’s beauty had entranced you so much, that the task at hand had been forgotten. of course, no one in the castle expected you to bring the head of a dragon back straight away...but something in you longed to see the awe, the shock and the respect on their faces when you did. they would learn to see you as their queen. 

but something about taehyung, made you weak in the knees. an inexplainable feeling, a shy tint to your cheeks and a beat in your heart. he was different, not at all what you expected. walking away from jungkook, you pivot on your heel, the flush to your cheeks becoming more obvious by the second. “there will be no more marriage proposals from now on, jungkook. make that clear to the neighbouring kingdoms.” you remark, nodding your head with the wisps of a smile against your lips. 

one of things, about having known you so long, is that jungkook could read you like an open book. the advisor could tell you were distracted, softer. it was almost as if his soon-to-be queen’s resistant and hard exterior had crumbled. this wasn’t your usual rejection of proposal, whereby you would growl and grumble so much so that the Huntcan tip mountains would quake in your presence. no, this was much like the time where the baker’s eldest son, yoongi, had snuck some treats up to your room when you were children. you had developed an infatuation for yoongi throughout your early teenage years, until he left the kingdom to open his own bakery, kissing you behind the rose bush in the royal garden on the night before he left. 

this was fascination, this was admiration. “you like someone,” jungkook teases lightly, a knowing smile tickling at the corners of his lips. “did you find a compatible suitor, is that it?” 

“the throne is my only object of affection,” you sigh, zealously. you twirled, a bright twinkle igniting stars in your eyes as the thought of taehyung’s silver lined ones and you can feel the excitement build in your veins. “a suitor? perhaps not,” the corner of your lips twitch up into a mischievous grin. “but the throne...it is a rather large one, is it not? awfully big for just one person.” 

jungkook raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed while his jaw tightens and his tongue pokes into his cheek. “i see, i’ll be sure to have the staff engage in some...extensive cleaning of the throne room. we can’t have her highness leaving messes.” he states, lips falling into a flat line. tilting your head, the glint in your eye dissipates and thick somber feeling fills the room. 

“jeonggukie?” you question with a quiet voice, swallowing thickly at his unexpected change in mood. 

the advisor shakes his head, tussled locks falling over his eyes. jungkook turns, shrugging with the book still tucked under his arms, prepared to leave the room. “if i may be excused, princess, i have duties to attend to.” 

“ah yes, of course...duties.” the whisper falls from between your lips, as you watch him go with an aching chest.

the view at castle ashwyn was one not to be taken for granted. the skies were daubed with gradients of apricot, papaya whip, and cherry blossom pink with dusting of baby power white as cotton candy clouds. the breeze was fresh, tinted with mint and rose, carrying the scents of the many flowers that twirled along the turquoise marble pillars of the castle. 

the grass outside was freshly cut all the way up to the village, where creatures of all kind walked amongst each other. pixies, werewolves, elves and all, living together in harmony and if you squinted hard enough, over the towering trees, you could see where they lived. the humans. 

taehyung hated it. 

the sickly sweetness that constantly surrounded himself and his people, where all that was in the human world was death, despair, greed and power imbalances. he hated the falsities that engulfed his father’s death, how everyone pretended. 

that there was no life of suffering outside of his own.  

it was beautiful here, life touched every corner to cover the illusion of the war beyond these walls. the prince felt trapped. he wanted to break free of all expectations, experience the world and see the legends he had been told as a child. taehyung was not a fool to the whispers, the taunts and teases from the royal courts. they had always doubted him for his optimistic view on the simple things, on them, for humans had taken his father and so he was destined to resent them for the rest of his life. 

“taehyung, my love, what preys on your mind today?” 

taehyung’s mother, the dragon queen, was a soft spoken and wise woman. ever since the death of his father, there had been many attempts to overthrow her from many kinds...including the sirens. and yet, they never once succeed as only royalty of dragon’s blood can bestow the crown. dragons had ruled the land of the Avalerian dynasty since the dawn of time, forging the first crown from the molten minerals buried deep beneath the castle’s soils. they were the most powerful of all creatures, dominating the earth as their large majestic forms but the dragons were also prime game for hunting, their scales and horns could go for up to a hundred gold coins. so the dragons learned to adapt, becoming shifters with a half human form, this allowed them to retain their abilities as dragons whilst allowing them to walk free amongst the humans.

the queen was stunning, and perhaps that is where the young prince inherited his charming look. her scales were of a deep cherry, shimmering under the lights like the brightest of diamonds. her black hair had curled tendrils that spiralled down her back and her skin was tanned by the golden suns of apollo. with piercing, aquatic eyes, queen elantris tilts her head to look at her son, she had always known his shifts in mood and thanked her maternal instinct for being able to read her ominous child.

“it’s nothing, your highness,” the young prince muses simply, turning to his mother with soft eyes and an awkward smile. smiling fondly, elantris shook her head and approached her son, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug. her tail swishes behind her, in her half shifted state, the castle being too small to accommodate for the large size of royally bred dragons. taehyung spares a glance to the older, and shorter woman, squinting carefully to see the diamond-slit irises in her yellowing eyes. it was almost laughable at how well dragons were able to shift between states, taking on a human form is completely desired. that is how they killed the human king. mastering the art of disguise. “perhaps, i am exhausted, i had a rather gruelling night.” 

“deep in thought again, my love dear?” elantris chuckles, brushing back  the fading ashy locks from her son’s forehead. taehyung sucks in a calmed breath, closing his eyes at his mothers warm touch and allows himself to shift too. he is much more relieved to have is tail free, blackened and swishing behind him. his ears become pointed and irises shift into diamond slits. elantris beams as her child transforms. “you’ve been keeping yourself hidden, i see.” 

“i needed to be out, some fresh air to clear the mind, mother...” the prince whines and stretches, shivering as his ash scales form over his skin and hair fades from grey to black. 

taehyung pouts under the gaze of his mother, what a sight to see. the most regal prince, pouting under the amused gaze of his parent. “away with your thoughts, as you always have been, my prince...” elantris lilts and lets go of the boy, moving towards her seat on the throne. the seat itself is glorious, spiralling toward the ceiling with peaks in its molten crystal. “what preys on your mind?” 

the young dragon, ruffling out his hair and adjusting his clothes. he wears a jewelled black jacket, a gradient of white pearls to obsidian diamonds. he adorns a fitting pair of black pants and boots with heels. taehyung shift his gaze to the diluting pink skies above and breathes heavily. “humans...why is that we despise them?” 

taehyung’s mother sucks in a breath,  tongue swiping over the ruby of her lips. the prince turns his body to look at the queen properly, tilting is head and poking his own tongue into his cheek as he eases a brow, awaiting his mother’s answer. “dragons are stubborn creatures, most unforgiving...it is not easy for us to forget,” elantris explains noncommittally, keeping her voice study and demeanour controlled.

“what is there to be forgotten? how did this all start?” 

“that is what we have yet to learn my son, this conflict has been raging on for centuries now, words and swords alike...twisted,” the dragon queen pauses, looking her son directly in the eye. “twisted into lies and fatalities...”

“and so...we fight?” taehyung prompts, his stomach bubbling with unease at his mother’s cryptic words. 

elantris nods, head held high. “and so, we fight.” 

“you are forgiven, you know.” 

you look up from your flower crown, fluorescent roses and tiger lillies woven together by their grass green stems and frown. taehyung is sitting in the trees, his hair is now the colour of a teal tinged with blue while his eyes simmered a warm amber in the cool night. 

meeting taehyung had been nothing but a coincidence, yet you found yourself becoming grateful for your accidental meetings. the clearing you shared with him had followed you to your dreams, being with him under the moonlight now brought you to ease.

“forgive me for what? do tell.” you probe tartly and turn your body in the grass to ask why. the dragon prince drops from the tree and you screw your eyes shut in fear of hearing the sickening crunch that often accompanies broken bones. but instead the prince floats above you, face but mere inches from yours as a taunting smirk touches lightly at his lips. a rosey hue tickles the apples of your cheeks as you look away, cursing the creature from under your breath. 

taehyung smiles and settles himself on the ground, sinking to his knees to aid you in making some flower crowns. “for being human,” the dragon shrugs nonchalantly and picks up a completed crown, leaning forward to place it stop your hair. his lips are a breaths width from your skin, and a warmth bubbles in your chest at the prospect of feeling them against yours, eyes closing. when you open them, you gasp at the proximity of they prince, blinking rapidly and blushing. he’s so close that it seems like he was watching you. “mother says dragons must learn to be forgiving. so here i am, forgiving you.” 

“what makes you think, that you are not required to seek my forgivenesses well?” you counter as a slight aggression weaves it’s way into your question, tilting your head upwards with stern eyes. taehyung bites his lip, slit tongue poking out to wet them at their swell. “should you not owe it to me? while my people die fighting against your best men, do you not believe that an apology from yourself, would be quite fitting?” 

you chose this moment to shuffle away from taehyung, turning to face the trees

in the distance as you pat the heat away from your cheeks. “your people have magic, powers. and mine? nothing but a bare chest, swords and a shield. yet, you do not hear me forcing the forgiveness of my people upon you,” you point out— almost too harshly, twirling a piece of grass between your fingers. “you sit, protected in your realm while only your most powerful touch the bloodied soils. you kill, as do i. i do not seek your forgiveness, but the life of my people instead. the life of young boys,” a pause in your speech allows your mind to flicker back to hoseok, your fingers how clenching the grass within your disgust. “barely fit to fight, that are drafted into the war. women and children who are torn apart. please, forgive me, for not wanting to accept your so called forgiveness.”

“how do you know this? that we only send out best?” taehyung queries nervously, his tone quiet as his feet come into your blurry field of view. he senses in his chest that you’re hurt, scared and in pain. this is what the war did, not to his people but to the humans. it hurt you. everyone. 

the laugh that passes your lips, is cold and cynical. your eyes possess a glassiness, glittering with fresh tears as you look to taehyung with anger painted against your face. “you have just told me.”  

guilt washes over the dragon as he crouches down before you, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your head up to face him. his thumb brushes the tears that spill from the corner of your eyes as his lips form the words that whisper, “i’m sorry.” 

he is sorry for your pain, he is sorry for the burden that you bare on your shoulders. he is sorry that he cannot make it stop, he is sorry. 

the following weeks bring you back to the clearing, where taehyung desperately tries to erase his night of ignorance. you would meet nightly, under the sky with glittering constellations and stars that told a thousand and one stories. you were away from the world where lives were torn apart and the cloud of death was ever growing. 

you were alone and happy.

taehyung would show you many of his tricks, how he could birth a flame just by the click of his fingers. how he could make smoke rise from his ears and nose and how the colour of his hair changed with his mood. the prince had become your friend, a regular occurrence to your life that you could not deal without. 

but tonight, you would be prevented from such luxuries. 

the tips of your fingers dabbed lightly at your lips, buffing the ruby red into your flesh. a maid worked by your side, primping and prepping locks of your hair so that they shone under the crystal lights. your makeup was light, yet fierce, shades of mint and green spreading across your eyelids to match the fitting ballroom gown you wore. it was lace that curled into silver lily flowers,  from the shoulders and down to your hips, twisting into a wide tule skirt that was painted with frosted blues and mint green fading into white. a necklace of pure diamonds rested just above your breast,  a matching crown woven into your tamed hair and a pair of earrings, your mother’s earrings to go with. as you sit still, letting the maids pretty you for the evening to come, you recall a time where you would have loved to be in a dress like this. times where your mother would only faintly dust your cheeks with blush whilst your father readied hoseok in the other room. tamarae was but a twinkle in your mother’s eye back then.

the girl in the mirror stares back at you, the trace of queen aadaya on her skin. closing your eyes, you take a deep breath to calm your aching heart and hum in agreement when the doors to your quarters open. tamarae beamed at you as her own maids helped her inside, she was a gown less bold than your own but equally pretty as fuchsia pinks spiralled soft lavenders. dresses like these were reserved for special occasions, to impress guests from outside castle walls, making a sick shiver crawl down your spine at the thought of elder dukes and lords and men vying for the attention of yourself and the young princess. 

of course,  the banquet for tonight was your father’s doing, in an attempt to find you a suitor right away. he claimed that you had failed to prove yourself in the last weeks, with no trace of the dragon’s heart in your possession. so with nothing but the grace of the queens before you, you accepted his invitation to host a banquet.

“you look beautiful, sister...you’ve grown so well,” you stand slowly, lifting your skirts to make your way over to the young princess. she bows her head in a small curtesy for you causing you to chuckle fondly. you allow your finger under her chin to tilt her head up, smiling softly at the girl, the spitting image of your mother. “now now, you are my sister, tamarae. formalities are not required for tonight, even if it is a special event,” you tease with a whisper in her ear, causing the younger to giggle slightly. “for you and i both know we shall be sneaking into the royal kitchen after the night is done!” 

tamarae tucks a white lock of hair behind her ear, giggling happily as her small hands clasp onto yours. “big sister, we both know hoseokie would have made me take watch if he were here,” she remarks in response  and pokes your nose, ignoring the glares of maids who had spent hours perfecting your look. 

as a young adult— becoming a queen, the ballroom was often a reminder of simpler days whereby warm summery breezes wafted through the large french windows, carrying soft scents of the fresh lemons and oranges that grew in the royal gardens. hoseok would have been chasing you down, playing the role of big bad dragon whilst you pulled a fumbling two year old tamarae behind you. your parents would always come running in to save the day, mother playing the knight that took hoseok down and your father the one who saved his two princesses. 

those were happier times, better times.

before you knew it, you were seated on the throne with the best view of the entire room. the ballroom had towering white pillars sprouting like flowers against a mahogany glossed wooden floor, the walls are splashed with an egg-shell blue with small cherry blossoms contrasting against the colour. accents of gold decorate every nook and cranny of the room and the ceiling paints a picture of fairytale creatures dancing amongst the man. men gallop across the hall with blushing ladies in their arm, those who aren’t dancing are stuffing their faces with the array of sweet treats and savoury delights that are positioned precisely against white sheet banquet tables. 

introductions pass without you paying any mind, distracted by thoughts of taehyung whisking you away to your clearing in the forest, playing with the many creatures there. you slip back to reality when a sudden pain spreads across your left rib, making you scowl at the culprit...tamarae. the younger smiles sheepishly and points to the man apparoaching your throne. 

his hair is a soft, candy pink, contrasting with the black blouse and dress pants he wore. when he bows to yourself and your sister, you catch a glimpse of his dark, misty brown eyes and find yourself curious to search them more. “he’s handsome,” tamarae teases you, moving to stand up as he steps forward. her gaze flickers up to your stoic face as she giggles. “don’t you think?” 

“he looks like he’s full of himself.” 

the man eyed you darkly while you held out your hand for him to take. “namjoon, kim namjoon...” his voice sends shivers down your spine, good or bad , you’re not sure. his skin is golden like honey and his tone drips with the same smoothness. “of the Kevimore kingdom.” 

namjoon gives you a dimples smile, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lush lips for a gentle kiss. tamarae giggles by your side as you watch the man through your lashes, humming in content. it was always nice to see a man bend his will for you. “you may address me, as princess YN of the Phantis Empire,” you say, equally as smoothly whilst you tilt your head to the side. namjoon straightens his posture, bowing in respect. “i do hope you enjoy your stay here, tonight.” 

with your final word, you turn your gaze to the crowd and watch as they twirl about in tune with the orchestra but smile when you catch the eye of your beloved advisor. you had not danced at a ball like this, since you were a child and back then, hoseok had always been your partner but he wasn’t here now, he was fighting a war that wasn’t his. your sister delivers a sharp elbow to your side, causing you to grunt as you ready to scold her into next year. “ahem,” she whispers, jabbing your side again and nodding her head in gesture to namjoon. “he’s still here.” 

“i’m aware,” 

“that means he requires your attention.” 

“attention that i do not have for a man, tamarae.”

“YN, he’s right there!” 

“and he can hear you...” namjoon interjects with a small chuckle, poking his tongue into his cheek while his lips form an amused smirk. he taps his ear while a light flush rises beneath the skin of your cheeks, much to the prince’s delight. 

you duck your head, imagining that the prince before you gets off at the thought of making you blush. “is there anything i can help you with, prince namjoon?” 

he nods once, pink locks falling into his eyes as his dimples smile appears once more. “a dance, with you? my queen?” 

blinking, your lips part in shock. the only person to ever acknowledge you as the soon to be queen was jungkook, and that was often a joke between the two of you. but for a split second, it seemed— that namjoon’s dark, stormy eyes saw past the extravagance and diamonds— and saw you. the queen you were meant to be. 

“she would love to,” you sister answers for you, pushing at your shoulder to force you to stand. you rise to your feet,  unsteady on them and almost toppling forward. namjoon quickly catches you by the arm, offering you an earth shattering smile with dazzling eyes as he chooses that moment to lead you onto the ballroom floor. following namjoon, you turn around and give your younger sister a faux frown, sticking your tongue out at her. the maids around you gasp at your behaviour, while tamarae giggles and mocks your face.

upon reaching the dance floor, namjoon skilfully pulls you into his arms, pressing his chest to yours to guide your steps into the waltz. “you’re light on your feet, are you sure you’re not a dancer?” he chuckles quietly into your ear, making goosebumps arise across the planes of your skin. 

you turn with him, taking the lead from his grasp and smile cheekily. “i’m trained to fight, being light on my feet is part of the battle.” but your grin quickly falls upon seeing jungkook turn away with disappointment, what was going on with him? 

“ah, i see.” the prince falls silent at your words, offering you a quiet noise of agreement as the pace of the music rises and you start to speed up your dance. 

namjoon is a handsome man, his terracotta lips seem warm and inviting, his eyes although dark make you want to lose yourself in him. the prince is tall, at least a head or so taller than you and his arms that hold you are firm and large. namjoon is attractive but...

but he is not taehyung. 

the pink haired prince dips you, face hovering over yours as he takes a moment to tuck a fallen hair behind your ear. your cheeks heat up at his proximity but you swallow down your nerves and stutter out. “n-namjoon...i,” 

“you’re beautiful, my queen,” he says simply, running a thumb over your bottom lips before he pulls you back into his chest. “what i wouldn’t give to have you ruling by my side.”

“e-excuse me?”

“you’d make an excellent wife, YN.” 

gobsmacked, you try to rip yourself away from namjoon but his grip on your waist is too tight and suddenly he no longer looks charming and gentle, a sinister stare taking over his features. “let me go, namjoon. by order of the princess i demand that you let me go!” you scoff at him through gritted teeth still struggling in his grip. “if you believe that flattery will get you my hand in marriage then you are severely mistaken, my prince. i am a queen born to rule without a man, and i shall do so, just fine.” 

namjoon tilts his head in a sympathetic fashion, pressing you closer to him. “oh but princess, we are already on the path to being wed,” he hums, his lips ghosting over yours as you squirm away from his touch. “by order of your father, i am set to marry you three weeks from now, since you failed to bring the head of the dragon prince.” 

“no that’s not, it can’t be...he wouldn’t...he wouldn’t do that,” you mumble, feeling panic rise in your chest and lodge itself in your throat. your perfect world suddenly shatters, your view for the future torn to shreds. your father had sold your soul away to namjoon, who you now saw as a man who yearned for power. “he can’t.”  

“then your father is not the man you believed him to be.” namjoon concludes. “now put on a pretty face and smile for our loyal subjects, my queen.”

you gasp with tears beginning to flood your field of view, your eyes searching in the crowd for someone, anyone to tell you it’s not true. who’s face falls at your wounded expression, he knows, you think. jungkook knew and he didn’t think to tell you. your heart shatters into a million pieces and all you can think is out out out. you need to get out. 

but for now you turn to namjoon and give him a dazzling smile through your tears, as jungkook watches you with a guilty gaze.

running.

they say that running is able to clear your mind. but instead all of your thoughts and fears ran wildly beside you as you bolted through the forest. you could feel them, all of your worst nightmares crawling up your spine and scratching at your skin as you tumbled through the forest. 

by the time you reach the clearing, you’re clawing at your throat and desperately gasping for air through your choked sobs. you can’t marry namjoon, you won’t marry namjoon. your body trembles with the sobs that wrack your tiny frame, the dress that you wear is suddenly too tight and all you can do is wail for an escape. 

“YN! you have returned, i have to admit i missed you dearly-“ taehyung starts to ramble, just having come from a flight amongst the canopies. the dragon cuts himself off when he notices you collapsing onto your knees and tearing at the dress. “princess YN? YN, are you alright?” he drops to his knees beside you, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. the prince hates the way your chest is heaving, how a wild panic has spread through your darling eyes. “breathe for me princess, it’s alright, i’ve got you.” 

your eyes stay with his as taehyung coaches you through, his ice like irises calming you down as they watch you with concern. the dragon prince brushes a hand through your hair to soothe you as you hiccup and sniff, attempting to ease your panic. “off, i want it off, all of it...” you grumble moving to tear at your gown. taehyung follows your movements, using a  shifted dragon claw to shred off the remains of your skirt and help you out of the tight fitting corset until all that remains is your sheer and tule petticoat. 

“better?” your companion asks, pulling you into his silk shirt. taehyung is warm, much morse so compared to the cool evening, you remember him explaining that dragons have a heart of coal. meaning that the blood that flows through them is heated and molten. 

you nod shakily and move to hold his hand as a wave of comfort washes over you. “much, thank you taehyung.” 

“are you going to tell me what happened?” the prince presses gently, not wanting you to hold it in. if there was anything taehyung had learned about you in the last few weeks, is that you never had an outlet. you were closed off from the world, locked away and never let anyone see the vulnerable sides of you and yet...you somehow found it in you to trust him. 

nodding slowly, you turn and bury your face into his firm chest, fisting at the silk of his new azure blouse. “my father...” you sigh, letting your breath even out as you stumble to find the words. “he betrayed my trust...he turned the court against me and made them promise me to another man...” you feel taehyung’s breath hitch as his chest moves. quickly, you move to look up at taehyung and all you can think to do is kiss him but you can’t, not when you’re now promised to another. “i don’t love him, i could never be in love with someone so horrible.”

the now raven haired, dragon prince says nothing, instead choosing to squeeze you closer into his broad frame. he doesn’t look at you, mind racing a million miles an hour. you were to be married. and it wouldn’t be to him. so it is with a waking start that taehyung realises he is deeply, sorely in love with you. his chest rumbled at the thought of another man’s hands on you, kissing you and touching you, touching what was his. without meaning to, you place your hands on taehyung’s chest and grab at his attention. his usual ocean eyes flash with yellow and his primal senses are suddenly full of you. all he can see is your face under the light of the moon and stars, all he can feel is your touch on him and all he can smell is the sweet scent of lilies, of you. 

“tae...taehyung?” you whisper, sniffling as you lean up and tilt his head to look at you. “i will be alright, i refuse to let this stop me from seeing you.” 

he ignores your words, pulling you to stand with him. “lets go for a fly.” the prince says with bright eyes, staring at you.

“a fly? taehyung have you lost your mind-?” 

“it’ll be fun, i promise you. it’ll clear your head.” 

you slowly tear yourself from taehyung’s grip, holding your hand to your chest with a nervousness swirling in your stomach. flying. taehyung had told you that he was able to fully transform into a dragon, with all the same abilities as well. he called it shifting, and that meant he was able to breathe fire, roar like a mighty beast and fly. “i’m scared...” you admit, sheepishly. “what if...what if i fall?” 

“do you trust me?” taehyung asks sternly, stepping towards you and holding his hand out for you to take. 

“i...what?” 

“i said, do you trust me?” 

you hesitate before closing your eyes tightly and nodding, taking taehyung’s hand. “i trust you.” 

your eyes remain screwed shut as the crunch of bones fills the unoccupied silence of the woods. you flinch at the sound and the slip of taehyung’s hand from yours, whilst his heaves and groans become growls and roars. away from the warmth of taehyung’s body, you realise how cold the forest is in just your petticoat but you’re shivers are quickly ceased when a puff of hot hair surrounds you and a large head nudges your body. opening your eyes slowly, you gasp at the large beast before you, the taehyung that you know has been replaced with an oblivion black dragon, hints of silver and blue illuminating his scales under the shimmering night sky. the dragon presses it’s head to your hand, making you reach out hesitantly as you stare deep into its amber irises. 

‘do you trust me?’ 

you remember taehyung’s words as the majestic beast bows to you, you chuckle and watch as the dragon moves back, stretching out to spread its wings. you imagine that the wings themselves must be as wide as the west wing of your castle back home. when the dragon returns to his original position, you’re met with a puff of warm air, strong enough to blow locks of your hair away from your face. “impatient creature, aren’t you?” you giggle to yourself and clamber up onto taehyung’s head, making him shake it in response. 

with a deep breath, you hold on tightly to the spines feathering taehyung’s neck and close your eyes once more, listening to the sounds of his wings flap as he lifts you both off of the ground. the next time you open your eyes, you’re up in the air, soaring above the clouds. the pair of you are so high that the colour of the sky fades from a soft pink to the deep blue below, the beginnings of the sun shining in the distance. 

then taehyung makes a nose dive. 

the air rushes through your hair as you squeal, heading face first for the land beneath you. taehyung spirals his body as you throw your hands into the air, squealing loudly with happiness, you can feel every fear and doubt that clogged your mind and body rush away with the wind in your face. the dragon prince evens out his body, spreading his wings as you drift across the night sky, watching the world go by with you above it. you lean forward and rest the palms of your hands on taehyung’s, stroking it lightly as you fly past the stars.

when the clearing reappears in your field of view, taehyung tilts his body and begins the descent through the clouds. he flies low, letting you reach your hand out to touch the glistening water below. “w-woah, tae...taehyung!” you cry in amusement, feeling him shift beneath you, his bones realign as he grows tired and reverts back to his human form. his wings somehow manage to remain as the prince’s familiar face returns and he beams up at you. his wings encircle you as you make a crash landing into the clearing. the pair of you roll and tumble out onto the illuminated grass below you, taehyung’s wings protecting you and softening your fall. you manage to uncurl in his grip, landing beneath him as his palms flatten out by your head to stop himself from crushing you. 

“hi...” you pant, looking up at the dragon prince with glittering eyes. your hand reaches up to touch at taehyung’s soft face, his eyes still golden glowing irises and his curled hair now a faded black. he’s beautiful, he always has been but in this moment, you feel like you have finally see him. you can finally see that you love him.

taehyung looks down at you through hooded eyes, moving to run a thumb over your pinkish bottom lip, his breath uneven from the flight. “hello, my queen.” he says simply, face nearing yours. you feel your lashes against your cheeks as your eyes flutter shut, taehyung nosing your cheeks until his soft lips reach your own. hands in your hair, the prince tilts his head and kisses you. his lips mould perfectly against yours and you can feel your heartbeat wildly in your chest as your arms wrap around his neck and fingers curl in his wavy locks. taehyung kisses you like you’re his, and only his and all you want is to feel is him.

taehyung’s hands use a tentative touch as they slide down to your sides, slipping under your petticoat to smooth over your bare skin. you gasp as his lips venture out into the junction at your neck, curling your fingers in his hair as his hands push further and further up your clothes. he roams your skin like foreign terrain— fingers dipping at peaks and the curve of your body.  “taehyung...” you whimper breathlessly, pushing your head back into the lush grass below. 

the dragon freezes at the sound passing from your lips, moving to pull away. “are you hurt? did i hurt you?” taehyung asks worriedly, honey  eyes boring into your soul. you sit up, confused as you shake your head no, wondering if your eagerness to kiss him has driven him away. “i’ve never...i haven’t done this before...” the ravenette adds, gesturing between you both. never done...what? 

oh...

“been with a women before?” you ask gently, sitting up and leaning your chin on taehyung’s shoulder. you tilt your gaze towards him, smiling softly and move to cup his cheek. “i have never...been with a man either...you would be my first.” you whisper shyly, you had little time for courting as a princess, your royal duties taking up much of your time. but here you were, curled up with taehyung on possibly the most beautiful place on earth, feeling more ready than you had ever been.

“let me have you, if you will?” the prince asks lowly, warm breath fanning over your lips.

“you have me, all of me...” 

that was all it took for taehyung to crash his lips against yours once more, this time his tongue tracing over the seam of your own as he pleads for entrance to your mouth. you happily oblige, welcoming his warm tongue with your own in a battle for dominance, dancing together while his large hands pulled at your under clothes. you arched your back, letting him tug the tule garment off of you and spreading your thighs as he nudged them apart. 

“you’re so beautiful,” taehyung murmurs, pulling back from the kiss to admire you. his amber irises darkened to a dark gold as he drunk in your naked body, leaning down to ghost his lips over your neck. “i want to mark you...” he added, biting down on your supple flesh and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. “fuck you, breed you. would you like that princess?” he growls. 

you arch your back as his hands come to cup your breast, squeezing them between slender fingers whilst he works a trail of purples down to your chest. “god, please...taehyung!” 

chuckling deeply, using his  dragon abilities, the prince blows a gust of hot air over your left nipple once his mouth reaches its destination. his snake like tongue pokes out to lick a stripe over the perky bud before he takes your breast into his mouth harshly, biting down and letting his primal instincts take over. even if he was a virgin, being a dragon, taehyung was genetically programmed to please during breeding seasons. he knew what he was doing, especially when you moaned aloud. 

a hand slips down your sides and into your panties, circling over your clit to spread your wetness as it glistened under the moonlight. “you’re soaking, my princess,” taehyung hums, still squeezing your breast as he sucked your nectar off of his fingers. “may i taste you?” 

“yes, please...” you gasp.

taehyung raises an unimpressed brow, pinching your nipple causing you to whine. “please what?”

eyes rolling, you moan out the only title you can think of, hoping it will urge the dragon on. “please...my king.”  

the prince with obsidian hair curses under his breath, making quick work of tearing off your panties and shuffling onto his belly on the grass so that he nears your entrance. taehyung spreads your lower lips widely, chuckling at the juices that flow from your flower. “so pretty, petal.” he says, watching you writhe under the night air before locking eyes with you through his curled locks. the air that hits your pulsing heat, is cool but taehyung’s breath is hothothot. his lush lips suckle on your clit before his burning tongue swipes over the length of your pussy, heated from his dragon’s core. taehyung sweeps at any of your sweet nectar that gushes from your hole, humming in content before pushing his tongue past your entrance making you cry from pleasure and curl your fingers in his hair. 

“look at you, absolutely dripping just for your king,” taehyung growls against your burning cunt, the vibrations sending your eyes rolling back in your head. desire burns brightly in the pits of your stomach, as you start to rut your hips into his face, the prince having neglected your wetness in favour of whispering foul words into your thighs. taehyung flicks at your swollen clit, making your legs wobble and threaten to close around his head. not that you would mind the view. “such beautiful sight, baby.” 

he dove his tongue into your tight hole, as arousal fogged your senses and his instincts to your body heightened. the world between your sweet thighs was slick, tasting of the most luxurious of treats to taehyung and he could tell he was becoming addicted to you. a finger slipped past your entrance, along with his tongue, thrusting inside of you and catching on the walls of your pussy. you wriggled against the grass, spread out in the open nature whilst taehyung claimed you with his tongue. “m close, m close!” you squealed when taehyung added another finger, fearing that your high was coming to soon. the prince was giving you pleasure that you had never felt before, that couldn’t be achieved with your own hand or imagination. you weren’t sure that you wanted it to end.

nimble fingers gripped at taehyung’s mop of sooty hair as he lapped faster and faster at your sensitive bud, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter until suddenly...it snapped. “cum for me, princess, reward your king.” 

white flashes behind your eyes as your release crashes over you, signs of your arousal painting taehyung’s chin and face. he licks over his bottom lip, chest rumbling at the taste of you before he moves between your thighs to and up to your face. he kisses you sweetly, once...twice... allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before deepening the kiss. the pair of you become a pile of limbs, entangled in the grass as teeth and tongue clash together. your hands wind down the path way of the prince’s body, stopping above his belt loop hesitantly. 

taehyung forces himself to pull away from your onslaught of kisses, pressing his forehead to yours— eyes closing with a pant falling from his lips. “you don’t have to...” he mumbles, lips ghosting over yours while he noses your cheek.

 taehyung’s hair brushes softly over your forehand, his eyes tightly shut away from the world as if, when he sees you again, he won’t be able to control himself. you stare up at him, taking in his every mole and freckle that dots his face. you trust him. “i want to, please— let me, my liege.” you insisted, a neediness sparking in your eyes.

“fuck...the things you do to me, princess,” hisses hotly, his cock twitching in his briefs as you rolled him over. the dragon prince quickly stood, helping position you comfortably on your knees before letting his hands fly to the buckle of his breeches. watching him closely, you felt your mouth water in anticipation— you’d never in your life seen a man in full glory before, let alone a mythical creature such as taehyung. you suspected him to be girthy, but your expectations were exceed as he proceeded to roll down his breeches and undergarments in one. 

taehyung’s cock was not only thick and girthy, but lengthy as well, so big that for a brief second, you were unsure that your own two hands would fit around it, let alone your mouth. your jaw dropped in awe as your eyes observe him. “well...uh, there’s something about us dragon’s that.... that perhaps i failed to mention-“ taehyung but his lip with nervousness, his confident and dominant aura suddenly wavering. 

“you have two heads-“ you blurt out, gaze trained on the second head of his forked member. “there’s two!” 

the prince blushes, running a hand through his curled hair and swallowing thickly. “for mating purposes, it increases the success of a female carrying...” taehyung pauses is breathe explanation, frowning deeply as you touch curiously at his cock. “—carrying offspring, princess.” 

the pet name comes out as some what of a warning, making you smile sheepishly at the man above you. “it’s got spines, taehyung...you cant expect me not to touch you!” you defend yourself,  watching him closely. “it’s hot too.” 

“for pleasure purposes, dragons are also naturally hot.” 

“do you think it will fit? i’ve not been with a man before i-“

seemingly sensing the nerves that stir in your stomach, taehyung leans down to grip your chin and tilts your head upwards to catch your eye. “i’ve got you, petal,” he whispers and presses a light chaste kiss to your lips. “do you trust me?” 

“yes, more than anything.” you breathe, settling back onto your knees as taehyung guides your mouth towards his pulsing cock. your eyes trail up his body as he tugs off his shirt from above you, his skin is glazed with a layer of sweat and desire pours through your system like the molten lava that intertwines with his dragon blood. you imagine that he tastes sweet, like the finest wines of the Ubeozia dynasties. 

leaning forward you shakily take taehyung’s tips past your lips, sucking on it hesitantly while he starts to groan. the dragon sucks in a breath from the night air as you take him further into your mouth, looking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “you’re doing so well, my darling  princess, so good for me.” he sighs.

his cock his hot against your tongue, forming tingling sensation at your lips while you work on bobbing your head. curses fall out from underneath taehyung’s breathy moans whilst his eyes flash golden like Apollo’s sun. his large hands thread between your loosened locks as they tickle at your exposed shoulders, encouraging you to give him more. 

your hands sit small on the base of his girth, fisting at what you cannot fit making a wetness pool between the apex of your thighs as you think about being stuffed full of him. taehyung lets out a small moan, closing his eyes and throwing his head back to face the stars as he shallowly thrusts his length into your welcoming mouth. your tongue works circles around his cock making taehyung’s fingers curl in your hair, massaging your scalp as he gently pushes your hot mouth further down on his pulsing, red hot cock. 

he hisses and grunts when you’re tongue glides over his slit, abdomen clenching as he feels himself fall into his high. you gasp as the dragon paints your tongue with a smokey release, his cum is a foreign feel against your tongue but brings you satisfaction as he quivers through the after shocks of his orgasm. softly, you let go of his member, sliding your tongue over your bottom lip to capture the rest of his cum— keeping your eyes trained on him. 

“how does it taste?” taehyung asks darkly, sinking into his knees to cup your face.

you hum for a moment, parting your lips gently as his thumb brushes over them. “salty, no...ashy.” you conclude, breathing lightly. taehyung quirks a brow, leaning forward to press a searing kiss to your lips, his tongue swipes over your bottom one as he gradually pushes you back into the lush grass, positioning himself between your legs.

“that’s because our release is fuelled by the fires that burn in our hearts,” the prince explains, pulling away from your lips to whisper in your ear. now that you’ve tasted me, it’s time i mark your beautiful little cunt.” 

you gasp as the tips of his thick cock brush as your entrance, instinctively locking your thighs around his hips. your chest rises and falls with the anticipation of having taehyung, the man you love, claim you. you’re in love, you love taehyung with all your heart and now he was to make you his. sighs of adoration fill the air between you as taehyung slowly pushes into your virgin hole, of course, having more than one tip would make it hurt, but only just— making your nails dig into the skin at taehyung’s shoulder. 

he stops is movements, the prince knows that it will be difficult for your tiny human body to handle his stamina and size, after all, you had already cum once and were nearing exhaustion. “i’m sorry, my petal...my queen, i know it hurts,” he cooes, nosing at your neck to ease the pain. one hand curls in taehyung’s thick locks as he fully enters you with one tip of his cock, the second slowly slipping past the lips of your cunt. the dragon prince drops a hand to your clit, slowly rubbing in circles until the pleasure overrides the sting where you bleed. “you’re doing so well for me, taking all of my cock like the good queen you are.” 

taehyung waits for you to adjust as he continues to lazily flick at your bud, while you slowly start to open up for him like the roses at his mother’s place. “please...move taehyungie...move!” you mewl, throwing your head back into the soft grass as pleasure begins to overwhelm your senses.

the prince smiles down at you, taking in the the twisted look of delight against your delicate features and the curve of your breast as you arch your back. taehyung bottoms out inside of you, gently thrusting his length within your tight, dripping walls and closes his eyes at the sound of your sweet moans. you feel like you were made just for him, for him only and when he opens his eyes, he can’t help but lean down and claim your mouth, slipping his tongue past the barriers of your lips when you part them. 

“look at you, princess, so tight for me— your king,” he praises tenderly against your hips, dropping his face to your neck as you tighten around him involuntarily. “you’re mine, made for me and my cock. you got that princess?” 

“yours, yours my king.” you pant, fingertips dancing across the expanse of your lover’s freckled back.

taehyung deepens his thrusts, the spines on his cock catching against your slick walls as he reaches deeper inside of you. he sucks a little of bruises into your neck, purples, pinks and burgundies painting a picture of his love for you while he works their. your hips lift to match his thrusts, sucking him in as you both move together under the moonlight. the sounds of love filled moans and groans fills the cool air of the forest, long forgotten as taehyung pounds into you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. his grunts send shivers down your spine, making you arch your back into him. taehyung pushes your hips down, pushing his member into your sweet spot causing more of your juicies to gush down your wobbling thighs. 

you bite your lip in an attempt to silence your cries, an unexplainable wave of pleasure coursing through your veins as taehyung yanks your hips down to his. “s’good…please don’ stop,” you slur pathetically into the night, a sheen of sweat dousing your skin, the sound of your desperation making the head’s taehyung’s length twitch inside of you. he wasn’t sure how long he would last, with the way your virgin cunt clamped down on him like a vice. the tightness was almost unbearable, each thrust bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “need you, need you m-my king!” 

taehyung’s mop of hair drops to your collar bones as he bites on them to silence his growls of possession. “fuck me, princess, fuck,” he slurs, his cock swelling as if he’s about to burst. the first head of his member stimulating that special spot, while the other fills your needy hole. “wonder what your courts would say if they saw you like this, princess,” taehyung pants into your neck, one hand sliding between your bodies to stimulate your clit while the other grips your breast, as he leans against you, pressing his hips into yours. “saw their queen spread out for the dragon king so desperate and needy for his dragon cock...fuck baby, what would they say?” 

“t-they’d be ... ashamed!” you squeal, arching your back and lifting your hips to meet taehyung’s thrusts. 

he smirks, fucking into you harder, until you’re full to the brim and you can feel him deep in your womb. “but i wouldn’t be, m’ so proud of my princess for taking me like this...” taehyung pants, looking deep into your eyes, sweaty hair falling over his own amber irises. “cum with me, my love.” 

you grab and pull at taehyung, touching at skin hair and lips as your release starts to creep up on you. the pace of taehyung’s hips never slow but start to become sloppy as your senses become overwhelmed with him. the tips of his cock brush at your spot once more, making you scream with pleasure as the damn finally bursts and you cream on his member, painting him with your release as the first spirts of his cum fill your hole. “taehyung, tae..please,” you cry, soft tears springing in your eyes as he locks his gaze on yours, hips slowing to a grind as he pumps his thick, hot seed inside of you. there’s so much, never ending as his release gathers within your cunt, searingly hot as lewd sounds of your wetness’ mixing fills the air. “i love you...”

your words are barely above a whisper, tears of warmth and happiness spilling from your eyes as taehyung cups your cheeks and swoops down to kiss you lovingly. “i love you so much, more than anything.” he responds, never ending his onslaught of kisses. 

taehyung doesn’t soften inside you, making another wave of neediness wash over your body. he loved you, he loved you just as you did with him. the kisses become sweeter and sweeter, like the finest honey against your tongue and you smile against taehyung’s lips as he lifts you into his arms. “you love me.” it’s more of a statement than a question, but taehyung answers regardless, brushing strands of hair away from your face.

“i will always love you, beyond my dying breath.” 

the dragon scoops you up, carrying you to a nearby tree and leaning back against it, refusing to put you down despite your giggles and protests. you notice, from over his shoulder that moon lillies grow in place of the spot you made love in. “what’s that?” you ask quietly, as taehyung sits, turning you around gently in his lap and barely lifting you from his cock. 

he watches darkly as only small traces of his charcoal black cum seep from your cunt before he follows your gaze to the flowers. “those, moon lillies appear when a dragon has found his or her mate, in place of where they have mates for the first time.” he mumbles shyly, hiding his face in your neck and kissing the back of your shoulder. 

“let’s... let’s make more,” you whisper and admire the flowers that act as a symbol of your love. although your thighs still shake from your last two releases, you pull your hips forward and drag them back against taehyung’s lap, twitching around his length from the overstimulation. your turn your head to face the dragon prince from over your shoulder, watching as his chest heaves with pleasure. “make love to me, dragon king. make love to your queen.” 

taehyung’s hips twitch at your words, the ghost of his fingertips settling on your hips  before gripping them harshly, helping to move you back and forth against his cock. “as you wish my queen,” he mumbles, starting to move his own hips in time with yours. “you’re going to be the death of me, love.” 

taehyung bites down harshly on your shoulder as you begin to mewl, lifting yourself off of your cock and slamming your hips back down. the spines on taehyung’s cock stimulate your spasming, cum soaked walls, catching on each ridge and causing you to shiver. the forest is once more filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin, and a mixture of lost words and moans and ‘i love you’s. you are lost with taehyung, in a world of your own as he claims your cunt over and over again with each thrust. 

you circle your hips, clenching around the thick cock that stretches you open and gasp when one of taehyung’s heads slip out from your tight core. biting your lip, you take a finger and coat it in the remainder of your last orgasms and smear it against taehyung’s tip, thumbing it hardly. the prince groans, hips stuttering as he lets out a loud moan, thrusting into you at a faster pace and circling himself inside of you. “princess, please...fuck me.” 

“forever, my sweet.” you whisper, slapping the head against your cock before pushing it back into your entrance. you rock yourself back and forth, tears of pleasure stinging the corners of your eyes as your sensitive pussy pulses with want. you know, you will not last as long as the previous rounds, indicated by your throbbing clit and collapse forward against taehyung’s legs. the dragon takes this as an opportunity to slap his palm against your bare ass, watching the flesh jiggle at the contact. 

you squeal at the spank, sinking your fingers into the grass as taehyung repeats his ministrations on each of your cheeks. his cock swells with every desperate moan that passes from your lips, stretching your tight cunt open to accommodate for his cum. he wants to breed you, fuck you full of all of his dragon seed and watch your stomach swell at the heavy load. he wants you to have his children. with new found motivation and his orgasm closing in on him, taehyung grabs your hips and forces them down against his cock, slamming into you every time you come down against him. your abused hole drips with newfound wetness and remainders of taehyung’s hot seed as he pushes it further inside of you. 

the pace is wild, and heat flares up between you both as your bodies move together completely uncontrolled. “m gonna cum again...” you gasp as you feel taehyung pound repeatedly into your g-spot. “please, please fill me up.” 

“gonna cum with you princess, gonna breed you with my dragon pups,” taehyung practically whimpers, mumbling an i love you into the air. “gonna fill you up and fuck my cum deep inside you.” he rambles now as his thrusts become erratic. having his length nuzzled inside of you is what pushes taehyung over the edge, beating the feeling of endless hours of pleasuring himself during breeding seasons. he had never held or touched a woman in the way that he did with you. you were his first, and that was what made his heads fill you once more with a heavy load of his seed, shooting further into your cunt as you cream against him once more, pushing your hips down while his cum smears against your clit. “

“taehyungie!” 

you collapse against the grass, panting shakily as taehyung pulls you into his arms again, turning to lay on his side as he pulls you into his chest. he doesn’t remove himself from your body, keeping himself inside you as more of the glowing blue flowers begin to bloom around you. taehyung’s hand settles on your belly as his arms wrap around your waist, rubbing it in circles while he kisses your hair. everything is perfect, just as it is meant to be. you’re in love with the man you had dared yourself to kill, but could now only find it in you to lay with him under the stars. 

“i love you taehyung,” you say for the millionth time that night, drawing patterns into the hand that rests on your stomach. “i won’t ever love anyone else. i am yours and you are mine.” 

“we are one, YN.” taehyung adds, sweetly, holding you closer as you feel yourself start to drift into a sweet slumber. “and i will love you forever.” 

forever. 

you smile at the word, placing his hand over his as you finally fall into sleep. you stay with taehyung, in forest for a night or two, loving each other under the moon.

“and you will see to it that the dragon is captured and killed, immediately?” 

jungkook hesitates, a pause in the air at the prince’s request. when namjoon and the king had asked the young advisor to follow his queen out into the woods, he had never expected to see what he did. the nights where you would disappear for hours on end, coming home with scorch marks and ruffled hair all seemed to make sense now. you were with the dragon prince, the one who’s heart you had promised to capture. except, only you could not do it, you had been soft in the heart. a trait that lay with your deceased mother. 

jungkook had seen you take round after round of the dragon’s cock, wishing that he could be in place of the beastly creature. he hated how that thing claimed you like he had been trying to for years, he despised how he fisted himself to orgasm behind the trees as he watched you cum for the dragon, moan for the dragon, love for the dragon. jungkook hated himself for betraying you due to his own jealousy, he wanted to see the dragon pay for what it had done to his queen, his love. and although, the advisor was unsure of what namjoon planned to do with the information, jungkook knew the least he could do was set you back on the right path. 

he had already owed you this debt, in where he failed to warn you about namjoon. perhaps, he would make it up to you by freeing you from the dragon’s grip. 

“jungkook...”

“yes my liege, we will send our best troops to their location and have him captured within the next week or so...” the boy explains, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles nervously. why does guilt rein free in his mind? he was doing what was best for you. 

prince namjoon nods proudly, nodding his head and standing from his seat to leave the dining room. the prince had moved into the palace due to your absence over the last three days, presumably to take over rule as your father was too sick to do so. namjoon was brought in to have you wed before your father’s passing but the courts knew you were more than capable of doing so on your own. 

they just hated to see a women in power.

“you are dismissed, jungkook.” 

the young advisor nods his head gratefully, running a hand through his wavy locks and massaging his scalp to calm his guilt ridden mind. “what the fuck, jeon?” he mumbles to himself, starting walk back his quarters. he needed to be a lone, he needed time to convince himself that what he had done was right. jungkook could pretend that everything would be fine and maybe it would be. 

he paces down the twisting and winding halls of the castle, chest squeezing as he begins to feel trapped within the walls and lies. jungkook doesn’t even hear the call of his name. 

“jeongguk!” tamarae gasps, catching up to the young advisor. the boy freezes, the princess much resembled the queen before YN, her features her sloping and graceful and you could see shift in her eye colour of the light hit them just right. everyone had been in awe of tamarae since she was born, but she was no YN. he looks down at the girl, just a year younger than jungkook himself, and parts his lips to speak. they were aquatinted well, but never spoke more than a passing hello when YN was around. 

but he never gets a chance to speak. 

the princess’ hand falls sharply against his cheek, the connection is enough to send his head to the side. it is now, for the first time, that jungkook really looks at the young princess. her snow white hair is dishevelled and slightly out of place, dark eye bags beneath her usually glowing eyes and her skin has paled significantly. “how dare you?” tamarae seethes, stepping closer to jungkook and pointing a finger in his face. he flops guiltily, his actions coming to haunt him. “how dare you, give my sister’s location to that treacherous prince?”

“i’m doing what is in the best interest of our queen.” 

tamarae opens her mouth in shock, casting a glance up and down jungkook’s frame before taking a breath to calm herself. “what would you know about her best interests?” she begins, now poking a thumb into the firm of the advisor’s chest. “she is happy there, out in the woods in her clearing. he makes her happy.” a breath, “— but you’re so foolishly and selfishly in love with her, you would do anything to make her love you back. well, jeon jungkook...now she will never.” 

“tamarae, i—“

“and you slept with me, i let you wrestle me to bed in your quarters and make a woman of me,”  the princess starts to feel tears form in her eyes, breath becoming shaky and anger rising within her chest. “just so...so you could find where she is. i didn’t tell you, for you to hurt her. i told you because you’re her best friend...” 

jungkook is left, trembling with guilt as the princess turns away and heads back in the direction she came. 

he was desperately in love with you, but was too blind to see the love he was given too.

the feeling beneath taehyung’s skin is nothing like he has ever felt before. it’s a bristling pain that jabs at his flesh, pinches at his every fibre and burning away at his heart. 

it hurts, it pains him and he doesn’t know why. 

the servants strip him of his shirt, sweat licking his honey dipped abs as they douse him with cold spurts of water but nothing helps and the pain doesn’t cease. one places a stick between his teeth for him to clamp down on as they rub at his skin, trying to massage the pain away. instead the supposed, soothing feeling is replaced by a thousand small stabs to his flesh, almost to the point where tears pool in his ocean eyes. 

the double doors to his bedroom open suddenly, Queen elantris making an entrance as maids and servants alike withdraw from the heaving prince. his stares over at his mother as she dismisses all other personnel in the room, dropping his head back into his tangled sheets while he pants, eyes falling shut. 

“mother...”

“shh, my boy, you are in a lot of pain,” elantris hums quietly, brushing her son’s curled charcoal locks from his paling face.  the prince whines like a young dragon pup, the hurt becoming too much to bare. elantris looks down at her child, seizing the moment to rub a cooling herb mix against his chest, despite the growls and roars that emit from taehyung’s lips. she coos at him gently, once she’s done, whispering sweet words into his hair as he shivers in a cold sweat. the dragon queen had seen this once before, never as severe. her child was sick with a deep poison, known as love. 

“what’s happening to me?”

the tone of fear rings in taehyung’s voice as he roars, scales reappearing across his skin and eyes darkening into their golden state. his mother leans down and noses taehyung’s cheek, trying to ease him through the pain and coaches him through it despite the groans he lets out.

“you’ve imprinted, my love,” elantris whispers, linking their hands. “you’re in love, taehyung, with that human girl.” 

the boy gasps through his pain, feeling like a pup being caught stealing from the kitchen like when he was young. taehyung had known that he had always felt strongly towards you, felt strongly for the way your eyes sparkled under the moon and the way your smile shone brightly whenever the dragon had a new trick to show you. taehyung had known, all along, that he was in love with you. “how, how did you know?”

“i could smell her on you, taehyung,” elantris chuckles and releases her child’s hand, helping him to sit. “i may be old but i am not a fool. you have learned to forgive, unlike those of our ancestors. you must go to her, the girl and the closer you are to her, the less pain you will be in.” she hums. “you just go to her.” 

the prince stretches his limbs, a cool slick sliding over his skin. “i will, i love her.” 

the clearing.

when you thought of the clearing, you thought of happiness and love. your love, with taehyung that bloomed solely under the night of the stars but another that grew strongly inside of you. the news you had for taehyung sent a series of fire works bursting in your chest, coursing through your veins— this could be it, could be what could end all the suffering and consequences, letting yourself and your prince be together. 

the familiar sent of sweet moon lily fills your nostrils, easing your nerves as you approach the clearing, your love. the sky is clear above your head, milky pink like the roses your mother used to weave into your hair. you like to believe, that she would be excited for you, looking down at you from the constellations above with joy.  this was not always your plan, but you would not let this get in your way of becoming queen. 

you take care with your steps, unlike times before this, wearing your traditional warrior fit makes the journey easier.  you want to be careful and prevent any harm to what is to come — but suddenly, the air around you feels different, thick with smoke and heavy with  an eerie vibe. something is off, something is wrong. 

peeking through the leaves you spot several men, heavily armed with swords and arrows, in a uniform you do not recognise. upon closer inspection— you notice the emblem on the crest of a soldier from your kingdom . these are your people, men from your army. 

in your clearing. 

rushing forward, you burst from the trees and slap a hand over your mouth at the site. the dragon prince, fully shifted into his beautiful dragon transformation is hooked to the ground with thick metal chains that rub at his skin. taehyung roars, in pain, in fear, you cannot tell and panic begins to rise in your chest, clawing at your throat and tearing at your insides. 

they had found him.

the beast sniffs the air once, twice, the bones in his back cracking as he fights to stand—pulling the men that held him back, off of the ground. yellowed eyes tilt towards you, barely hidden in your precious spot as the prince tries to rip free and expose you. he could sense your presence, your emotions and desperately needed to be with you, he needed you to know about the imprint. 

but before taehyung can reach you, a guard calls and has you on your knees in a second, many others spearing your lover to get him under control. tears sting in your eyes as the first drops of his blood hit the pure grass beneath your knees, where you had made love for the first time, where you were supposed to be safe. 

“taehyung!” you scream, attempting to rip yourself away from the men, your men... that hold you down. it’s almost as if you can feel every pierce of taehyung’s flesh as he roars out for you. yanking your arm free, you attempt to stand, but your pathway is blocked by a pair of black boots and a talk slender figure.  your wobbling lip turns to a sneer, gaze darkening as you look to him. “you...”

namjoon smirks, kneeling down to your height as your own men hold you down. “hello, my queen,” he hums, eyeing your sweat streaked face and angry expression. the man lifts your chin with his forefinger, tilting your head to look up at you. taehyung’s chest rumbles possessively as the latter male’s hands slip to clip your jaw tightly. “you seem to be right on time, love. you’re about to witness the true harvesting of a dragon heart.” 

a flare of outrage ignites in your chest as you lunge forward, biting at namjoon’s finger so hard that you draw blood, while vexed tears cloud your vision. the pink haired prince pulls back, holding his hand tightly in pain. “unhand me.” you breathe heavily, staring up at the men beside you, holding you down and betraying you. “unhand me by order of your princess.” you muster up a stern expression, although your lip wobbles and your eyes water as the pain of your lover courses through your veins. you had not known it was possible to feel so connected, so in tune with someone before. but you understood now, that this was love. love was not your mother and father arguing during nights, where hoseok would cover yourself and your sister’s ears, love was not tolerating and suppressing your bitter hatred for your father. love was not war. love was taehyung. 

the men look to namjoon for guidance as you thrash within their grip, he simply shakes out his wounded hand and stalking towards you, before landing a harsh slap across your face. your head whips to the side, your chest heaving in shock while your lover growls in the distance.  

“i’m afraid they cannot do that your highness,” namjoon spits, pushing you down into the soil. you clutch at your stomach protectively, glowering at the prince. “you father has handed all authority over to me, after your absence for the last two nights. the court has ruled you, unfit to rule until we marry.” 

the prince then turns to the dragon, signalling for his minions to tighten the chains around taehyung. “and he shall be executed in consequence of your action. for imprinting on our queen, like the filthy creature he is.” 

it feels like your world is collapsing, and you are falling underneath the surface. but you cannot give in, you cannot give namjoon the satisfaction of your favour without a fight. you cannot lose taehyung. you close your eyes and swallow thickly, remembering what your mother had instilled in you. every battle has a way to be won. 

“unhand me,” you repeat, steadying your breath. “and i will go with you willingly.” namjoon only chuckles deeply, shaking his head so you take action. ripping yourself from the men behind you, you kick your leg out and take the men down by swipe their feet out from underneath them. elbowing a soldier in the nose and snatching your sword from its sheath, burying it in the chests of two traitors. rolling your shoulders back, you kick down two more men and stay light on your toes. 

you aim for the prince next. 

taking a running sprint, you thrust your sword towards him, barely slicing his cheek as you pant heavily. “release the dragon, and i will spare you,” you seethe through gritted teeth, watching your wounded lover from over namjoon’s shoulder. “don’t be a foolish man, my prince.” you mock, venomously.

“i see that carrying a child has softened your mindset, princess YN,” namjoon comments softly, pushing the blade away from his throat. how could he know? who could have told him? your confident demeanour falters slightly, but you do not allow yourself to slip, holding up your blade again. “the castle maids talk, you show early signs. disgraceful, how you are willing to bare the child of the beast that killed your mother—“ the prince remains cool and collected whilst your resolve starts to crumble, he wins. taehyung wails for you in the background, weakening as you begin to shake. “you will marry me, tomorrow at sunset if you wish for child to be speared. i feel no remorse for ending two lives tonight.” 

the world around you begins to spin lightly, taehyung calling for you to stay strong. namjoon had won, he had you exactly where he wanted you, and there was nothing more you could do. “very well,” you whisper, dropping your gaze along with your mothers sword. “we shall be wed.”

you had never been to a wedding, if you had, you may have been too young to remember. sometimes, if you were lucky enough to hear, your mother would tell you of her own, her white dress and wolf furs, her pearl crown imported from across the sea. when she explained to you, brushing your hair and tying it neatly before bed, she had never smiled, never grinned at the thought of a royal feast. her face had always been void. 

you now, realise why. 

today you would marry, to a man you bared no feelings for. today you would marry out of duty and out of the love you had for someone else. you realise, being older and less naive, that your mother, the queen— married your father as a debt to her kingdom. 

“you look beautiful, YN...” your sister offered, taking over for the maid in weaving flowers into your hair. orchids. the national flower of namjoon’s kingdom. the smell was too sweet, sickly to the point where you felt you would heave. they were everywhere, in your hair and your bouquet, in gifts given by royals from other kingdoms— you hated it. a constant reminder of what you had to lose. tamarae notes your silence, stopping her hands that move to fix hair that has already been tucked into place. “please, say something...”

you blink twice in response, parting your lips as if the words will come on their own — but you’re hollow inside, a ghost of who you once were. there were no more tears to cry, or screams to let out. all of those had passed in the cold night, when your sister held you as you cried because your child would grow without the father they needed. because you were going to lose your love. tamarae sinks to her knees before you, creasing the sweet powder blue dress that she wore. her hand take yours, squeezing it gently as if to remind you that you’re still a person, you still feel. 

“you don’t have to do this,” she whispers hoarsely, white hair falling over her face to shield her from the world. her bottom lip trembles as tears slip down her cheeks— she had lost her mother, her brother and now her sister. what more could she lose? “you don’t have to...”

for the first time in hours, you make a movement...your face twitches into a sad smile as you cup your sister’s cheeks and hold her close. tamarae’s face finds the tule of your wedding dress, trying her best not to stain the expensive fabric imported from namjoon’s kingdom, not that you cared much for it. “i have to, for you and for the people. our people. they have lost faith in me, and they need me—“ you swallow sharply, no more tears. “they need me to show them i care for our people, i care for this war...”

“i don’t want to lose you...”

“you won’t.”

the door bursts open, yourself and your sister jumping apart at the sudden entrance. jungkook inhales deeply, eyes flickering between the two princesses before tamarae scoffs and parts ways with you but not before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

she shoves past the boy, maids flurrying after her, leaving yourself and the advisor alone. he is the first to speak. “YN, my queen, you’re stunning-“ 

“no,” you interject, looking up at your old friend, coldly. “don’t speak. you don’t get to speak today or i’ll have you executed for treason.” you punctuate your every word, begging yourself to keep it together because if you cry now, jungkook will be the only one to comfort you. your best friend, the man who betrayed you, silences himself, before it’s too late. “you don’t get to say a word, not after what you did to me. not after betraying my trust.” 

“YN, i-“ 

“please,” you hiccup this time, the air in your lungs being sucked away from you with every passing second. jungkook is here to walk you down the isle, towards the man that will only abuse his power of you and your people. jungkook is the reason you are walking this path. “please don’t say anymore. have you not said enough? given away my secrets, out of love you say?” jungkook falters, every fibre in his being screaming out at him to comfort you, but his love for you did this, he destroyed the strong girl he once knew. “then your love is truly misplaced- i have loved you, jeongguk...but only ever as a friend. you used that against my sister, which i truly cannot forgive. so please do not say anymore than you must, for your words only ever hurt us.” 

jungkook bites his lip and nods, offering his arm to you to lead you down to the ceremony. he watches you with sad eyes, but a kind smile, sighing heavily when you return his with a watery one. 

if he had not loved you, this would not have happened. if he had not loved you, he would still have his friend.

the sun is coloured a shade of honey, ribbons of its light casting a warm hue against your skin. sunsets like this are rare, beautiful and not to be taken for granted— they remind you of sweet days with taehyung, his curled hair buried in your neck and his soft giggle filling the air. sunsets reminded you of your love for taehyung.

you watch the sun dip it’s toes into the navy blue of the water, just behind the prince’s head at the end of the isle. namjoon had wanted a wedding by the sea, with enough room for all of your people along with visitors from kingdoms far away. he wanted sea air and a fresh breeze, he wanted open waters, clear enough to see the dye of taehyung’s blood when he executed the dragon prince after the ceremony. he wanted it all, and you wanted to escape. your stomach twists and turns, as the orchestra begin to strum a wedding tune. this isle was not a path to happiness, but one to your death. 

to the people of your kingdom, saw you as a beautiful bride but you saw yourself as a ghost of a human being. jungkook holds you by the arm, steadying your steps as he walks you towards your doom, your own funeral. your own father couldn’t even give you away, too drunk to even stand. you scowl at him as you pass his pew, accompanied by your sweet sister. 

if you had it your way, it would be taehyung at the end of the isle, dressed in his kingdom’s traditional fits as he gave you that toothy grin. his eyes would light up as your brother gave you away, and your mother’s light shined on you from above. taehyung would take your hand firmly in his, slip on the ring and tell you how much he loved you. the dress that you wore would be off at the end of the night, as you made love to one another. but now, here you were, reaching the dreaded prince namjoon, as he smirked at you greasily. 

jungkook gave you a tight, apologetic squeeze before handing you over to namjoon, shielding his face once he joined the rest of the crowd. your gaze slowly shifts to namjoon, hating the way he looked at you, when the ground beneath your feet starts to shake and you hear the pained cry of your love. “taehyung...” you whisper, standing on your tip toes to find him. over the shoulder of the prince, you spot the dragon shivering from pain behind the alter. 

he spasms in his chains, wrists red and sore whilst purple bruises litter his tanned honey skin. he whimpers our for you, causing tears to well in your eyes. all you can do is watch helplessly as the dragon steadies his laboured breathing. small tears slip down your cheeks, streaming through the layers of make up that you wore— the pink haired prince lowers his lips to your ear level. “take a good look, my princess, for this will be the last chance you will ever get.” the prince chuckles, pouting at you mockingly. 

with watery eyes, you glance back at the dragon prince, watching as he falls weak at namjoon’s proximity to his imprint. the injuries taehyung sustained over the time had weakened his dragon transformation, the scales that patched his skin were becoming dull as he bled from wounds here and there. the only way for him to heal would be to be near you again. 

sucking in a deep breath, you blink away the oncoming tears and replace them with a bright smile. smile for the people, smile for your family. “of course, my king,” you say with wobbling words. be strong, you chant. 

the ceremony begins with namjoon’s consent, rushing by with your mind focused on your lover. he’s hurting, in pain and all you want to do his hold him, ease him through it all. you cannot focus, sick to the stomach of what is to come, will you live out the same fate as your mother?  bare beautiful children from the seed of a hateful man. will he ruin your kingdom? what your mother had worked hard to build? this couldn’t be your legacy. 

“and do you, princess YN LN of the  Phantis empire, take prince namjoon of the Kevimore kingdom— to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health...as long as you both shall live?” the minister’s words fly over your head, your mouth suddenly feeling dry and the air in your lungs no longer present. 

namjoon leans down to whisper into your ear, warningly. “YN...” 

“i-“ you hesitate, saying yes would mean taehyung would be executed sooner and you couldn’t bare to lose the only love you’ve ever had. namjoon’s arms snake around your waist, pulling you into him, causing taehyung to fall to his knees behind your shoulder, ocean eyes full of tears. he can’t lose his soulmate, not now, not ever. “i’m...”

the words formulate on your lips, the pressure weighing down on your shoulders. 

“stop the wedding!” 

you clutch at your chest, relief flooding through you as the crowd turns their attention to the oncoming voice. an armoured soldier and his men, enter the ceremony eliciting gasps and stares of the congregation, you take the opportunity to slip from namjoon’s slimy grip, while they create a distraction. 

“who do you think you are?” namjoon scowls, stepping forward and pointing an accusing finger at the intruder. “interrupting an officiated ceremony, what authority do you have over a drunken king and his weak daughter?” 

the soldier dismounts from his horse, stepping forward to the middle of the isle and removes his helmet— revealing the similar sloped and heart shaped features of your elder brother. “hoseok,” tamarae calls, stealing the words from your very lips. you watch as your younger sister rushes into his arms, the reunion warming your numbed heart. 

the red heard clutches your sibling close, pressing a kiss to her hair in a protective fashion before glaring daggers into namjoon. if looks could kill the prince would be five miles under. the soldier’s namjoon has under his rein, bend the knee to their rightful prince, giving you time to make a dash for taehyung before he collapses to his side. 

“prince hoseok... what—what are you doing here?”

the man in question raises a brow, ordering his men to take namjoon into custody. “the war is over, with word of my sister’s union with dragon prince-“ hoseok nods his head over to you, smirking as the latter male is brought to his knees in front of the entire court. “— spread across the battle field, man and mythical creature alike have found a way to bring peace,” the eldest sibling makes his way toward the pink haired prince and drawing his sword up to the other’s chin. “and next time...you will think twice before treating my sister, thinking you have power over us all. she is stronger and a much better leader than you will ever be. so stand, take your men and leave before i have your head.” 

namjoon nods vigorously, clearing himself and the ceremony up as you sniff thankfully, turning your attention to the dragon prince. as soon as you hold him in your arms, taehyung collapses, barely breathing as you come into his field of view. his perfect lips are dry and slightly cut, a gash along his brow that will surely scar and purple, burgundy bruises just under his ribs where his wings would be. he looks bad, but your dragon has never looked better. “t-tae...my love, it’s okay..hold on for me, please?” you whisper, brushing his hair back as his eyes flutter open and closed. “please don’t go, don’t leave me now...”

the dragon prince open and closes his mouth, head rolling as you move it into your lap. biting back tears, you brush your curls through his now silver locks, faded from the pain most likely. “don’t leave us, taehyung. don’t you dare.” you add, hoseok ordering servants and men to help give you the medical help that you. you can’t bare to part from your love now, chest heaving with your cries as the dragon slips in and out of consciousness. 

“you’re with a child...” he manages to mumble, gripping your hand tightly as his lips form a slight smile. “i could never leave my soulmate, my imprint behind.” 

your heart lifts, taehyung had told you tales of imprints only once— when his mother and father met, they couldn’t stand to be away from one another... in far too much pain. the story helped you believe in love. an imprint is when a dragon finds their mate, their one true love...and taehyung had found that in you. 

“i love you, taehyung.” 

“and i, love you.” 

you let go of his hand, allowing hoseok’s men to whisk your dragon prince away before going to reunite with your siblings. pulling off your veil, you open your arms to join hoseok and tamarae’s hug, nuzzling into them. “we’ll be okay, right?” your little sister asks, nearing tears.  this would be the first time, the three of you have held each other since hoseok left for war.

“we will be,” your brother promises, kissing your hair sweetly. “we always will be.” 

a year later, you find yourself dressed in another gown. the same fabric as your mother’s from her own coronation, emerald green silk made by those in the village embroiled with crystals from the caves of taehyung’s very own kingdom. your smile shines brightly as your younger sister fixes your hair around the crown you wear, diamond encrusted, silver plated, like the one your mother was. “sister, if you don’t stop moving, you’re going to miss your presentation to the public,” tamarae scolds you, stepping back when she’s finished with her work. “as queen.” 

“queen— that does sound delightful, don’t you think?” you tease, touching at your makeup gently before snaking your lips. tamarae rolls her eyes and pushes your shoulder gently, mumbling something about seeing you out there. over the course of the year, your father had stepped down from his position in the court allowing you to take the lead on your path to queen while you and taehyung reunified the human and magic worlds. after he recovered, you married taehyung in the dead of the night, under the stars in his kingdom, with blessing from his mother and today, you had finally been coronated as queen. 

“incoming!” a voice called, bringing a babbling baby into the room. your smile widened as jimin, the Phoenix and taehyung’s most trusted advisor stepped in, bringing over your daughter of three months. “taehyung is being dressed at the moment, hoseok is doing a cover of the grounds and jungkook,” jimin lists— adjusting cahira, your baby, in your arms. her name meaning, warrior. “he’s setting up things out front on the balcony.” 

“thank you, jimin,” you nod, bouncing your sweet girl before dismissing your husband’s advisor. 

after namjoon was punished for an attempt at overthrow, you managed to salvage your friendship with jungkook, only to the distain of your husband (it took several growling matches and attempts to calm him down before he let your advisor anywhere near you). but nonetheless, you couldn’t help but turn to mush as you watched over your baby, cahira’s eyes were large and bright like yours, taking on the blue colour of taehyung’s. her black hair was curled, with a patch of white from your mother’s side. her nose was most definitely yours, however. taehyung said that from her early months, it was impossible to tell whether she would show traits of a dragon or not, you would have to wait until her first tooth to see. 

but you knew, just by looking at your young princess— she was made to be a queen, just like you and her grandmother before you. 

“i love the way you look at her, like she is all that there is to the world,” your king grins from the doorway, moving over and bending down slightly to play with his daughter’s tiny hands. it truly is a sight to see, a large and mighty beast, cooing at his tiny baby girl. “hi there, cahira...it’s your daddy!” you sweep over your husband, taking in his floppy hair and his tight fitting black blazer that’s spiralled with silver patterns to match your dress. the ash haired dragon preens happily, primal instincts kicking in while he occupies himself with his daughter on your hip, before looking up at you through the curtain of his hair.  “and i must say, i do enjoy the way you look at me as well.” 

shaking your head, you lean down to meet taehyung’s sweet lips, wiping the small smirk off of his face,” a look of adoration, for the people i love most in this world.” you say, standing straight as your lover takes you into his arms, mindful of the giggling baby between you. “i am happy like this, with you.” 

“i am happy with you, completely and utterly in love with you, and my daughter,” taehyung whispers into your hair, kissing it. “we ended the war, and finally received the happy ending that we deserved.”  you stand in the middle of the throne room, just off of the balcony, listening to the chants and calls of your people— both yours and taehyung’s, in the distance. the war had been ended, your love had united the people and your people finally brought together. 

your maids enter the room, opening the doors to the balcony as jungkook comes through to salute you. taehyung separates from you, lacing your fingers together— allowing you to catch glimpse of the wedding rings you both wore. together, for an eternity. 

“ready to face the world, my love?” taehyung asks, taking cahira from your arms and settling her on his hip. “my queen?” 

you stand on your tiptoes, adjusting the matching crown on his head. you thought that you would never rule with a man by your side, and you didn’t need one. but taehyung would never take away from you as a woman, you were his queen and you always would be. you smile brightly, squeezing his palm and nod. “with you, i always will be.” you answer, taking his hand and stepping out towards your future. 

you had once wanted to hold a dragon’s heart, little did you know, he would be holding yours instead. 

⇢ author’s note(s): hi everyone! thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this fic, i think im most proud of this project and so, in the future im thinking of doing some kind of spin off seires/drabble collection, let me know what you guys think? feedback is always appreciated :D

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Books I’ve Read in 2020

AHello! I’m trying to read as many books as I can during the quarantine, here’s what I’ve finished so far:

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong (literary fiction): a son writes a letter about his life to his illiterate mother. Breathtakingly beautiful with it’s way with words this book is lovely and real in the hardest and sweetest ways. The author’s combination of prose and poetry is dazzling and intricate, this book has stuck with me for days afterward. 4.5 out of 5 stars.

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (fantasy): a money-lender gets in trouble after bragging she can turn silver into gold and is kidnapped and ordered to do so by a fey creature. It may be that I am the perfect audience for this type of book, but it’s my favorite thing I’ve read all year. It’s a book that equally takes on the fantastical and real-world with compelling female characters at the center of the whole thing. A wonderful fantasy journey inspired by eastern-European Jewish folklore. 5 out of 5 stars.

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll (horror graphic novel): a series of short horror comics. Absolutely bone-chilling! This was a really fun type of scary story, especially the last one which made my skin absolutely crawl. Deliciously eerie, this was treat to read if not a little too short. 4 out of 5 stars.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender (magical realism): a young girl can taste other people’s emotions in their cooking and begins to understand her family in new ways. This was a weird book, but it has everything you’ve got to love about that combination of the surreal and mundane. It’s sense of character was electrifying and I had fun engaging with this type of off-kilter real world. I was a little frustrated in parts bc of some characters choices, but that too was true to life. 4 out of 5 stars.

Crier’s War by Nina Varela (steampunk fantasy wlw): about a Made automaton heir to a throne and her human hand-maiden that is trying to kill her. This was an easy read with a lot of tension between the two main characters that I liked, but the writing itself was very weak. There was waaay too much exposition in parts and the dialogue had some really hockey lines. I enjoyed the twists and turns in the middle of the book, but the beginning and end didn’t have much movement. 2.5 stars out of 5.

The Huntress by Kate Quinn (historical fiction): honestly, I’m a little disappointed. This book just did not hit my sweet spots, it wasn’t fast-paced enough for me to get immersed in the plot, and the characters weren’t real enough to be wholly invested in them. That said I adored Nina Markova and the Night Witches, so that did help. 3 starts out of 5.

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Kiersten White (horror sci-fi retelling): HAND IN UNLOVABLE HAND. A retelling of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein from the perspective of Victor Frankenstein’s wife and my God! The characters! The plot was well-enough, but the characters took the whole show for being complex and compelling. The main character was breathtakingly layered and I was wholly invested in Elizabeth and her story and the triumph at the end of this story was tangible. 4 out of 5 stars! 

Uprooted by Naomi Novik (fantasy): A story of a young woman who lives in a valley where a girl must go live with a wizard for 10 years. She is certain she won’t be chosen, but ends up having to be “uprooted” herself. I enjoyed most of this book! However, I think I liked “Spinning Silver” a lot more just because the ending of this one somehow lost me. The characters were good and plot compelling, but (SPOILERS) the big battle at the end seemed to drag and didn’t interest me somehow. 3.8 out of 5 stars.

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (fantasy): excellent read! A story of a young woman in Jazz Age Mexico who goes on an adventure with a Mayan death God who is trying to regain his throne. A romp across the country absolutely brimming with likable characters and fairy tale twists. My only complaint would be that most of it felt a little predictable due to the fact we knew where we were going throughout the whole story, However, it was still greatly enjoyable for the heroine herself, Casiopea. 4 out of 5 stars!

Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng (literary): a story of two families in a progressive “planned” community, how their lives intertwine, their secrets, and a central question surrounding motherhood. Deeply empathetic to its characters and introspective, this is an every-day story of people in suburbia that reads like a thriller. I could barely put it down and felt deeply for its characters and situations, 5 out of 5 stars!

Wilder Girls by Rory Power (YA sci-fi suspense): a story of a group of girls at a boarding school on an island affected by the “tox” which alters their bodies in strange ways like giving them scales or an extra spine. This was an eerie, interesting read with a wlw romance! Watch out for the body horror in this one, but it was very gripping and held my interest. Some of the pacing was off in places (like the romance), but had a very creepy atmosphere that did it for me. 3.8 out of 5 stars!

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio (thriller-mystery): A thriller about a group of Shakespeare actors in their last year of college and one of their classmates who turns up dead. I enjoyed the murder mystery part of this novel more than I expected despite the fact I had guessed who had “done it” pretty early on. I really enjoyed the James-Oliver dynamic with its growing homoeroticism, but I didn’t like how the character of Meredith was handled at all. She felt like a one-note aside. I might have given this book four stars, but the ending was EXTREMELY frustrating for me and I did not like the “open-ended” conclusion. 3 out of 5 stars.

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman (literary humor): a weird character-driven comedy about an old grumpy man and a new family that moves in next to him. Warning for themes of suicide. Anyway, I don’t normally indulge in cliches like “I laughed, I cried, I loved one Cat Annoyance.” However, that’s exactly what I did. I laughed out loud, I cried my eyes out (THE CAT’S HEAD WAS IN HIS PALM), I loved this book. It was sweet and compelling and thoroughly immersive. 5 out of 5 stars!

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow (historical fantasy): set in the early 1900s comes a story of a young girl and her experience with “Doors” that lead to different worlds. This book had a lot of great character development and really interesting descriptions, however, I didn’t like it as much as I wanted to. I found it hard to get myself to sit down a read it. There was just something missing with the push to “page-turn,” but it was still a really good book. 3.7 out of 5 stars!

Gideon the 9th by Tamsyn Muir (high fantasy, kinda gay): I AM FILLED WITH EMOTIONS. This was book was definitely a page-turner. I was very confused with it at the beginning, but the characters and their interactions were, forgive the expression, the life blood of the story and kept me wholly invested. The ending has CRUSHED my heart, but damn did I have a good time reading it. 4.5 out of 5 stars!

Harrow the 9th by Tamsyn Muir (sequel to Gideon the 9th): I really enjoyed this book. It was just as strange and twisting as the first book, though I think I enjoyed the first one a bit more since I love Gideon. It was fun ride overall, though the ending was kind of really confusing. So 4 out of 5 stars.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (historical fiction): Overall, I really enjoyed this book! The writing style was personable and grounded in reality. I found myself really liking the main characters and the exploration of the life of a bi main character was really well done I thought. A solid book with drama and glamor to boot. 4.6 out of 5 stars!

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah (historical fiction): A story of two sisters during WWII and their resistance to Nazi occupation. To be honest, this book wasn’t my cup of tea. It was compelling, but also wholly depressing and I felt like gloried in the pain of the two main characters too much. The history was wonderful and realistic, but it didn’t make me feel anything good afterward. It was just dark. 3 out of 5 stars.

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston (mlm romance): I finally finished this after the heaviness of The Nightingale. This is a story of the First Son of the USA falling for the prince of England. And it turned out to be a very fun and light hearted read! Some of it was kinda generic and too political, and it coulda been shorter, but I thought the romance itself made up for it. It just made me feel so sweet and lovely inside. 4 out of 5 stars!

Anxious People by Fredrik Backman (literary humor): I’m searching out heartfelt books and this one ticked off all the marks on my “sweet” list. A lovely book that made me cry more times than I would like to admit. Compassionate beyond belief, funny and heartfelt. I think I enjoyed A Man Called Ove slightly more, but this book was also dear to me and something I hope to reread in the future. 4.2 out of 5 stars!

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel (sci-fi): A post-apocalyptical story about a group of traveling Shakespeare actors and a symphony. Overall, an excellent read that somehow pictures a more realistic or even softer version of the apocalypse. At first, I wasn't happy with the jumping around of the story, but as I progressed I grew fonder and fonder of the interwoven characters and their journey. A very fascinating read about a world that hits a little too close to home. The appreciation of the arts and preserving humanity was somehow very hopeful and I was fully engaged with this story. 5 out of 5 Stars!

Up next: The Hidden Life of Trees by by Peter Wohlleben (nonfiction science), The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin (urban fantasy), The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (fantasy)

[lunaserenade]

Haunted

gif by yours truly, from my last trip to DC. (with special appearance by my friend’s fat head)

Masterlist

Part Ten of the Meet Me at Sunrise Series

Previous Chapter: Sick Day

Next Chapter: Entangled

Author’s Note: @violentcosmicsymphony​ and @briefgalaxycat​ <3

Paring: Marcus Pike x FBI Agent!Reader

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: Light cursing, violence.

Summary: Stormy nights and ghoulish tales

It was a stormy looking night in Washington as you walked hand in hand with Marcus around Capitol Hill. It had been a long day in the office, Christian Laurent's partner Ioan Pearce had been spotted in town recently and you spent the day reaching out to contacts you made while undercover to see what he was up to. What you found made you uneasy, to say he had taken Laurent's arrest badly and quite personally was an understatement. Word was going around that he was looking for whoever snitched on Laurent and his intentions were ruinous.

To get your mind off it Marcus had taken you to a lovely dinner. Afterwards you insisted on walking around the historic city, he loved seeing you completely in your element sharing the history of the city you adored.

“So apparently it's spotted down in the basement of the Capitol Building. Stories say it shows up before elections and tragedies, some guards have said that it showed up the night before Kennedy and Lincoln's assassinations.”

“... a demon cat.” Marcus said, bemused.

“A demon cat.” You said with a nod. “But to be fair... back then the Capitol Police were notoriously unqualified and liked to drink on patrol.”

“So drunk cops saw a black cat, it spooked them, and thus had to be a ghost?” Marcus laughed.

“Exactly.” You said with a grin “During the Civil War they used the Capitol Building as a hospital for Union soldiers. The ghosts of the soldiers wander the halls to this day. John Quincy Adams appears occasionally too.”

“You love all of this don't you?” Marcus said taking your linked hands and pulling you into his arms.

“I'm a sucker for spooky history. I love learning about a city through its darker stories. Do you believe in ghosts Agent Pike?” You looked up at him through your lashes and gave him a devilish grin.

“You'll have to work a lot harder to make me a believer.”

“Oh, alright Scully, I'll get right on that.” You gave him a quick kiss and continued your own personal ghost tour for Marcus. You rattled on about various haunts as lightning illuminated the sky behind the Capitol Building: Andrew Jackson's ghost in Lafayette Square, The Hay-Adams Hotel that was plagued by 'Clover' Adams who was possibly murdered, and finally as the two of you neared your shared apartment: Ford's Theater.

“We have ghosts next to work?” Marcus queried.

“This town has seen enough bloodshed I'd be surprised if the whole thing weren’t haunted. The Ford's Theater is an obvious one though, there are reports of people hearing plays going on, shadow figures, and cold spots. More than once people have said they heard sounds from a play, a gunshot, followed by Lincoln's ghost up in the booth. Some even say that they see John Wilkes Booth jump down from the booth and limp away.” You couldn't help the enthusiasm you had telling the story; ghosts had always thrilled you.

“Didn't you say Lincoln was at the White House too? Busy ghost.” Marcus joked and you gave him a lighthearted shove with your shoulder.

“Yeah yeah yeah, ghosts aside the building itself is considered cursed by some and I can't blame them. In 1893 the front of the building collapsed and killed twenty-two people and injured almost seventy others. If that doesn't sound like a string of bad events, I'm not sure what is.” You said as Marcus opened the door to your apartment building for you.

“Well, I'm not sure if I'm a believer yet, but I did love the history lesson.” Marcus smirked as the two of you entered the elevator. As soon as the door slid shut Marcus had you pressed against the wall, his hands roaming your body as he crushed his lips against yours. A soft moan escaped your mouth as Marcus' hands skimmed under your shirt and he pressed hot kisses down your throat, stopping to give it a light bite. You were beginning to undo his tie and tug off his jacket when the ding of the elevator shook you both out of your daze, and a slightly startled older woman was standing outside the doors. You both murmured apologies as she entered and Marcus was turning a brilliant shade of pink. Finally reaching your floor, the two of you rushed out laughing like giddy teenagers who couldn't keep their hands off each other.

“Thank you for tonight Marcus, I needed that.” You said earnestly, hunting for your key and opening the door to the dark apartment.

“Anything for you.” He replied, pressing a kiss to your cheek and following you in.

“Honey, didn't you leave a light on?” You looked around your shadowy apartment curiously, eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness.

“I thought so, let me just find the damn switch.” You heard Marcus fumbling through the darkness and suddenly heard a sound behind you. A hand went around your throat, quickly silencing any scream you may have had in you, and you felt the cool metal of a blade pressed against your cheek. With a click Marcus turned on the lights in the apartment and his heart stopped. Ioan Pearce had you by the throat on the other side of the room, knife pressed against your cheek so hard a small drop of blood had begun to collect along the blade. Marcus began to reach for his gun but stopped at the choking noise you made as Pearce squeezed your throat tighter.

“I wouldn't recommend that Mr. Ramos... or is it Special Agent?” Ioan Pearce said menacingly. As Marcus raised his hands up in agreeance Pearce slightly relaxed his hold and you could breathe again. “Christian Laurent sends his regards.” Pearce pressed the knife to your cheek harder and you let out a small cry of pain.

“I don't know what you want, but just let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Marcus' gaze kept flicking back and forth between the two of you, you could see the dread in his eyes.

“Doesn't she though? Isn't she the one who wormed her way in to Christian's inner circle? We don't take kindly to government rats.” Pearce seethed.

Your eyes met Marcus' and you hoped he would think quick as you proceeded to do one of the more ill-advised things you'd ever done in your life. You whipped your head forward and sharply threw it back smashing it into Pearce's, once his grip was loosened you threw back an elbow and scrambled as Marcus charged forward. Marcus tackled him to the ground and struggled for a moment until Pearce wiggled free suddenly and started to flee. Grabbing the loaded Glock from the end table drawer by the door you fired once, catching his arm as he raced out the door. Your heart was racing as Marcus went to sit up and let out a cry of pain. Rushing to him and dropping to your knees you saw the blood seeping through his white dress shirt, Pearce had stabbed Marcus in the abdomen.

“Marcus?! Baby, I need you to look at me.” Your hands shook as you applied pressure to the wound. He reached up, brushed his thumb under the cut on your cheek, his eyes glassy and then he drifted into unconsciousness.

tagged: @diva-1992​, @yespolkadotkitty​, @sarahjkl82-blog​, @seasonschange-butpeopledont​, @mrsparknuts​, @disgruntledspacedad​, @mrschiltoncat​, @giselatropicana​, @sugarontherims​, @ilovetardis, @cynic-spirit​, @supernaturalgirl​, @farfromjustordinary​

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[lilbabycee]

tatiana // steve rogers 🌸

↳ summary: you've made a series of mistakes concerning steve and you're not going to stop now, although these mistakes may leave you in some unprecedented circumstances.

↳ relationship: soft dark!steve rogers x reader

↳ word count: 5.4k (i got carried away with this one)

↳ warnings: explicit smut, mildly dubious consent, emotional manipulation, cockwarming, dad!steve

↳ author’s note: some more soft dark steve bc we all need it 🤤 this may be one of my favorite steve fics i’ve ever written, so please enjoy! 💖 

The white doves that tell the tales residing inside the heavy book that weighs down your lap flutter downwards, blowing little wisps of air onto your skin as your fingers slacken and the cover of the hardback hits the pages with a soft thud. Perched on the edge of the too-big queen-sized bed with the too-soft mattress, you take a second to breathe deeply, cherishing these moments of peace because these breaths haven’t come easy to you recently. Your head falls into one of your hands, your bones as exhausted as your mind. You have to remember that it’s ten in, hold for five, and ten out just like he taught you, but the thought escapes you as your lungs struggle to intake air in anything but huge, gasping breaths. It feels like someone is sitting on your chest, a weight so heavy having settled where your heart should be, dragging your body further to the ground than gravity.

But you’re unable to help the sincere albeit shaky smile on your face when you admire her, your breathing starting to even out until it’s shallow and steady. Round cheeks squished against the pillow, one of her chubby little hands gripping your sleeve and the other tucked underneath her head, she’s a vision - truly a beacon of light in what is otherwise a neverending spiral into darkness. Carefully and with all of the finesse that your shaking hands can muster, you pry her fingers off of your sleeve one by one, although you know that the chances of her waking up are slim. You love telling her that she can sleep through an earthquake or a hurricane because it always - without fail - elicits that same sweet little giggle from the sleeping girl in front of you and a whiny “Mama!” , her beaming smile enough to warm your heart for the rest of your life.

Tatiana’s long eyelashes - all too reminiscent of her daddy’s - fan against her face while she dozes, her mouth wide open and her soft snores the only sound in the room. Her closed eyes shield you from the most disarming baby blues that never let you forget exactly who her father is, and the thought alone makes the blood pumping your heart run cold, an involuntarily shudder passing through you at the feeling.

He’s just over in the next room and you know it - the apartment is almost entirely silent but you know. He’s waiting, expecting you, knowing that you’ll come to see him at the end of the night. Tatiana’s enthusiasm and your insistence upon reading her to sleep hopefully went unnoticed by him - being alone in a room with him always makes your skin crawl and your heart beat erratically but you know that he can smell the arousal that pools between your thighs regardless of the attitude that you give him on the surface.

Not wanting him to come and look for you, you decide that you’ve spent enough time in this massive bedroom - a converted guest room - that’s far too large for a 3-and-a-half-year-old. You lean down over your baby, hand coming up to brush a thumb over her cheek and then run a hand through over the top of her head, pushing the stray baby hairs out of her face. You make sure to place the book on her nightstand so that you don’t have a fiasco like the last time that you couldn’t find it. It ended up underneath the couch and your daughter was in a mood for the whole day, pouting and sulking when her father told her that he couldn’t find it. It was a gift that was given to you by her favorite uncle, Tony, when she was born: Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Tony considers it essential in developing her love for reading and stories at an early age, and you didn’t argue, the gift so sweet and thoughtful that you make sure to read at least a little to her every night. Making sure to turn her nightlight on, you rise and head to the door, looking back over your shoulder one more time to see her cocooned in her blanket and being swallowed by her mattress. The image alone makes a chuckle rise in your throat and you shake your head before flipping the light switch and closing the door.

Your back is pressed against the hard lines of Tatiana’s door, and your gaze falls on the one at the end of the hallway. It’s been left ajar, almost as if he’s inviting you inside. You know that you shouldn’t - common sense is telling you that you should steer clear of that room for the sole reason that you know exactly what or rather who lays in their bed behind it. Before you even realize what’s happening, a deep baritone is summoning you to, “Come in”.

Silently, you curse yourself, aware that it’s too late to take back any chance of escape that you may have had prior to this, but you press your palm against the white wood of the door so that it slowly slides open. The sight that greets you makes you want to claw at your skin as much as you want to claw at his. The idea of vertical red lines scratched down his back makes you bite your lip and really assess the gorgeous man stretched out in front of you.

At a closer listen, you’re aware that he’s actually been playing music, soft jazz melodies floating through the air that ease your anxiety just a little. His bed is directly across from the door and obnoxiously large and comfortable - it used to be covered in pillows and have a softer mattress and extra blankets, but that was before you moved out. Now, the pillows are somewhere in a closet, as are the blankets, and the mattress is significantly harder than it used to be, although not uncomfortable. But the bed isn’t what’s making your mouth water and a fire ignite in your stomach. It’s the man atop it.

He’s stretched out like some kind of god - picture Dionysus - with the bone structure and physique of Adonis, and you think that if the heavens opened up right now and took him back you wouldn’t bat a single eyelash. The only sources of light in the room are the twin lamps that emanate a bright, white light. The light catches all of the planes and angles of his face, the shadows and highlights alike showing you all of his best features. And he’s absolutely the picture of relaxation, back leaning against the headboard, right hand behind his head and the left holding a book.

He’s only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt that’s slightly rucked up to show the line of abdominal hair that leads down to what you really want, but he may as well have been wearing nothing because you wouldn’t be able to tear your eyes off of this man if you tried. And even from the few meters that separate the two of you, you can feel the intensity of his blue gaze behind his glasses - it always feels like he’s stripping you slowly, carefully, methodically in his mind. Not only is it disconcerting but it makes you feel things that you can only associate with uncomfortable desire. His eyebrow quirks up and the hand that was behind his head slowly slides his glasses down the bridge of his perfect nose until they drop to his side. His lips quirk up into a smug little smirk that you simultaneously want to punch and kiss off his face.

“Hey,” he says your name like a prayer, lips wrapping around the sound and it draws you into the room - you’re almost floating towards him.

You swallow, willing yourself to say something instead of just standing there, staring at him like an idiot. Relaxing your stance, one of your hands finds your hip and the other runs over your hair that you’re sure is a mess from playing with your daughter earlier.

“Hi,” you reply quietly, almost a whisper. He mirrors you, running a hand through his golden hair and then over his clean-shaven jaw - Tatiana prefers it that way.

“She asleep?”

You nod, finding yourself on the edge of his bed as he puts his book face down next to him. Inhaling deeply, he runs his large hands over his powerful thighs and even that small motion has you distracted and you squeeze your own thighs together, shaking your head disapprovingly at yourself. Absent-mindedly, your hand comes up to toy with the pendant of the simple necklace that you always wear, and you watch Steve’s eyes as they follow your movements. They zero in on your exposed décolletage and darken, his tongue running over his plush pink lower lip again. Pulling his phone from underneath his pillow, he makes a point of checking it before glancing back up at you.

“What?”

“You checked the time, sweetheart?”

At the shake of your head, he flips his phone around to show you that it’s four minutes past midnight.

“Shit, are you kidding me?” you groan almost childishly, rising hastily and making your way towards the door. “I’ve got work tomorrow - I wasn’t supposed to stay this late.”

“Hey, hey,” Steve quickly moves to stand up and placate you, rounding the bed to come and stand in front of you with his hands out. “It’s not your fault - Tati was excited to see you, you can’t blame her… or yourself for that matter. She’s been asking about you for weeks now, talkin’ everybody’s ear off about it. She doesn’t get to see us all the time, you know that-”

You know it all too well. Frankly, you’re proud of your success - there’s no reason that you shouldn’t be. You were lucky enough to land a key internship at Stark Industries as a college student that really gave you a leg up in a lot of your future professional life. You were already set to inherit what is now your publishing company from your father, but you were unsure about whether or not that was something that you wanted to devote your life to. Sooner rather than later, something clicked for you and that was when you decided to pick up your father’s life’s work, reassuring him that it would be left in capable hands so that he could eventually retire peacefully. Not that he doesn’t still hover because he does, giving you advice whether you want it or not and making final decisions in places where you’re torn. Initially, there was a lot of discontent within the company concerning your father’s replacement: he is something of a legend in the publishing world and even you were terrified that you wouldn’t be able to live up to their expectations. You had to prove that you deserved to have the CEO position that your father appointed you to, show people and yourself, more importantly, that you were worth being there as much as any other employee. It took some years, but you love your job, so much so in fact that your mother - a former dentist - is often concerned that you’re working yourself to an early grave.

Unfortunately, this leaves little time for you to spend with your family, especially your daughter. Your job requires an exorbitant amount of international travel, meaning that your house barely looks like a home because most weeks, it’s empty.

Sighing, the thought in itself makes a grey cloud hang over your head to shroud you in despondency. Steve notices and the corners of his lips turn downwards as he boldly approaches you and gently grabs your upper arms. His touch in itself makes you soften and he dips his head to try and catch your eyes. When he does, he gives you a crooked, boyish smile that makes the crease in your eyebrows disappear and your lips curve into a shy grin.

“I know it’s part of your job,” Steve’s voice drops even further, hands rubbing up and down your arms, thumbs stroking the cotton of your shirt. “But she misses you… why don’t you just stay over?”

This makes you freeze in place and try and free yourself from his grip, but he only tightens it, that same compassionate look in his eyes.

“Baby,” before you can reprimand him for using the pet name, he anticipates your next words and shushes you so that he can continue, “I bet Tati would love to see you when she wakes up tomorrow morning. Imagine the look on her face - she’d be overjoyed. Just think about it.”

You know what he’s doing and still attempt to wrestle free, but his hold on you is solid though it doesn’t tighten any further.

“Steve,” you sigh in what sounds like defeat and you can see the spark of hope ignite in his eyes. “You know why I have to get home. I’ll come back tomorrow - I’ve got the whole week here before I head out again-”

“But then what?” he says your name pleadingly, though his tone sounds almost accusatory. “I could be gone on a mission at any time and then some of the team has to take care of her - or your parents, or your sister, or your brother. Look, I try to be here as much as I can but I’m not planning to hang up the shield for a few more years-”

“And I’m not expecting you to, I never said I was, Steve,” you fire back, taking a step towards him with your arms still pinned by your sides. “I get that your missions are unpredictable and unexpected - you can’t help that - but there’s no way that I can lose these clients overseas, especially since I basically just got this position-”

“So you’re saying that you’re prioritizing your job over our daughter?” his voice rises slightly, but his eyes don’t harden at all.

“That’s- are you kidding me? That’s not at all what I’m saying. I want to provide financial stability that’s enough for the rest of her life and with both of us working, she’ll have more than enough for her and her kids and probably her kids’ kids. God, why would you even -”

“You know what she told me yesterday?”

This makes the fire within you die down just a little, your heart skipping a beat when you register the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of his words. You swallow, hands starting to clam up and lips starting to quiver. He knew what reaction this would give you, effectively shutting you up.

“Wh-what- I mean, you know...what did she say?”

Steve suddenly looks away from you, releasing your arms and pacing, turning his back to you. Letting out a distressed sigh, he shoves his hands deep into his mop of blonde hair, planting himself on the edge of the bed and shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m sorry, it’s not my place-”

His voice is quiet but also muffled by his hands, but now he’s piqued your curiosity so you can’t just let this go - especially because it concerns the single most important person in your life. Without thinking, you rush over, getting on your knees before him, right in between his open legs. Tentatively, your hands land on his knees and your thumbs trace small circles where they lay.

“Steve,” you call out softly. Nothing happens for a moment - he remains silent and the jazz song is underscored by his ragged breathing. The feeling of nervousness that already set in your stomach drops further and further, blood running like fire once again through your veins. When he finally does look up at you, he looks torn, like a lost golden retriever. He knows very well what that look does to you and you’re more than aware of it yourself, yet you find that you are unable to look away from those eyes that mirror those of your daughter so perfectly.

He says your name quietly, his significantly larger hand covering one of yours that rest on his knee. Though you hate to admit it to yourself, it makes the suspense of the situation so much more bearable.

“It’s just,” Steve hesitates, unable to maintain eye contact with you and sitting up from his hunched position, “she asked me why you were never here…”

Your heart sinks, another lump stuck in your throat.

“And you said…?”

“A-All I did was tell her the truth,” he shrugs, exhaling another shaky breath before looking at you with glassy eyes, “I told her that you’re really busy with work all the time, but every time you’re not at work, you’re trying your best to spend all your time with her.”

Steeling yourself not to cry, you look away from his face and lower your gaze to stare at the carpet.

Ten in, hold for five, ten out.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say lightheartedly, knowing full-well that there’s more to it. Steve manages a chuckle, but it sounds forced so you decide to shut up and listen.

“But then she said that it was okay because she has Nat instead.”

There it was.

You’ve always known that your daughter has been brutally honest - as all children often are - but this is a pain unlike anything that you’ve felt before. Your fingers come up to your chest to clutch at your breast, dying to massage away the aching of your heart. Hot trails of fire spill onto your cheeks and the moment that Steve registers them, he takes advantage of your position on the floor and tucks his hands underneath your arms to drag you up to sit on his lap like a doll.

You’re curled up on top of your ex-fiancé’s thighs, his hand pressing the side of your head into his hard but surprisingly comfortable shoulder, and you’re sobbing your fucking eyes out at the harsh but very real words of your three-and-a-half-year-old daughter. Steve says your name comfortingly and wraps his arms tightly around your body, rocking you back and forth while he shushes you and whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

It definitely hurts to hear: the hectic, distant, fast-paced and frankly insane life that you’ve been trying to convince yourself isn’t your reality is indeed the truth and even your daughter can recognize that. You’re ashamed of yourself, Steve’s kind words only making you feel so much worse.

Between sobs, you attempt to explain yourself but Steve just keeps quieting you, rubbing circles into your back. All he says is ten in, hold for five, ten out.

Once you’ve calmed down a little, you realize the vulnerable spot that you’re in - one you shouldn’t be in. You squirm in his arms like you’re about to get up but once again, he holds you firmly in place.

“I need to head out, Steve- I’ve gotta get some time alone to think about-”

“Or,” he draws out the word, voice having hardened significantly, “you could stay here and when our daughter comes to wake me up in the morning, she’ll find you here too.”

Jerking your head back, you’re genuinely shocked at his audacity.

“Steve, let’s get this straight,” you start, feeling much more confident and calm than before, “if I’m staying here, we are absolutely not sleeping in the same room. We’re not having a repeat of what happened the last time-”

“And what was so bad about the last time, hmm, sweetheart?”

He runs his index finger over your jawline, dragging it down the length of your neck and down to your exposed collarbones.

“If I do recall,” his voice is much quieter but also deeper, “you thoroughly enjoyed what we did the last time.”

His one arm keeps you anchored to him, the other moving from your chest to cup behind your neck and pull you to meet his lips.

“Steve-”

Your protests die in your throat as you feel his soft lips on you, your eyes fluttering shut as he starts to press wet, open-mouthed kisses on your throat. He works his way up to underneath your ear, biting in places that you know you should be worried about him marking before he nips at your earlobe with his perfect teeth and traces the outer shell of your ear with his tongue. It makes you whimper softly, the sound making your eyes shoot open and snapping you out of whatever trance he’s put you in, your spine going rigid.

“We’re not doing this,” you say firmly, placing your hands flat on his chest and pushing backward. He looks resigned but nods, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head instead.

“Fine, but I still insist that you stay here,” he presses. “Not for me, but for Tatiana - think of her. She’ll love it.”

Biting your lip, you consider it for a moment before sucking your teeth and staring heavenwards.

What’s the worst that could happen? And if it’s just so that Tatiana can see you with her in the morning, it’s more than worth having to deal with Steve for a night.

“Okay, fine- fine. You’re gonna need to let me borrow some clothes. If I’d known that this was the plan, I would’ve packed more appropriately.”

Steve’s self-satisfied smirk irks you and he shifts you off of his lap, standing up so that he can disappear inside his walk-in to search for something for you to wear. You can’t help but notice that as he’s walking, he has to adjust the crotch of his sweatpants which aren’t really hiding anything. You clear your throat and look away, the heat that previously ran throughout your body all settles in your core.

Something that smells suspiciously like Steve - soap, pine, lavender and something citrusy - smacks you in the face, making you scowl when the clothing falls to reveal a grinning Steve who looks very pleased with himself leaning against the closet door.

“C’mon,” he gestures to you with one hand, the other shoved in his pocket. “I’d love to get some sleep, so get changed.”

He turns on his heel and heads to another door on the other side of the room, walking inside as he yells, “And make sure to let people know that you aren’t gonna be in tomorrow. We’ve got plans, doll.”

Plans?

The door clicks behind him, and you heave a deep sigh, wanting to fall through the bed. Quickly, you disrobe, folding your clothes and placing them onto one of the armchairs in the corner of his room next to the record player. Looking at what he brought you, you shake your head in incredulity.

This cheeky motherfucker.

He’s only brought you a t-shirt - a white one with the Captain America insignia on the back, the same one that you bought for him as a joke on the first birthday of his that you spent together. You purposely made sure that it was loose enough for you to wear to bed by itself too because he wears all of his t-shirts in a size too small - not that you’d ever complain - and you hated grabbing one of his shirts, putting it on, and finding that it fit you just like one of your own.

You pull it over your head and look back to the empty space on the bed.

No shorts either.

You scold yourself because you should’ve known that he’d pull something like this. But he’s promised that things won’t go to levels that you’re not comfortable with, so you just sleeping in your panties and this t-shirt should be fine.

Maybe?

Entering the bathroom, Steve hands you the toothbrush that he keeps here for you, his own buzzing in his mouth, and you thank him silently with your eyes as you take it from him. Your eyes travel up his body, narrowing because he’s taken off his shirt and his sweatpants, and he is only wearing a pair of grey Calvins, distracting you and making even more moisture pool between your thighs. Steve evidently notices your not-so-subtle staring and tries to hide his smile under the guise of brushing with renewed vigor.

Get a hold of yourself.

The two of you finish up in the bathroom, Steve walking behind you and burning holes into your bare thighs. He turns off both of the lights on either side of his bed as you crawl underneath the heavy comforter, curling in on yourself. You turn away from him, hoping that it indicates that you’re not up for talking and just want to sleep. He moves around a little bit before getting in with you, and suddenly your space is crowded by pillows?

He remembered.

It makes the butterflies in your belly that have been dormant for a long time start to wake up.

Rearranging the pillows in the fashion that you like, you try and put today’s events behind you and make a silent vow to yourself that you will do better, you will try harder to become a better and more present mother to your daughter.

In fact, you’re so absorbed in your thoughts that sleep begins to pull you into its clutches, your eyes drooping lower and lower until your breathing evens out and you’re just on the cusp of it when a strong, hard body molds itself against your back. Any semblance of sleep that you felt just moments ago slips away, your eyes widening.

“What are you doing -”

His hand clamps around your mouth, promptly cutting you off before his other warm hand runs down your front, down your t-shirt before creeping underneath, all while leaving a trail of fire in his wake. You’re thrashing now, knowing that your efforts will be futile because as much as you can tell yourself you don’t want this, it’s everything that you’ve ever wanted.

It was a mistake like this that gave you the best thing to ever happen to you.

His lips touch your ear at the same time his hand flicks your peaked nipple, making you buck your hips back into him. “Oh, sweetheart, look at you.”

He gropes at your breast for another few seconds, his gentle yet firm grip doing nothing to ease the desire that you have for him. A sharp pinch to your nipple sends a lightning bolt right to your cunt. It then moves even further downwards, past down your belly button, hovering over where you need him the most.

“So needy, aren’t you, baby?”

He slips the fingertip of his index finger underneath the band of the lace, snapping it so that you gasp against his hand.

“I’ve been able to smell you all night,” he buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and the groan from deep within his chest vibrates against your back. Arching your back into him, he uses both of his hands to push your hips into his, hooking his thumbs over the band of your panties and sliding the rest of his fingers underneath. “You wet for me, sweetheart?”

You can do nothing but nod - this is a mistake but you wish that every mistake that you ever made felt this good.

“Good girl,” you can hear his grin while he removes his hands and his index finger slides against your covered core. “This all for me?”

You nod again and he moans loud , louder than the sounds of your desperate panting. The jazz record continues to spin on the needle.

Slowly, he runs a finger up and down your folds, feeling the slick that has dampened your panties. He thrusts up into your ass in response, wasting no more time.

“Please-”

You choke out the word, needing him to extinguish the flames that he’s ignited inside of you.

“It’s okay, doll - I got you.”

And he does, yanking down his underwear over his cock and wrapping his hand around the base. In your eagerness, you shove your own panties down your hips, causing Steve to rumble a laugh and click his tongue at you.

“Baby,” he exhales, evidently amused at your whiny demeanor. “Did you really think you could trick me? Comin’ in here, all shy and nervous but still tempting me… knowing exactly what you’re doin’, hmm? You wanna be a family again, sweetheart?”

With this, he guides the head of his dick to your entrance, rubbing up and down the sensitive skin, taking his time. And in all the time that you’ve known him, Steve is not the type to be patient.

“All you had to do was ask.”

And then he slams into you - really and truly because you jerk forward at his powerful thrust, eyes watering at the sensation. He’s so big that the stretch precariously toes the line between pain and pleasure but just falls on the side of being enjoyable. The sound of skin slapping sin is lewd and filthy and you love it.

Steve’s deft fingers quickly find your clit and press down, rubbing circles into the small nub. Coupled with Steve’s labored breathing and moans in your ear, it doesn’t take you long to be right on the edge of your peak.

“I can feel you, doll,” he whispers, teeth grazing your ear once again. “You gonna cum for me, make a mess all over my dick?”

You nod frantically, unable to speak, eyes squeezed shut.

“No, no, no, baby,” he breathes. “Look at me while I make you cum - I want you to know who’s making you feel this good. Tell me who’s about to make you cum, baby.”

Opening your eyes, he flips you around so that you’re facing him, throwing one of your legs over his and he does it all without ceasing his motions. Your body warms in embarrassment, however because you’re chasing your release, you swallow any pride that you may have and give him what he wants.

“You are-”

An exceptionally hard thrust makes you squeal and Steve grunts in disappointment. He’s got one arm encircled around your waist, the other gripping your throat bruisingly tight.

“I didn’t fucking hear you, sweetheart.”

“You are,” you try a bit louder, your ability to form coherent sentences significantly impaired.

“What was that, doll?”

“You are,” you yell emphatically, the pressure being applied to your clit temporarily pushing the words out of your mouth in exactly the way you know he likes it.

He bounces you on his cock, pulling you into a heated kiss before drastically increasing his speed, every thrust upwards poking at your g-spot.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he licks a stripe up your throat and your hands scramble to find purchase on his slick skin. Your nails dig into his back, painting those thin crimson lines he likes so much. “Just like that.”

A strangled moan crawls out of your throat but he shushes you, squeezing your neck tighter.

“I know, I know,” he soothes. “Cum for me, doll.”

And so you do - your thighs quiver and your lips part wide in a silent scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your muscles contract around Steve’s dick which sets off his own orgasm but almost stubbornly, he keeps his eyes on your blissed-out face while he spills his own release into you.

Once the two of you come down from your high, your heart racing and your breath erratic, Steve’s tight embrace does nothing to quell your growing anxiety at what the fuck you’ve just done - again.

“Should keep you like this forever,” Steve pulls you into the heated skin of his chest and buries his face into the space between your shoulder and your neck. His cock is still buried inside of you. “Fucked full of my cock for the rest of your life. I bet you’d like that, baby.”

His words make tears spring to your eyes - guilt - and you can’t even give him a response, so all he does is exhale deeply, kissing the top of your head and settling into the sea of pillows around you.

“Night, sweetheart.”

And then he promptly falls asleep, no more words exchanged between the two of you. Truly you can do nothing more but wrap your arms around his neck, the weight of him inside you making it difficult for you to get comfortable, and try to get some rest. The jazz record slowly starts to come to a close.

The moonlight shines through the slits of Steve’s blinds, depicting white horizontal lines across his back. It makes him look like art, you think, running your hands slowly up and down his bare skin. As you do, the light catches on the ostentatious rock on your ring finger.

↳ tagged: @literaturefeen​

[insufferablelust]

The Artist And His Muse (vii)

Warnings : Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, BDSM Talk, Slight smut (thigh riding, denied orgasm), another build up heheh, lots of pet names, cute stuff too! its pretty tame just wait until you see the next chapter :)

I would also like to say that, some aspects of this story is not consistent with the actual series, i make some changes to fit the plot lines better. Full credit to the creators and directors of the series though.

MASTERLIST.

————

To worship—as if he’s the prophet of our own religion, he’s the epitome of her own beating heart, affections are richer than gold, and pleasure is the Valhalla.

—————

“3 years, Princess.”

You’re fucked, Once again.

—————

Y/N’s plushy lips trembled displaying her bursting confusion. Her eyes trained to Spencer, the gaze was intense between the two— so intense that they could feel their very skin burned with desire—want, need.

She tried to recall, each night tracing back to the times she went to that godforsaken club just to let loose, just to feel someone taking control of her, just to let go. She tried so hard to see if he was in one of her flashing memories, refusing to believe that he knew so much about her, so deep within her that it almost feels like she could feel his very presence in her bloodstream just taunting her in the most pleasant way.

“Have you ever—“ Her voice cracked as she opened her mouth, dismissing every embarrassment and lust that crept up her spine, hugging her skin like a thick blanket.

“Ever tried to say hello to you? No. Ever tried to punch the guy you submitted to at the time? No. Ever tried to give you a collar and claim you then and there? No. But do i want to? More than anything, Y/N.” The dominance within his voice sent extreme chills to her core, she thought back to all the times she was with someone there,

Fantasia is the name of the club, an all members only exclusive BDSM club that Y/N was sure no one would know who she is or that she worked with FBI. The rules of the club are unique, All the Submissives were obligated to wear dresses and their member collar, the Dominants were to wear suits and hold their member pendant. If the Dominant and Submissive agreed on spending the night together or perhaps more— the pendant will be placed right in the center of the subs collar, so that everyone else knows that the sub is taken. Usually it only lasted for a night— for Y/N a week was her longest.

“W-Why didn’t you?” Her eyes searched for any kind of emotion behind his, but all she could find was the lust and desire— though she believed that hers would tell the same tale. Her breath hitched as he stand up from your seat and cup your jaw in his palm, the grip was strong and sure to which he then leaned down to whisper, “Because i knew if i said hello, i wouldn’t be able to stop myself from keeping you all to myself forever. You drove me crazy, didn’t you know that pet?”

You gulped, eyes staring into him and confidently muttered, “You drove me crazy too. Wasn’t good was it? to see me get manhandled by another?” You raised an eyebrow, and hold onto his wrist tightly, you want to see him, see all the dominance that he has to offer— you craved it.

Sure enough, his hand went from a grip to a choke as he tightly wrapped them around your neck and making sure his fingertips pressed right against your beaming pulse. “Careful, Y/N. No girl of mine would behave this way.” He tuts, head shaking in disappointment which made you tremble a little and muttered “Sorry sir.” Underneath your breath “I want to be yours...” You trailed, biting your lips as you do so.

“And i want you to be mine, Princess. But we have to discuss lots of things. This is dangerous line we’re crossing, in every aspect possible.” It was like as if his eyes demanded you to obey and say yes to everything he said.

“Yes sir.”

“We have to be extra careful, and really pay attention to every single detail you hear me?” He gripped your chin, as you nodded, “We can’t tell anyone can we?” You bit your lip hard as your gaze moved down and sighed heavily, it’s not that you’re worried, it’s just that you want to be able to love him whenever wherever, be his at all times.

“No, not now at least. We’ll find a way to let Hotch know but with everything that’s going on, we have to take it slow.” He frowned as he sees the way your face fell, his thumb pried your lips open and push it in, “Listen to me, I love you, and i want us to be together— we’re together but we have to make some compromises in order for this to work, bunny.” You nodded your head as your eyes fluttered shut and mumble a small “i know, i love you too Spencer.”

Spencer smiled, his lips pressing a deep kiss on her forehead before drawing back, “Alright lets clean these up then we can go ahead and discuss limits okay?” He tugged his thumb out of your lips, muttering a small “pretty..” as he watched your lips tried to chase it. “Yeah, okay.” You leaned in and kiss his lips before you both went on to wash the dishes.

————

“This is how it’s going to work Y/N, i believe you’re experienced enough to know these things right?” He spoke, voice heavy on the air as you two sat on the couch with you on one side and him on the other. His thighs parted, as he watched you intently, making sure to follow your every gesture and move, to see which ticked you.

“Yeah, um i mean i’m familiar with the basics.. although i’m still not sure where we’re standing here— l-like what’s our relationship?” He smiles gently at your soft tone, knowing how nervous you are, so he leaned in closer and pat his thighs. “lay your head on my lap, Y/N.”

“Is that an order, sir?” You nervously giggled, trying to lighten up the mood. Spencer’s eyebrow twitched as he sighed heavily and quickly reach back to tug on your hair pulling your head backwards, pressing a small kiss below your ear before whispering with a chuckle, “I’m glad you’re having fun now, but after we have our rules— you’d wish you never ran your pretty mouth again.” His mocking tone caused you to breathe heavily and let a whine slip through your lips.

“I-“ The only gesture he made was patting on his lap on more time before you complied and rest your cheeks against the harsh material of his pants before looking up to see him with an amused smile, whispering a soft “Good girl.” That mase you squirmed on his lap.

“We don’t have to put labels on it Y/N..” He trailed as he smiled down at you with his fingers on your hair, “I’m yours, and you’re mine.” He whispered it this time, fluttering his eyes shut for a moment as you did the same, feeling the overwhelming warmth seeped through your skin.

“I know, i love you..” You reached his hand, then placing a lingering kiss on his palm which he replied with a smile and whisper of ‘i love you too.’ before intertwining your fingers together.

“Now as for this, you’ll tell me your hard limits, and then we’ll move on to soft ones. But first we need to establish a safe word, angel.” He muses, wetting his lips as you rake through your brain, “trooper” You chuckled and he laughed.

“You’re such a star wars nerd aren’t you?” He shook his head as you pouted up at him cutely and shrugged “as if you aren’t with your dr who and star trek stuff” you huffed which he chuckled at,

“alright alright, now go on tell me your limits princess.”

—————

As soon as you’re finished writing your list, you handed them over to Spencer with blushing cheeks and warmth spreading over your belly—the way he read it intently, skimming over each word is enough to give you orgasmic type of feeling.

“You sure you want to put, wax play to your hard limits?” He asked softly, letting her know that he has no intention of shaming or judging her causing you to blush slightly, and nuzzle your nose on his thighs.

“I just—“ You were about to reply before you feel a strong grip on your hair, pulling them back with enough force that it made your core even more drippy and your scalp ached.

“If you are to be mine, you’ll answer each question as you look at me. Is that clear?” The hand that wasn’t on your hair, held the paper tightly, “Yes, sir. I’m sorry sir.” Your answers were timid as you pulled away and cleared your throat,

“I tried it before.. and i’m into it but i just don’t like how it feels after, i love the marks but it doesn’t feel as good on my skin. I guess it’s not a super hard limit more leaning towards the soft, and i’m okay to try it some times but maybe give me a warning first?” Your eyes blinked rapidly, as you feel the bile on your throat pushing up in a response of nervousness.

Spencer chuckled as he leaned in to cup your cheeks, “You’re so cute, it’s hard for me not to take you right here. But yes, i’m okay with that plus i could mark you up just fine.” There was a teasing glint on his eyes before he went back to read the list, normally it would’ve taken him seconds but he wanted to savor and make mental notes inside his head.

“We pretty much have the same limits, bunny. You also put vanilla as a part of your list of preferences so we’ll do some of that too okay?” His gentle tone made you blush even harder as you nodded slightly and respond with a small “Yes sir, thank you.”

“Is there any name you don’t wanna be called with? Name calling is a big part of degradation, although not always— in fact i could make you turn into a pathetic whimpering mess without even saying a word.” He muses, enjoying the way you squirmed harder on the couch as you shook your head quickly,

“I’m okay with... any names you deemed fit.” You murmured, earning a soft hum from him before you continued, “S-Sir..”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Could you maybe um— try it?”

“Making a mess out of you without saying anything..?”

“Yes sir..”

As if you’ve said the magic word, his thighs buckled upwards, grinding against your heat as his thumb brush over your clothed nipples and his breath hit your neck, kissing over the marked skin gently, making you let out choked out moans and mewls when he wrapped his hand around your neck.

“Oh look at you, practically humping my thigh like a desperate mindless little girl that you are. Maybe you’ll learn not to run your mouth next time, isn’t that right baby?” He tightened the grip on your neck as he laughed condescendingly, “I asked you a question.” He released his hand from your neck letting them toying against both of your nipples now,

“Y-Yes! yes please sir..” You were a whimpering mess as you keep on grinding your core against his clothed thigh feeling yourself getting close to your climax

“Ah.. pretty baby wants to come doesn’t she?” Just as you were about to ask, you heard his phone ring causing you both to groan,

“Looks like i got a case baby, we’ll finish this later hm?”

“But- But!”

“Shh, be good and go to your scheduled appointment today. I’ll see you when i get back. I love you, and i’ll text you as many times as i can.”

And with a final kiss on the lips, and forehead he was gone, leaving you wet and needy on your couch. Fine, if he wanted to play that way,

he’ll definitely hate the bratty version of you.

————

tell me what you think on the comment or send me a message, Tag list is open just let me know if you want in! thank you!

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