#this one has so many blooms open and still growing to open later

[coridallasmultipass]

I fucking love snapdragons, man! Natures funky little puppets.

This has been a snapdragon appreciation post.

[marthawrites]

first of all choose to ignore this if you're not up to it but i would LOVE some aemond x reader tiddies sucking/worship with a whole pussy eating and pussy fucking.. dirty talk always appreciated btw!! AGAIN feel free to ignore im just an aemond and tiddies sucking sucker <3

Hello sweet anon! Are you still with me? I hope you are ♥ I apologize for making you wait since July for this request. If you are still around, I sincerely hope this fic does the trick - mwah!

Morning Lovebites Lead To Sweet Dreams

Aemond Targaryen x wife reader

Word count: 2.9k+

About: You and Aemond share a morning bath and the lingering sensations last with you all day. When he returns to your marriage chambers later than usual, you're sad you might sleep through his return. Once in for the night, however, he makes up for it.

Includes: It's in the request! This is all smut. Featuring breast play, nipple play, biting, hickies, unprotected vaginal sex, minor pain play, reader receiving oral sex, sweet talking, some dirty talking, possessiveness, and minor breeding kink

Note: Hello lovely reader! While this fic has elements of breast worship, there is no descriptions to breast size. That is entirely up to you! All tiddies are good tiddies in this house! Reader is implied to come from a noble House but is unspecified. As always, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy!

“Every woman is the image of their mother and to be spoken of with reverence,” Aemond’s voice rasped into the smooth skin of your neck as he gathered your hair into his gentle grasp, moving it over one shoulder to expose the full length of your bare neck and shoulder to him. He trailed the tip of his nose over your delicate skin as if he could smell the very blood that pumped through your veins. Goosebumps rose on your skin and he smiled silently at the sight. “Mm… my lovely wife. So sweet and still so sensitive for her husband’s touch,” he murmured again, both his hands feeling up the front of your slippery body. “Every day the urge to thank your mother for making you grows greater,” he said as he gently squeezed your breasts, their softness and warmth already making his cock swell against the small of your back. 

Despite the many turns of moon you’d been married, the temperature of his baths still made you hiss upon entering. Yet, you gasped softly at the sensation of his hands. He was warm; always so warm. Your skin bloomed with the tub's heat, and the humidity of it caused little curls to form in the fine hairs of your hairline. “You’ve thanked my mother and father for my hand many times, husband,” you answered sweetly. “So much so that they cannot believe I’m not carrying your child yet,” you added just as sweet, leaning back against him to further press your breasts into his palms.

He peppered kisses – open mouthed and nipping – over your neck, looking down the front of your body. He loved your breasts from every angle, but there was something extra delicious about seeing them from this angle. He pinched your pebbled nipples gently and rolled them between his fingers. “It’s not from lack of excitement or trying,” he said, smirking.

“A-ah! Aemond..! You make them sore when you do that,” you half whimpered, feeling an entirely different type of heat begin to pool between your thighs.

He tugged your nipples forward until they snapped out of his grasp, reveling the way your soft flesh rippled with the motion. “Then I shall kiss them all better.” He pinched them again, firmer this time, and rolled them anew.

You choked out a little sound and giggled. Reaching around your back, you grasped his now fully hardened length and slowly pumped along it. He exhaled the loveliest noise and you gripped him firmer. Stroking him, you turned your head to look back at him with half-lidded eyes. “I need you, husband, before our day’s duties begin.”

He caught your lips in a searing kiss and licked into your mouth with lustful hunger. His cock twitched when you moaned in response, returning his kiss with just as much fervor. Wasting no more time he gripped your waist and helped turn you around so you were facing each other. He looked up at you – the intense hue of his natural eye and his darkly beautiful sapphire stone – while gripping firmly onto the swells of your chest. “Ride me, wife. Show me how much you need your husband’s cock.”

With a shift of your hips you sunk down his length, your walls stretching wonderfully around him, until there was no more of him to take. You ground on him, bounced on him, and did it all again, until water sloshed out messily from the tub and the room filled with sounds of your shared pleasure.

All the while Aemond never gave your breasts rest. He laid his face between them, kissed them, suckled them, squeezed and pinched them. New lovebites decorated your tender flesh – pinks and purples and fading bitemarks – which he made sure to tenderly coat in oils before your ladies appeared to help you dress.

When all was said and done you both had little curls along your hairline. You kept yours with pride, whereas Aemond took extra time to smooth them out.

-

The day’s duties seemed as if they'd never end. All you wanted was your husband. If you had it your way you would say fuck his duties, fuck your duties, and laze about all day in bed with your dragon prince: eating cake, perfectly ripened fruit, and drinking sweet Arbor wine. All those little lovebites he left behind burned pleasantly reminding you of your shared bath. Warmth filled your lower belly as you became lost in those daydreamy memories. The rest of the day went by in a carnal haze.

Night had fallen and Aemond still hadn’t returned. 

What on earth was he up to?

Unsure of the night’s plans, you finally dismissed your last servant after they stoked the fire and added more wood to it. You sat in front of your vanity, now, slowly brushing braids out of your hair. You removed jewelry piece by piece and placed them in your jewelry box. As far back as you could remember you had a taste for shiny and pretty things. Even as a young girl you loved receiving a new necklace, or bracelet, or earrings instead of toys or other things for nameday gifts. As you grew older those tastes never wavered. After marrying Aemond he made sure to adorn you in the finest things. Pearls, emeralds, rubies. But, his favorite were sapphires. They become one of your favorites, too. 

It was quiet except for the fire’s crackle and with each passing minute you found yourself growing more drowsy. Just when you thought you might doze off while reading in bed, the heavy wooden door of your marriage chamber opened. “Husband! I thought I might not get to see you before sleep overcame me,” you said a little tiredly, whole face bright upon watching him close and latch the door. “I’ve missed you terribly.” Once you caught sight of his expression, however, your brows furrowed in worry. “What’s the matter?”

He sighed a long sigh, beginning to remove his clothing. “I had heard of Aegon and his growing… depravities, but I hadn’t expected them to be so… shameful. He disgraces our family name by what he does in the underbellies of Flea Bottom.”

You gulped. “What did you discover?”

Aemond shook his head while stepping out of his boots. “Nothing you need to fret about tonight.”

“I am Targaryen now too, and I wish to know what is happening,” you retorted.

“Not now. You say you missed me terribly? Well, I assure you I missed you more,” he said, walking in long easy strides to you on bare feet. He’d removed everything except his pants which were unlaced in the front. The casualness of it had your belly stirring, and the sight of his long, lean body flexing toward you had your thighs pressing together. “I didn’t have enough of you this morning…,” he rumbled against your mouth as he shadowed above you, gently pushing you onto your back once more. He laid on his side beside you, kissing you mouth again and again until your little tongue slid against his mouth. He groaned, deepening the affection, while his hand pushed up your thigh, tugging your shift up with him as he went.

“More? I’m not so sure about that,” you giggled, nipping at his lips. “Every little mark you left on me has been aching all day. A good ache. I’ve been needy for you all day, husband,” you purred, hooking one of your legs over his waist in an attempt to pull him closer into you.

He groaned somewhere deep in his chest and rolled atop you effortlessly, pinning one of your hands above you head as he loomed above you. The silver of his silky hair glowed with highlights of orange from the fire and candles in your room. His eye bore into your own, blazing, as a smirk etched itself across his angular features. “My good little wife has been aching and wet for me all day? My, my, darling…,” he crooned, kissing your jaw, neck, and throat. 

“You’re torturing me,” you said, desire flaring wildly in your core.

His free hand pushed your shift higher; thighs, smallclothes, belly, breasts, all revealing themselves to him. “Lean up and take this off,” he half growled. You did as you were told and in a flurry of motion he tossed it off the edge of the bed. “Your skin is loveliest covered in my marks,” he mused aloud as he tilted his head, inspecting the fullness of the front of your body. “My perfect girl.” His hand pushed up the front of you, splaying wide as to touch all of you that he could, fingertips grazing over your bitten and sucked flesh. He pressed down on those lovebites. Testing the bruises; testing you.

“Ah-h!” You gasped, squirming beneath him. “Not so hard!” You whined with pleading eyes.

A satisfied sound rumbled up from his chest. “So they are tender…,” he whispered, grinning, as he continued to gently push down into each bruise. “My poor girl,” he said, dipping his head low to kiss over each mark, now, making sure to pay extra attention to your pebbled nipples when he passed over them. “I had to make sure you were telling the truth. So far, half of what you said is true. As for the other…,” he mumbled around mouthfuls of your titflesh, greedy lips unable to leave your pretty nipples for long.

The pleasure of his mouth soon made you forget about the pain of his touch, but it was that pain that made your pleasure all the sweeter. You arched beneath him, free hand sliding down to card through his silken hair. “I think your wetnurse half starved you as a babe for how much you latch onto me,” you teased, sighing in bliss as he drew your nipples into his mouth, suckling and working his tongue over them.

“Must have,” he smirked, the stiffened peak of your nipple glossy with his saliva. Finally letting go of your wrist, both his hands lowered to untie the ribbons around your waist so he could tug your smallclothes down with no restraint. He did, and then he gently parted your legs. Between your thighs your sweet little cunt glistened with arousal. He couldn’t tell if his cock swelled to impossible hardness first, or, if his mouth watered first. “Look… at… you…,” he said slowly, possessive eye feasting on the sight of your bared cunny. 

“Aemond…,” you whined as blood rushed to warm your cheeks – the intensity of his gaze made you uncharacteristically self-conscious.

“You are lucky, my dear. Lying to your prince comes with severe punishment. You, by the grace of the Seven, have told the truth,” he said as he lowered to lay on his belly between your legs. He lifted one to gently hook over his shoulder and held the other down, keeping you nice and spread out beneath him. “If you were indeed sleeping when I returned tonight, I intended to wake you in this same manner,” he said as he looked up at you, the outside of his seeing eye crinkling with mischief. 

The warmth in your cheeks spread up to your ears, but before you could say anything in reply your husband dragged his tongue up through your eager folds. You moaned softly at the heat of his mouth, and he moaned at the taste that coated his tongue. He could never have enough of you: he told you often. “Gods- Aem-,” you whispered through shuddered breath.

It was impossible to say if you enjoyed this more, or if he did.

By now Aemond knew what you liked, how you liked it, and knew when to increase or ease his pressure on you. He learned wickedly fast – faster than you discovered your own pleasure some of the time – and strove for perfection, always wanting to be better than those around him. He licked, and lapped, and sucked, losing himself in the unique taste and texture of you. “You'd like to be woken up like this, wouldn't you?” He asked, slowly kissing and licking over your bud as to not push you too far too fast.

The thought alone made you squirm against him; cunny seeking to grind against the plushness of his mouth. “Y..yes,” you answered quietly.

“Mmm… I knew you would. I will have to try it one day. Licking and stroking this sweet cunt just enough to not wake you.”

You clenched at the idea knowing he meant it. “My cruel prince…”

He laughed lowly before delving into you again, tongue disappearing into your clenching center. Even around that little muscle you were tight. You always fit around him so perfectly. The sounds he made between your thighs were lewd. Dirty. Any other time or place you'd feel filthy. But with it being Aemond, the lasciviousness of it nudged you to the edge of your pleasure. One of his hands pushed up the front of your body and he palmed over a breast, squeezing the mound inside his palm. A finger of the other pressed into your soaking core while he lavished your clit with tongue and lip alike.

“I'm gonna– ‘m gonna..,” you moaned, whimpering as you rolled and ground your pelvis in time with all of his motions, seeking out more and more even though he was already giving you everything he knew you needed. Both hands flung down to his head and you shamelessly held him right there, fingers flexing and tugging at his hair. 

Aemond moaned against you. Early in your marriage you discovered his scalp was exceedingly sensitive and you loved using it to your advantage; whether he purred, or moaned, or whimpered.

“Let go, sweet wife. Give me your pleasure,” he mumbled against you, suckling gently on your pearl while working two fingers in and out of you, rubbing that small hidden patch of nerves with perfect precision. He squeezed your breast harder, pinching at your nipple, and the combination of everything became too much. You came undone against him. Orgasm washed over you in waves that left you weightless; the sounds of your release sent your husband rutting against the mattress.

“So good.. fuck that all felt so good,” you babbled down at him; heavy eyes darkened by lust and sparkling in adoration. 

Your praise sent Aemond's desire blazing to an inferno and he didn't even let you catch your breath before he kicked out of his pants and lined his cock up with you. “Such a needy greedy girl. Wet all day… humping my face like a bitch in heat… begging to be stuffed full by her husband again,” he growled lowly, pushing the underside of your leg up so it squished against your chest. “And all of that for me,” he said firmly, darkly, grinning down at you like a hawk swooping a bunny. With a flex of his slim, lean hips, he pushed into you.

You gasped, squeezing at his strong arms as he plunged into you. His name rolled off your tongue in yet another stuttering moan, eyelids fluttering with the force of his intrusion. You nodded wordlessly, looking up at him with desperate eyes.

“Mine… all fucking mine,” he said in that same tone, punctuating his words with long, firm thrusts. “My perfect wife. My wet cunt. Mine to fill, and use, and fill again.”

The force of his thrusts sent your tits bouncing. You cried out in bliss, your first orgasm making your body extra sensitive to his slamming hips. He drove home again, and again, and again, his balls slapping against you with every plunge. “Yes.. yes.. yes,” you babbled.

“So lovely like this. So beautiful when I fuck you. If only you could see yourself all dazed out on my cock,” his angle and pace changed and now he bullied that inner patch of nerves with each forward push and outward pull.

You wrapped your legs around his slender waist and pulled him deeper into you. “Right there,” you panted, nodding, sheened with sweat and glowing with delight. 

Both his hands squeezed and held onto your breasts, fucking you just as you asked him to. “Come with me. I want your cunny sucking my seed all the way to your pretty little womb,” he muttered, clearly holding himself back as long as he could.

That's all it took for you to find peak. Euphoria washed over you in glorious waves of ecstasy, making your body shudder and tremble around him. Your walls flexed and convulsed around his twitching cock in a visceral plea to finish deep inside.

Aemond didn't stand a chance. He groaned out your name and filled you passed the brim. Slowly his seed oozed out from around the base of his length while he kept it buried inside you, heavy drips of your combined essence sliding down the swell of your ass. You panted together, foreheads pressed together, and only began to pull apart once pleasure spent its course in both your bodies.

“You are the most enchanting thing,” Aemond whispered to you with a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Hold me as I sleep?” You asked with heavy eyes, already feeling tiredness creep over your senses.

He smiled, the expression intimately sweet, as he moved to lay on his side beside you. “Of course,” he answered, pulling you flush against him. With another quiet smirk he lifted your leg to rest over his waist and lowered a hand between your bodies. Carefully, he slipped two fingers into you. “Shh…,” he hushed when you made a noise of discomfort. “Only to keep my seed where it belongs.”

You blushed but didn't say, or do, anything in protest. “Sweet dreams, my prince.”

“Sleep well, my lady.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main Taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @aemondtarqaryens @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

Aemond Taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @aemonddtargaryen @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998

[macfrog]

Just me up at 2am wondering how many times Joel replays that wedding hotel room night in his head 🤔

warnings: breeding kink, pregnancy, m masturbation, desperately horny joel word count: ~600 words

i think he thinks about that entire night and wonders what the fuck even happened there. the way the world tilted ever so slightly the moment he pulled open his front door and saw her on his porch – sunlight twinkling from her earrings, satin draped over her breasts in pale waves; the shameless flirting under the cover of rosé wine and beer, string bulbs and rainbow disco lights.

i mean, one minute he’s waving his newspaper at her like a grumpy old man, counting down the seconds until she’s skipping back over to her own fucking porch – the next he’s caging her against the bed in her hotel room, thinking if he doesn’t fuck her here n now, he might tear the entire place apart.

between the wedding and three weeks later? yeah, he might think about it – just a little.

might think about her dress, the shape of her body beneath it. the way it fell from her hips – just slipped down over her curves and pooled at her feet like venus emerging from the ocean. might think about her naked body: how, until that night, he’d only ever wondered about it – stealing sideways glances over the fence at her little shorts and tight vest tops. but now…now, he knows what she looks like. he’s seen her undress for him.

and i bet he thinks about her soft gasp when he first pushed inside, after she finally caught her breath again; feeling the size of him inside her, how he knew she didn’t expect him to be so big and so fucking hard for her. how much he had to focus on not coming within five thrusts, she was so fucking tight.

bet he thinks about it in the shower, one hand against the tiled wall, the other jacking himself furiously. mouthing the words he whispered in her ear as their bodies rocked together: how good she is for him, how pretty she looks all full of his cock. bet he still hears the echo of her moans, the sweet little laughs lilting from her lips.

and when he finds out she’s pregnant? shit.

when he’s watching the evidence of what they did grow right before his eyes? her body blooming: stomach swelling, breasts growing, her cheeks plumping and her skin glowing? knows that he’s the one who changed her forever? knows that it’s his baby she’s growing?

sure. he probably thinks about that part a normal amount, too.

and i bet he thinks about how he shouldn’t be thinking about it. about her.

not when he’s sure she wouldn’t look at him ever again, if not for their parallel driveways and the parallel lines on that pregnancy test. not when he’s trying to act his fucking age, date someone actually appropriate for a forty-eight-year-old with backache and still two decades off retirement.

but it makes it worse – the fact he shouldn’t be doing it. shouldn’t be relieving the heavy weight between his legs in the morning with the memory of her lips closing around his fingers, playing on a reel behind his eyelids.

shouldn’t be staring into space while he’s driving, hearing her giggles once they’d finished; feeling her nails as she drew shapes on his sweat-sticky chest. shouldn’t be thinking about her wandering around with his baby inside of her; her body growing ‘n changing all ‘cause of what they did together.

he shouldn’t be. he shouldn’t he shouldn’t he shouldn’t but jesus, he is. you fucking know he is.

dear reader, joel has absolutely wrecked the tape, the number of times he’s replayed that night. the vhs player is smoking.

[strawberrystepmom]

izuku x f!reader. reader is referred to as wife, he is referred to as husband, reader has a defined and briefly mentioned career. wife guy deku compilation indeed.

Hey, have you seen this?

Your screen lights up with a text message from one of your closest friends, another message with a link to a video following quickly after and you tilt your head to the side at your desk reading the title of the video.

“Deku Wife Guy Compilation”

It makes you chuckle to see these terms stitched together, something that would probably not make much sense to your blissfully offline-as-he-can-be husband, but you understand what it means and press the link to open the video. It takes a moment to load and you jiggle your foot impatiently as it does, abandoning what you were last working on to focus as he comes onto the rectangle screen.

“My wife is the best,” filters through your phone speakers as clear as day and you smile despite yourself, the familiar butterflies you get every time you look at him blooming beneath your ribs.

“First of all, I want to thank my wife.”

“My wife is the true savior in our household, she’s a doctor…”

“My beautiful ____, my wife, my heart.”

“None of this would be possible without my wife so please give her a hand.”

It’s a three minute video stitching together every time he has mentioned you in victory speeches and press interviews and the like and it makes you wonder what people could be saying. You’re no stranger to running into the stray hater online yet you scroll down to the comments section, eyes widening when you see it filled with nothing but admiration for the strong foundation of love your marriage is built upon.

iluvchargebolt: man, i hope i’m loved like this someday :’)

momospantyliner: The way his eyes light up when he says her name at 0:48…beautiful.

Allmightisalright07: Reminds me of how i used to talk about my wife when she was still with us. They are certainly soulmates.

In comparison to other comment sections you’ve scanned in the past, this one makes you feel very warm in comparison and you feel the need to look away after being perceived by so many people who don’t even know you. Izuku’s love is so evident for you even strangers see it from a mile away, they can hear it in the soft way his tongue caresses your name like he’s kissing you every time he says it.

You put your phone down and turn back to your work, letting the video play over the speaker just to hear his voice when your screen lights up again and vibrates on top of your desk. Another text from the same friend, another link.

There are 10 of these omg

Another link pops up on your screen in a blue bubble, this time to a playlist containing videos in the same fashion as the first. Deku Wifeguy Compilation 1-10. Giggling to yourself, you press play and let the playlist run, each video growing in length with the shortest at 3 minutes and the longest at just over 10, your eyes widening realizing that he loves you so much there are videos worth of him simply stating it over and over and over again.

The same compulsion that led you to check the comments section on the first video takes over and you decide to pause the playlist and read, scanning the comments for anything you could potentially use as fodder to be angry about later.

shotopleasereturnmycalls: damn…i really am single.

Redriotsarmpithair9680: Love like this is rare. So glad our beacon of hope has a safe place to land after he’s done keeping us safe <3

You don’t dare to go any further lest you do see something you won’t like, keeping the video paused and locking your phone to set it aside and reflect. It’s strange to live a life so public and private all at once, hiding some parts and sharing the others, but you’re grateful the most consistent thing about Izuku is that he has never wanted to do anything but shine his light on you, to make you the spotlight of his world and everything about him.

Abruptly you pick your phone up and slide the screen upward, the messages app filling your screen. You click out of the thread with your friend and into the one with Izuku and you type out three simple words, the ones that you feel all day every day.

You: I love you.

Miles away, he looks down at his phone screen and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, scrunching his nose, freckles barely visible thanks to the low light and bad angle but it’s all him - silly and sweet and sincere. He sends it off with the three simple words he feels about you in return, all day every day.

Izuku: I love you too, my perfect wife.

[forlorn-crows]

crow just tell me, tell me that mountain is not the somno enthusiast ever. that's right you can't!!! cause he is and I'll absolutely die on this hill

his big dick may be desperately rattling the bars of it's enclosure and losing when mount's awake but when big boy's asleep it takes over!!! he's soooo reactive but also a dead sleeper and oh how he loves waking up with sticky pants, just that delicious little sprinkle of humiliation in it all

I dunno imo he just is the somno boy, don't ya think?

mountain absolutely has a humiliation kink. plus, king of cumming in his pants, cumming untouched, and wet dreams? makes him the perfect target for some somno fun. not sure if anyone remembers "stuff that grows from mountains head", but that little ficlet of dew whispering sweet nothings just to watch the snapdragons grow, hinted that he likes to get a little filthy sometimes too . . .

dew influencing mountain's wet dream w/a side of somno handjobs under the cut, feat. mentions of how hot cumulus is

happy birthday, tee hee ♡

Dew loves watching him like this. Expressive and unabashed in his sleep, unaware of anything except the fantasies playing out in his mind. His dick taking over his self control and bending him to the will of pleasure. 

Plus he’s cute and fun to mess with. Can’t blame a ghoul for wanting to play a little. 

“What’s goin’ on in there big guy? Hm?” Dew cards his hand through Mountain’s hair. He’s fallen asleep with his head in Dew’s lap, pleasantly warm and lulled by the soft rock record Dew had put on. Middle of their conversation too, the goof, but the fire ghoul won’t hold him to it.

Mountain’s only response is a small, high-pitched noise, paired with a twitch of his fingers. His cock twitches too, already tenting in his linen pants. Dew wants nothing more than to yank them down and expose that beautiful length, watch it sway and bob as he gets harder and harder. 

Later, though; he wants to have a little fun first.

“Let me guess . . . Rain?” The fire ghoul waits for a response, but isn’t granted anything that signals his guess was correct.

“No? Hm. Swiss?” Still nothing. It’s a quick round of Guess Who? before he reaches his answer: “Lus?”

Mountain’s mouth drops open in a soft sigh, cock twitching again. There’s a little wet spot on the front of his pants now, and his ears twitch as Dew laughs knowingly. 

“She’s got you wrapped around her curls, doesn’t she, Mount?” Dew sighs with a smile, petting at the freshly-sprouting justicia blooms around the base of one horn. Pretty fuchsia petals the same color as her favorite lipstick.

“Lucifer, she’s so gorgeous, huh? Wonder what you’re dreaming about . . . maybe she’s got you worshiping her tits, suckin’ on ‘em just how she likes . . .”

The earth ghoul lets out a throaty moan, top lip twitching to show a flash of teeth and tongue. Dew hums and traces along his mouth with his thumb. Back and forth, back and forth; sliding the pad of it along the tip of his tongue with each pass. Mountain’s mouth twitches again, and Dew is eager to slip his thumb inside. Watching as his lips close around the digit automatically, as they have so many times before, and he starts to suck. It’s ever so gentle, and a little bit sloppy, but it still makes Dew go all fuzzy inside. 

“Yeah, bet it’s just like that,” he continues. “Sucking on her nipples until she gets all wet. Bet she calls you a good boy while you do it.”

Mountain huffs a moan around his finger. His leg kicks out, momentum rolling him fully onto his back, limbs sprawling out every which way as the true amount of his arousal is exposed to Dew: his cock is absolutely pressed to the seam of his pants, leaking into the fabric enough to rival a water ghoul. 

“Fuck you’re as wet as she’d be, aren’t you,” the fire ghoul breathes. Mountain’s head lolls to the side, and his thumb slips out of his mouth, a line of drool following his fingernail. “Drooling all over her while she gets on your lap. Probably wouldn’t even have to take you to get you to bust, she could just rub her cunt all over you and you’d be creaming yourself, wouldn’t you?”

“Huh–uhh,” Mountain groans, all raspy on his exhale. Dew can see his eyes roll behind his eyelids, no doubt picturing the scene to a T. He makes a noise of agreement and smooths his hands down Mountain’s chest, gripping in a way Cumulus might, making sure to press the tips of his claws right in above his nipples. Imitating a pretty manicure pressed into his pecs. 

“So pretty when she grabs you. Pushing her tits together with her elbows and her hair floats around her like a goddess. Callin’ you honey and love and baby.”

The earth ghoul bucks up into nothing, hands slowly fisting into the sheets beneath him. Whimpering when Dew digs his hands in just a little more.

“Bet your balls get so big when she bounces on that cock.” Dew’s own voice is getting a little husky now, dick chubbing up in interest under Mountain’s head. “Fuck, and she feels so good. So warm and wet and you just wanna grab her hips and never let go . . .”

“Wan’ . . . oh,” Mountain mutters, voice pitching up at the end into something breathy and feminine and Satanas does Dew want to hear him make it again. 

“Oh yeah? You make pretty noises like that for her?” He slowly slides out from underneath Mountain’s head, laying it down gently onto the mattress before shuffling closer to his lower half. Dew glances up the length of him, taking in the rucked-up shirt, the hands kneading at the blankets, chest rising and falling a little faster now. Breath coming out in short puffs from his slack mouth, every other one accented with a sweet, quiet noise—almost like a dog yipping in its dreams. His hips follow his dick as it twitches upwards, thrusting into some imaginary curvy body. 

“There you go, make sure you fuck her real good,” the fire ghoul teases, already pressing at that wet spot on the front of his pants. Groaning when he feels how hot he’s gotten there. 

He’s fitting to burst at any moment, really. And Dew would very much like to see that. 

“Wonder if she’s seen you like this,” he continues, tugging on the waistband. “All hot and bothered and you don’t even know it. Does she know how cute you get when you wake up all sticky?”

Dew gets his pants down just far enough to free his length, cursing when it throbs just from the exposure. “Fuck, those pretty nails wrapped around this big dick . . . fucking hells, Mount.”

Whatever hands-off objective he had before disintegrates when Mountain full-body groans and his cock spurts out another bead of pre—Dew can’t resist that, he just can’t. He wraps his hand around him and strokes him root to tip, biting back his own noise when Mountain visibly shudders. 

“Ffuhh . . . mm li’ . . . tha’, gon’ . . . “ He’s babbling syllables again, getting louder the longer Dew jerks him off. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum for her?” he goads, watching his face contort in flashes of pleasure. Feeling his cock get even fuller in his hand. “Shit, fill her up so good it’ll all drip out of her when she sits on your face and you get to suck on her perfect little—”

With a low groan, he’s squirting onto his belly in bursts of white, toes curling and his eyes rolling all the way back into his skull. 

“Oh, baby,” Dew groans, his own cock throbbing between his legs. He just keeps going, wringing out shot after shot until it’s dribbling down his knuckles, the earth ghoul unconsciously mewling as he starts to reach overstimulation. More drool running out of the corner of his mouth as his head is tossed to the side.

“Fuck, Mount,” Dew mutters. He lets his cock flop back down against his stomach, licking the cum from his fingers as he watches the bigger ghoul sigh shakily and melt back into the sheets. Boneless and limp like nothing ever happened.

But Dew’s certainly not done with him yet. 

“Wakey-wakey,” he lilts, pulling Mountain’s pants further down his legs so he can situate himself between them. Smoothing his hands up his thighs to grab at his hips while simultaneously licking a hot stripe from balls to tip, sending a quick zing of heat through his palms to rouse him from slumber. 

Mountain half snuffles, half snorts himself awake, blinking up at the ceiling like he can’t quite remember how he got there. “Wha . . .” He cranes his neck up to glance down at Dew, happily licking up the cum from the hair around the base of his cock with a gaze full of mischief. The earth ghoul nearly chokes as his brain catches up to his body, eyes going wide as he presses up onto his elbows. “Satanas, Dew, unholy fuck.”

“What’d you dream about, big boy?” he teases, suckling briefly on the head of his softening cock. 

“H-oh shit—”

“Yeah?” He kisses back down the shaft, grinning at the heat rising to Mountain’s face with every whimper. “Wanna have some more fun?"

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[rutilation]

This opening is replete with symbolism. 

Flower language has been a recent fascination of mine.

Do you want to make my new hyperfixation your problem? If so, then let's take a deep dive into the first opening before the new one airs tomorrow.

Before I start, here are a couple of things to keep in mind.

While the use of flower language in this show mostly lines up with Japanese hanakotoba, there are still a number of flowers here that hold particular significance within Chinese culture, and thus have additional meanings that don't line up with those from Japan.  I’ll be mentioning them alongside the Japanese meanings where I deem it relevant.

The following will contain light spoilers of content from the novels/manga which has not been animated at the time of writing. I'll try to be vague and sparing with it, but there are a few flowers I can't discuss without them.

Past the title card, the opening begins with eight blooming flowers dancing through the frame in rapid succession.  These represent the storylines covered by the first cour of the anime in order of appearance, and each can be found in the episode(s) they signify.  From the top:

Rhododendron: This plant is all over the first two episodes, so I'm going to cover its appearances before delving into its meaning. In episode one, there are two shots of the buds of this plant, one as Lihua gives birth, and then again as the doctor examines her baby. They're finally shown in full bloom as one of her ladies disregards the branch Maomao used to warn of the toxic makeup. In the following episode, Gyokuyou has seemingly taken a liking to the flower that saved her daughter's life, and a few clusters can be seen in a vase during several shots before Maomao uses them as an example of a seemingly innocuous plant that could cause accidental poisoning, and indeed, if you look closely at the background during the scene with the soldiers, you can see what appear to be rhododendron shrubs. There are actually quite a few different possible meanings for the many granular varieties of Rhododendrons/azaleas.  Luckily, the characters said the name of the plant out loud for me: shakunage.  So, this is Rhododendron subg. Hymenanthes.  In hanakotoba it means dignity and majesty, but also, on account of its poison, danger and caution. Those last two meanings clearly line up with its ominous usage in these first episodes, growing and maturing as the babies grew sicker. But in addition to their function as a warning of danger, I think there's a case to be made that they also represent Gyokuyou herself. As I stated earlier, she starts keeping them after the first episode, and Hongniang later starts growing the closely-related azaleas in the jade pavilion as well. As for how its meanings apply to her, Gyokuyou is regal, magnanimous, and never loses her composure (unless it's at Jinshi's expense lol,) but she's also described by Gaoshun as shrewd and cautious, being unwilling to hire any lady she doesn't absolutely trust, and constantly gleaning information to send back to her family. These all fit with the dual meanings of rhododendron. In Chinese culture, rhododendrons and azaleas represent womanhood and passion, as well as home and a desire for homecoming.

Cotton rose: A type of hibiscus, this represents Fuyou, decorating both her person and her chambers in episode 3.  It means 'delicate beauty' and 'graceful lover.' I think these are referring to both her skill in dancing, as well as her affectation of frailty and neuroticism. As far as I could dig up, its unique tendency to change color based on the time of day doesn't have particular bearing on its meaning in either Chinese or Japanese culture, but the story itself uses it as a metaphor for Fuyou hiding her passion, will, and cunning behind a wallflower exterior.

Balloon flower:  In hanakotoba, it represents undying love, sincerity, and grace. These grow in the crystal pavilion, adorn the iconography of Lihua's furniture, and likely inform her blue and violet color scheme. Its last two descriptors gesture towards Lihua's style and personality. She's elegant and staid, but she also takes everything quite seriously, and wears her heart on her sleeve. As for the undying love element, I see that as alluding to her love for her son, her agony at his passing, and her hopes of reclaiming that love again through having another child.

Violet: This one actually tripped me up for the longest time.  The flowers in the opening looked like hostas to me, but no matter how closely I looked at the backgrounds in this show, I couldn’t find anything along those lines.  Eventually though, I caught on that these must be the violets from episode five, even if they’re a different color from those shown in the episode.  And also droopier.  Anyway, violets mean humility, sincerity, and ‘a little bit of happiness.’  In the episode proper, they are crushed underfoot as Maomao narrates about the lengths she had to go to keep herself safe while growing up in the red-light district, illustrating how even the modest aspirations of an ordinary peasant are in perpetual danger in such a cutthroat environment.

Chinese aster: Daisies and asters are my least favorite flowers to identify.  They all look the same.  As such, I’m a little less confident about this one, but I think it’s a Chinese aster.  The leaves and buds look similar, and the context in which it appears in episode six suits its meaning.  As Lishu’s ladies disparage her so-called pickiness, a shot of this flower opens the episode.  While the Chinese aster’s meaning changes based on color, white in particular means ‘please believe me.’ I think that speaks for itself

Toad lily:  This appears twice during episode eight, where Maomao gets drawn into the mystery of an attempted murder during her vacation.  Toad lilies symbolize hidden thoughts and intentions, alluding both to the possible conspiracy on the part of the women of the brothel, and to the fact that Maomao will never really know the truth of the incident, having to content herself with speculation.

Sacred bamboo: This one is easy to miss, because while the plant is in full bloom in the opening, it’s laden with berries in the show proper.  This is Nandina, a.k.a. the sacred bamboo, a mainstay of autumn and winter floral arrangements in both China and Japan.  It’s considered auspicious, symbolizing a reversal of ill fortune into prosperity--the precise opposite of how it’s presented in episode nine of the show.  There, Maomao fiddles with the plant as she contemplates all the instances she’s seen of good fortune being struck down by tragedy, and the prospect of that same sword of Damocles falling upon her head as well, a harbinger of eucatasrophe being used to symbolize straight catastrophe.  Also worth noting is the fact that the plant is very poisonous, so much so that it has a reputation for killing any birds which try to eat its berries; I think that bit of trivia might be the inspiration behind the decision to ironically invert its lucky image.  In addition to its central appearance in episode nine, it can also be seen in Lishu’s chambers in episode ten, mixed in among the vases of white camellias.

Japanese azalea: These mean passion and steadfastness, alluding, in my view, to Fengming’s devotion towards Ah-duo.  Fun fact: did you know that honey made from toxic azaleas, termed ‘mad honey,’ is sometimes manufactured on purpose?  It’s not super legal in most of the world, but apparently it can be used as a psychedelic.

After this, we see a panning shot of seven flowers, with the top four representing the high-ranking concubines, and the bottom three representing the high-ranking courtesans. While the first set of flowers grew from buds and flew across the screen, this set consists of still images. If I were to hazard a guess as to why, I'd say that it's because those previous flowers were conveying the movement of emergent stories, while these upcoming flowers portray the relatively static personality traits of individual characters. I'm going to tackle these in reverse order, as the first three flowers to appear are somewhat tricky to talk about.

Peony: This flower represents Gyokuyou, and in addition to appearing in her non-diegetic floral backgrounds, it also decorates the tapestries of the jade pavilion. In Chinese culture, peonies are one of, if not the most, important flowers. They represent feminine beauty, pride, honor, renown, wealth, prosperity, high-status, opulence, and a nobility of spirit. They are considered to be the king of flowers, and were historically only permitted to be grown by nobility. All of these superlatives are likely alluding towards Gyokuyou's status as the emperor's favorite consort, with the best shot at becoming empress.

Balloon flower: See above.

Lily-of-the-valley: This means purity, chastity, humility, and 'happiness will come again.' While the first three all seem to fit Lishu on their face, I find myself curious about the fourth meaning. I'm only partway through the third novel, but if this indicates that, at some point in the future, Lishu finally catches a break, then I'll certainly be happy to see it.

Dendrobium: In China, orchids in general are associated with elegance, refinement, and good taste, which fits with Maomao's description of the garnet pavilion as being beautiful in a minimalist sort of way. They also represent the virtues of an ideal gentleman-scholar: integrity, humility, temperance, and nobility. Furthermore, they are considered emblematic of spring; it, along with bamboo, chrysanthemum, and plum blossom, represent the four seasons. Returning to Japanese symbolism, the flower associated with Ah-duo seems to specifically be Dendrobium nobile. Nobile in particular means 'honest and to-the-point' in hanakotoba, likely alluding to Ah-duo's candid personality, and the fact that she is on casual terms with the emperor.

Regarding the final three flowers, the show itself doesn't explicitly tie any one of them to a particular courtesan--their flowers only appear as a group in episode twelve. But, by contemplating their meanings, and with some help from the characters' wiki pages, we can make some educated guesses.

Yulan Magnolia: This one, I'm guessing, represents Joka. On one hand, I'm kind of dumping her with this because the other two flowers just seem to fit the other two courtesans better, but its attributes nonetheless seem to accord what we know of her character--which admittedly isn't very much. In hanakotoba the yulan magnolia means nobility, sublimity and a love of nature. In China, its pretty similar: purity, nobility, dignity. It's also worth noting that they're commonly planted around Buddhist temples in China, and have been for many centuries, granting them an air of spiritual profundity. Joka is said to be aloof and cold, which is part of her appeal as a courtesan. While chrysanthemums and plum blossoms have a warmer aspect to their meanings, the loftiness of magnolia hews more closely to her characterization. Then there's the matter of her name, which is apparently a stage name. It translates to 'Lady Ka' (or 'Hua,' if you want to go with the Mandarin pronunciation.) Now, the 'ka' in her name is written as 華, and in the story, that character is only permitted to be used by the emperor and his family. So, for her to use it, even as a stage name, is a pretty bold pretense to nobility.

Chrysanthemum: In Japan, chrysanthemums are associated with nobility and the imperial family. In China, they are associated with longevity, endurance, and vitality, on account of their long-lasting blooms that persist late into autumn. I think this is most likely to be Pairin's flower. She's one of the few courtesans who's in her line of work because she wants to be, and is flourishing in an environment where others are desperate and debt-ridden. That covers 'vitality,' and Lihaku can attest to her endurance, if you know what I mean... Moving on, its mentioned in the novels that she's actually in her thirties, but still looks quite young, again harkening to the chrysanthemum's persistence.

As far as symbolism is concerned, chrysanthemums do seem to fit her character better than magnolias. But, something that gives me pause is her name, which means 'white bell,' on account of yulan magnolias being white and having a bell-like shape. I still think it's most likely that the chrysanthemum, and not the magnolia, belongs to her, but it was too notable a coincidence to not at least mention.

Plum Blossom: We can safely assume this one refers to Meimei, as her name is written with the character for plum. As plum trees are among the earliest to bloom each year, and will even bloom while snow still covers their branches, both China and Japan associate them with resilience, hope, inner-strength, and renewal. We don't know much about Meimei either, but my impression of her is that she seems to be the nicest and most even-keeled of Maomao's sisters.

Following this parade of showy flowers, we finally glimpse the emblem of our protagonist, Oxalis corniculata, the creeping wood sorrel, downcast and huddled amidst the underbrush of a forest. Whereas the other flowers we've seen thus far are primarily ornamental (even if some are also edible/medicinal,) wood sorrel is herbaceous and weedy, and is unlikely to grace any vases, wreaths, or arrangements. If it were spotted in a noble's garden, it would likely be uprooted, but to the peasant who finds it growing in a ditch, it's a tasty snack.

In hanakotoba, wood sorrel means joy, 'shining heart,' and 'a mother's love.' All three descriptors, I believe, are relevant to Maomao's character. Despite her flat affect, Maomao has a strong passion and sense of joie de vivre driving her through life. Those further along in either the novels or the manga will recognize 'a mother's love' as (somewhat ironically) gesturing towards her complicated relationship with her mother. As for 'shining heart,' I think that will become apparent as we go further through the opening.

But, before we do that, I'd like to take a moment to examine the moments when wood sorrel appears in the show itself. Thus far, by my recollection, it has appeared in episodes one, three, and twelve. The opening shot of the first episode is of a wood sorrel, informing the viewer in no uncertain terms that this is Maomao's flower, (in case the opening was too subtle.) In the third episode, several wood sorrels dot the field where Fuyou sits with her lover, symbolizing how Maomao has aided and protected them. In episode twelve, a single wood sorrel is tucked inside a lavish bouquet of her sister's flowers, a visual gag paralleling them fussing and fawning over her.

Returning to the opening, Maomao is shown contemplating a subtle glow in her closed hands while a reflected, sunlit version of herself glances back at her. Then, as all the previous flowers fall away, as Maomao casts the light up into the air, its glow illuminating her face, the wood sorrel finally stands upright, and blooms in full.

Now is a good time to mention a relevant characteristic of creeping wood sorrel: it only blooms in direct sunlight. When crowded by other plants, it curls in on itself, closing both its flower and leaves. This serves as a clear metaphor for Maomao's personality; under most circumstances, she seeks to be invisible and unobtrusive, but when she's in her element, she commands attention and respect.

Following this, we have her magical girl-esque transformation sequence, with her outstretched hands forming the shape of a blooming flower as she dances through a whirl of yellow wood sorrel petals. She then bows down in imitation of the flower, taking the light back into her chest (there's that shining heart I mentioned earlier,) as she dissolves into the stoic, unassuming version of herself once more, closing out the opening. (Jinshi who?)

I'd like to end this analysis with an observation. While the real wood sorrel exists at the perpetual mercy of outside forces, Maomao is not merely reacting to a light source that exists beyond her control. The light exists within her, and she chooses when it will shine down for all to see, and when she will hide it away in the depths of her heart. To those who've gotten this far, thank you so much for reading.

[adastrael]

Cod: mw ii characters as type of kisses (pt.2)

Pairing(s): gender neutral reader / simon "ghost" riley, rodolfo "rudy" parra, alejandro vargas, valeria garza

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: nothing that I know of, this is just fluff

A/N: here is part two! I have another (last) one in the works, I hope you like this as much as the previous one <3

Simon "Ghost" Riley - "hand kiss"

Being in a relationship with someone who had a difficult time opening up wasn't an easy thing, and if you were a lesser person, you would have given up long ago. But knowing your love was reciprocated — even if not in a flashy way in front of the general public — made the hardships well worth it.

Gently scooping up a little sapling while humming under your breath, you were enjoying a calm Monday afternoon. Well into the month of May, the weather has been perfect for gardening for a while now, and you didn't waste the time you had to tend to your little oasis in front of the house. The various plants have been growing for years and the garden was something you were really proud of; fruits, vegetables and flowers were all healthily blooming in this time of the year, making the path leading to the front door inviting and beautiful.

Lost in your own bubble, just thinking about where your next pumpkin seeds should be planted, you only perked up when you heard a vehicle on the street. It was usually a quiet neighborhood — you lived there for a good reason — aside from a few people who tended to come and go during the day, so the noise of a car always drew your attention. Hearing it slow down, then an engine being cut off, you finally turned your head after putting a flower down from your hands. Spotting a familiar black SUV parked in front of the house, you couldn't contain a beaming smile stretching across your face. Quickly getting up, you made your way over to the car, skipping a few of your steps on the way.

"Simon!"

As soon as the figure stepped out from behind the shade of the vehicle, you were throwing yourself into his arms.

"You're home early!"

"I am."

His rumbling voice was the same you were used to, and it didn't fail to make you feel comforted.

Standing in the driveway in his arms, it quickly became difficult to hold your tears back and not let your feelings get the better of you. You liked to think you've always dealt well with his absence, but every time he came home, it was nearly impossible to avoid becoming emotional. You would have thought that after all this time it didn't have such a strong effect on you, but Ghost never failed to bring your deepest feelings out — often with simply his presence.

As he lowered his head and hid his still covered face into the crook of your neck, you wound your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, hoping to convey what you felt. Knowing he needed a few minutes staying like that — just as much as you did — you let yourself fully relax and enjoy being in his hold again.

Not much later, he reluctantly let you go from the secure embrace, gently raking his eyes over your form.

"Come on, let's go inside."

Giving a slight shake of his head, Ghost reached for your hand that was now hanging by your side.

"Simon, my hands are still dirty!"

"Don't care." - came his murmur, and he lifted your right hand to where his mouth was still hidden beneath his mask.

Your breath got caught in your throat a little; no matter how many times he did this — always, when he greeted you — it still made you feel special and appreciated in a way no one else could. You knew it was his way of saying "I love you", and if that didn't make you feel even warmer inside, you don't know what did.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra - "routine kiss"

There was something endearing about the way he subconsciously presented his cheek for you whenever you leaned in to put a kiss on his face. Often, he was busy doing something work related even at home, so greetings or goodbyes could be swift and hurried. It didn't bother you much however; when it mattered, he was always more than ready to show you how much he appreciated you.

You've been scribbling words on a post it note for a few days now, making a grocery list for later when you would have time to go and shop for the needed ingredients. During the second half of the week you've waited, knowing some of the missing items would appear on the paper sooner or later — your boyfriend would add them when he suddenly remembered something missing from the house. So far, he's only scratched one additional thing on it during the time he's been spending home lately, so you decided come Monday morning, it would be the perfect time to go out. He would be going to work later that day, so maybe you could even make him breakfast before he disappeared for God knows how long again.

You weren't angry or annoyed by that anymore, getting used to how different your daily (or weekly) routines were. It still wasn't rare for you to subconsciously bring the topic up when he was home though, and the poor soul never failed to apologize every time. You had to reassure him you didn't mind and you knew how important work was for him, and that it just accidentally slipped from your lips — old habits die hard as they say.

The upcoming Monday morning, you got up and got ready to go out and buy a few things as planned. Of course, your boyfriend, Rodolfo was already awake, so you couldn't leave without chastising him for being up early on a day he could have been still snoozing in the comfortable bed you two shared.

"I wanted to take another look at these reports before going, mi corazón."

"Of course you did."

Sitting at the dinner table, all kinds of papers laid out in front of him, he looked professional already, even though it was early enough for you to feel drowsy with sleep. He's always been quick to get into the working setting, that much was true, so you just smiled a little. Thanks to the high wooden surface, Rodolfo was just at a comfortably reachable lever for you to lean close and put a kiss on his cheek. As if he sensed it coming, not even looking up from the words on the page, he turned his head a little, angling the left side of his face towards you a little more. It made you smile immediately, even knowing he didn't even notice he was doing it.

"I will be back soon."

"Alright. Be safe!"

Later that day, when he finally had to leave for work, you got much more than a small peck back in exchange as an apology from him. You would make sure to make up for the lost time later.

Alejandro Vargas - "comforting kiss"

If you had to summarize why he was such a good partner, you would have certainly been in trouble. From his habit to check on everyone dear to him, to the way he could make you laugh just by pulling a silly face; he was really in touch with his emotions, and even more with the ones' close to him. He always radiated warmth and a positive energy, and it was hard not to feel similarly joyful in his company. Even on your worst days, he was there to lift your mood up, even when you didn't ask him to.

It was pretty late when you managed to crawl out of the comfort of your bed. Having woken up multiple times during the night for one reason and another, you were grumpy and had no motivation to do anything now that it was finally morning. Unfortunately, duty called, and the housework wasn't going to do itself. So, cursing under your breath, you clambered out of the bedroom and went downstairs to at least get a cup of coffee before facing the challenges of the day. There would be a few, because the past two or so days were filled with work of other nature, so you really needed any extra energy you could get.

Entering the kitchen, you were met with the sight of your husband. He was facing you backwards, doing something on the counter while quietly muttering under his breath — probably not to wake you. When he heard you audibly yawn in the doorway, he swiveled around with a bright smile to greet you.

"Buenos días mi vida."

"Morning."

You never understood how he was so chipper in the morning, but it wasn't an annoying or bad thing; his enthusiasm was contagious, no matter the time of day.

You could feel a little smile forming on your lips and already feeling slightly better, you made your way over to the counter to pour yourself some coffee. Thankfully a dose has been cooling for some time in the jug, so you could comfortably make a cup and start drinking it. Alejandro, who was just quietly watching the whole time, now stepped in front of you, sneaking his hands around your waist, paying attention not to make you spill your beverage.

"How did you sleep?"

"Rough. Kept waking up."

"Sorry to hear that. Maybe I can make you feel better?"

He was wearing one of his cheeky grins again, and you knew he was thinking about trouble. It was clear he was just joking though, the tone and the mirth in his eyes were enough giveaway.

"I have to do the housework first. The dishes, folding clothes, vacuuming.."

"Amor, I already did the first two."

Looking into the sink, you noticed now that he was right. In your morning haze, you didn't pay enough attention, seems like.

"Sorry. Just tired."

Flashing him an embarrassed smile, you finished the rest of your coffee in one go. Squaring your shoulders and letting out a deep sigh, you put the cup down and mentally prepared yourself for the upcoming tasks. Slipping from his hold, you set off in the direction of the living room where the vacuuming was waiting for you.

"Hey, listen."

Reaching for your arm, Alejandro pulled you back gently, turning you to face him again.

"You know we can just do all of that together right? Or we could go upstairs, cuddle while you let me read to you, and we could simply do everything later."

His offer was promising for sure. Some more time to rest was very tempting, and you knew that by his side, maybe sleep would claim you once again — hopefully, this time peacefully. Unfortunately or not, you were stubborn, and it wasn't that easy to spoil your plans that once you made your mind up about.

"I can't, this needs to be done as soon as possible."

"Come on cariño, you can just leave it. You need this more. And I would be lonely in our bed without you by my side."

As usual, he knew he could easily win you over. Who were you to object when he made such good points?

"Fine. But we are doing everything later."

"Alright."

Flashing you a satisfied smile, Alejandro leaned down to kiss you. If you still had anything troubling your mind, it left immediately; his lips were soft and warm against you, and as you let the tension — that you didn't know you had — leave your body, he pulled you closer to himself, rubbing soft circles into your back. You were still amazed by how he always knew exactly what you needed, even when you weren't sure yourself. As the fairytales say: "One true kiss was enough".

Valeria Garza - "quick kiss"

Having such high authority as she did, it was essential for her to keep a strong and harsh facade in front of everyone. At first, understandably you weren't any exception, but it wasn't long before she allowed you to see a different side of her, one that let you know how much she appreciated you.

Still groggy with sleep, you reluctantly turned in bed to face the bathroom door. A muted light creeped into the darker room, indicating the presence of someone behind the door (if the careful noises weren't enough). The idea to have the two areas connected came shortly before moving together, and it wasn't hard to agree on the purchase, knowing both of your preferences aligned. Neither of you regretted it, not even when sometimes it cut one of your resting times short — like right now.

Hearing the lock click and the door open, you slowly sat up, rubbing at your eyes in hopes it would clear up the sleepy fog in your mind. Luckily, to a degree it did, and when a figure was already approaching the bed, you could think more clearly than before.

Valeria was already in her work clothes, and you knew she just got ready to leave for the day. It wasn't hard making out the silhouette of her uniform, and as she got closer to the bed, you could smell the perfume you bought for her previous birthday on her. It made a little smile curl on your lips, and as if mirroring you, her expression turned softer when looking down at you.

"Leaving already?"

"Sorry amor, you know I can't let them run the place without me."

Chuckling a little, you reached for her hand which she easily let you move. Linking your fingers together a little clumsily, you gazed up at her again, a smile still present on your face.

"I plan to cook your favorite tonight."

"I will hurry home then."

Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to your lips, then gently slipped her hand out of yours. Stepping over to the nightstand, she picked up her phone and a bag from the floor, then casting another loving look at your form, she left the room, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

You waited a few minutes to hear the sound of her keys jingling, then as the quiet sweeped back into the house, you let your body fall back into the soft covers. You knew it was difficult for her to be gentle after the years of hardships, but it was okay; she was trying, and Valeria always found a way to let you know how much she loved you with the little things. And if you joked to yourself later that she would take care of herself, if only to come back to a home cooked meal, you had a hard time taking yourself seriously.

__

Translations:

mi corazón - my heart

Buenos días mi vida - Good morning my life

amor - love

cariño - sweetheart

[glorious-sunset]

LBFAD Opening Artwork – Hidden Meanings

The created artworks used for the opening scenes of LBFAD (Love Between Fairy and Devil) are unique and have many hidden layers of meaning! Sheer genius on the part of the artists and designers :D Here are my interpretations of these stunning works of art.

Image 1: Bone Orchid (image above)

Although I’ve posted stills, each image actually moves. Here, flowers bloom on the Bone Orchid and leaves grow on previously bare branches around the sides. This is the original form of the Bone Orchid prior to DongFang QingCang (DFQC) transforming it into a bracelet for Xiao Lanhua (XLH) in ep. 9.

The two parts of the Bone Orchid, the crescent-moon-shaped bone and the vine of the orchid plant wrapped around it, each represent DFQC (the Moon Supreme) and XLH (who was disguised as an Orchid), and their close bond. This is a new magical artefact that DFQC created from his blood in ep. 9 (similar to Lady Yan creating the Heart-hiding hairpin). That he chose to give it a form symbolising a bond between himself and XLH is deeply significant! Consciously, he may have meant their connection through the one-heart curse, but subconsciously he already had deep affection for her by this time.

Orchid flowers blooming on the previously bare vines of the Bone Orchid represent the blooming of their love for each other. (As their love blooms, XLH bonds with the Bone Orchid to the extent that removing it would end her life by ep. 29). It also refers to the many times that XLH makes flowers bloom when DFQC does something to make her happy :D The leaves growing on the bare branches around the sides of the image symbolise XLH’s resurrection of DFQC’s Tree of Emotions and his healing process. The Bone Orchid represents the love between our Fairy and Devil which is the central theme of LBFAD, so no wonder it is the first image we see!

Image 2: Xiao Lanhua

Here XLH first transforms from an orchid flower tethered to its stem, into human form as a young and innocent girl. The white swirls around her represent her usual spiritual powers (not her green Goddess powers). When she uses her powers to repair destiny leaves, etc., her energy appears as white light (important note - we see a different type of energy later in the opening artwork!) The pink tinge to some swirls represent her femininity and affection. XLH appears weak and vulnerable but her love and tenderness are the most transformative force in the series. Her reflection in the water below shows an orchid plant only, not a girl – this symbolises the illusion of her orchid form in hiding her true identity.

Image 3: Haishi Rescue

In this scene from ep. 3, initial obstacles to their love are presented including their power differential (symbolised by her small size within his giant hands), his view of her as an object and his underlying lack of emotions. The city of Haishi is below, the giant Sun made of DFQC’s formidable Hellfire is to the left, and the floating debris represents the destruction DFQC has wrought and is trained to continue to wreak. His mission is to destroy Shuiyuntian and conquer the three realms.

XLH looks vulnerable, her cloak resembles an orchid petal, and white/pink swirls of feminine energy again surround her. However, DFQC has just saved her life and continues to shield her within a protective bubble – an important ongoing dynamic of their relationship.

Images 4-7: Flashback

Images 4-7 are artistically presented as a series of opening doors, like opening the pages of a history book. They are a flashback to events 30,000 years ago and set the scene for current events and obstacles to the love between the OTP.

Image 4: The Two Tribes

The two different tribes that our OTP belong to are presented. Shuiyuntian is light and airy, and floats above the clouds with dozens of golden birds flying in the sky. They are the emblem of Shuiyuntian (as the crescent moon is for the Moon tribe) as shown by the golden bird brooches worn by celestials. Similar to Shangque transforming into a black dragon, the true form of some celestials may also be of golden birds and they can transform into this form. The position of Cangyan Sea below Shuiyuntian, the darkness in which their people live and their comparative lack of manpower (there is only one black dragon in the image) suggests that they are oppressed by Shuiyuntian.

Image 5: Battle of Two Tribes

Prior to Lady Chidi’s sacrifice, the people of Shuiyuntian and Cangyan Sea fight each other, their forces coordinated by Lord Dong and DFQC. This is the culmination of a hundred millenia of warfare between their tribes. Again there is only one dragon, and Lady Chidi in the forefront leaps into Cangyan Sea territory to confront it. Her red cape traces her active path through the battlefield. White and red swirls of energy (+/- blood) emanate from her.

Image 6: Lady Chidi’s Sacrifice

After invading Xuanxu realm of Cangyan Sea, this is the pivotal moment where Lady Chidi explodes her spirit to seal the 100,000 soldiers of the Moon tribe. Red blood sprays from her body and her earth magic envelops the Moon Tribe soldiers, sealing them within the earth. Her sacrifice foreshadows XLH’s own sacrifice in ep. 31.

Image 7: The Capture of DFQC

After the sealing of his soldiers, a weakened DFQC with white hair is suspended within the circular Haotian tower, his arms and legs magically bound. Magical glyphs surround him to seal him in place, representing the magical seal of the Haotian matrix.

Image 8: Xiao Lanhua of Arbiter Hall

Back to the present - the series opens by introducing us to XLH of Siming Dian (Arbiter Hall). The archways in this image are similar to the archways in the lower level of Arbiter Hall. Vines grow around the pillars, symbolising that XLH’s primordial spirit is connected to the plants at Arbiter Hall. The trees behind her may represent the nearby Shuyu Forest that she frequently visits. As XLH moves to the right, new white trees start to grow in front of the black trees, demonstrating her ability to create new life and make plants grow. White swirls of her spiritual energy again surround her.

In line with her selfless and giving nature, XLH offers up her spirit! She does this four times in the series: 1) In ep. 1, she offers up her life and spirit to protect Changheng, whose destiny leaf had changed and was destined to have his body and spirit destroyed (more detail here). 2) Also in ep. 1, she fuses part of her spirit to DFQC’s, restoring his spirit and body and giving him a part of her spirit (which he later extracts in ep. 33 to resurrect her). 3) In ep. 31, she sacrifices her life and spirit to protect DFQC’s life, to resurrect everyone that died on the battlefield and free the 100,000 sealed soldiers of the Moon Tribe. 4) She promises the Great Turtle in ep. 33 that she will sacrifice her spirit to defeat Taisui and bless the Three Realms. XLH’s fate to sacrifice herself is another obstacle to her and DFQC’s love for each other :(

Image 9: DFQC’s Tree of Emotions

Thanks to XLH’s resurrection of his Tree of Emotions in ep. 1, DFQC begins to grow beautiful glowing golden leaves on its previously bare branches, symbolising his breathtaking transformation.

Image 10: The Great Turtle

I believe this is another flashback. At the end of XLH’s first life in Xishan, her parents disguised her as an orchid plant with no human form. At this time between her first and second lives, she meets the Great Turtle. The orchid flower sprouting from her hand is the new form she transforms into, and orchid petals float around her during her transformation. The Great Turtle calls XLH an old friend in ep. 9 as they have met before – in this scene.

To the left of the image is a crescent moon with a dead tree growing on it. This symbolises DFQC (the Moon Supreme) and his Tree of Emotions which was dead at that time 30,000 years ago. There is a wisp of haze around the tree indicating that it has the potential to regrow. Despite XLH’s destiny to sacrifice herself for the Three Realms (which she might have discussed with the Great Turtle here), DFQC is waiting in the wings to change her destiny!

Image 11: Our Fairy and Devil

XLH gazes upward in hope, while DFQC’s eyes are closed and his head bowed, portraying both his reserved nature and that initially he was emotionally closed off, aloof and distant. The asymmetric gold crown that DFQC wears indicates that this scene is from after their return from the mortal realm back to Cangyan Sea – XLH also wears Moon Tribe attire.

On the Bone Orchid between them are flowers in full bloom, representing their love, which is now in full bloom :D Also between them is DFQC’s Tree of Emotions, now fully regrown with gorgeous white blossoms similar to the scene where he sits beneath his tree in ep. 24.

Despite the beautiful development of their love and of their characters, war between their two tribes is imminent. The image of Shuiyuntian between them sports a red flag, indicating their impending invasion of Cangyan Sea. Cangyan Sea is outnumbered, represented by one dragon vs. dozens of golden birds, and they face annihilation at the hands of Shuiyuntian D: Another reason for DFQC to bow his head, as he faces both the destruction of his realm and the loss of his love at this time.

Image 12: Peace Reigns

Just look at the swirls of energy emanating from XLH and DFQC as they float in a boat along the Oblivion River! There are again white swirls for XLH, but DFQC has red and gold swirls for Glazed Fire!! This scene occurs after DFQC’s return at the end of the series! :D The red belt around XLH’s waist is reminiscent of blood pooling from her wound in ep. 31 when she stabs herself with the Zhengying sword. This image (and the opening theme song Jue Ai, “Farewell Love”) pays homage to both her sacrifice, and DFQC’s sacrifice in ep. 36 which produced his Glazed Fire. Only through both of their sacrifices, were they able to bring about first a ceasefire to war, then lasting peace between Shuiyuntian and Cangyan Sea, breaking through a hundred millenia of unending conflict!

Only by creating peace are they finally able to be together happily. The boat is deeply significant for our OTP - there are three situations where they are alone together in a boat during the series. XLH reminisces fondly about this in ep. 24, and Siming sends a boat for DFQC (and fireflies for Changheng!) as a sign that she knows their most significant connections to XLH. To the bottom right are the peaceful waters of Cangyan Sea with the watchful eye of a black dragon at rest. To the top left is a peaceful Shuiyuntian with Yunzhong’s watchful “Eye of Heaven” (seen in ep. 14) accompanied by a flower in bloom, symbolising peace and prosperity. The positions of each are in poetic parallel to image 4 which showed conflict – the defensive black dragon in image 4 is now restful, and the golden birds also seem to be resting :)

Here is a link to my article: How Immortals age in cdramas – clues from LBFAD

All of my LBFAD articles can be viewed with the tag #lbfad reflections (hyperlinked) and the table of contents to these is here.

[multiplefandomwritings]

Yellow

pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader

warnings: none really

summary: yellow is the color of sunflowers, sunshine, lemons, joy and happiness and of all the things Mick associates with you.

notes: the schumacher accident never happened in this one. feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests! this one shot is part of the "love in different colors" series. also, the poem in the beginning was written by me.

disclaimer: english is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊

word count: 4.8k

Wildflowers

Need 

Sun

Wildflowers 

Need

Water

You 

Are

My

Sun

Shining

On

The 

Wildflowers

Your

Love 

Is 

Their

Water

They 

Are 

Blooming

Rapidly

Growing

Fast

And 

Beautiful

2007

He runs as fast as his little legs can carry him. It is summertime, and he is barefoot. He doesn’t need shoes where he is going, you live down the street from his home. He believes he hears his mother’s voice scolding him, but he does not care. He knows that she isn’t serious. He laughs and he hears his mother laughing before he runs through the little garden door and onto the sidewalk.

Only a couple more houses. He greets the neighbors, who only see his fair colored hair running by. They know exactly where he is off too. He comes to a halt in front of your house, which is a lot smaller than his. He looks at the beautiful yellow sunflowers growing in front of the property. He has to put his head back to admire the flower heads because the stems excel his little body. He catches his breath and skips onto the walk that leads to your front door. Jumping up the stairs, he is about to ring the bell when the door is ripped open, and you hurl your body at Mick.

Few minutes later you sit on the swings of the playground close by. “And we went to the beach almost every day, Mick! The sand was almost white, not yellow at all, like I always imagined. Mama bought me a yellow dress and it is so pretty, I must show you next time, I will wear it on the first day of school!” You always talk that much, and even more when you are excited like you are right now. Mick doesn’t mind. He can spend all day listen to you, every day.

Two weeks later, when school starts again, Mick picks you up to walk together. You walk out of the door; the sunflowers are still blooming, and you wear the yellow dress. And somehow this day changes everything for him, he just doesn’t know it yet. It is in this moment that Mick thinks for the first time that he might loves you. It is innocent, it is playful and still so very, very real. After school, when you are still wearing the yellow dress and he waits for you outside the school so that the two of you can walk together, he decides to be brave. When you skip down the stairs of the school building, he smiles at you, you smile back. One of your milk teeth is missing, but it makes your smile just more adorable.

Micks heart beats fast in his chest when your little hand grabs his. On the way home you stop by one of the many fields surrounding your hometown and he picks a yellow dandelion for you. “You know, one day I am going to marry you!”, he says, and you take the flower from his hand and put it behind your ear. “You better!”, you answer him and stand on your tippy toes to blow just the hint of a kiss on his cheek. Then you laugh loud and free and start to run towards home. Mick laughs and he follows you.

2013

Six years later, Mick is still your best friends. You don’t see each other than much anymore because he goes karting a lot now. He is on track almost every day. Sometimes you tag alone, sitting on the bleachers, doing your homework, and watching him racing by. Today is one of these days. It is late spring, the sunshine starts to warm up with every day passing, and you look forward to the summer, because Mick usually has more time then. It is too warm to go carting, and you would have his undivided attention once again. You wear a yellow sweatshirt, and you wave at Mick when he steps out of his cart.

He smiles, waves back and comes over to you. “Hey”, you greet him with a wide smile. “Hey back”, he says and sits down next to you. He pulls you in a short side hug. “You really missed something today at school”, you tell him, “Lukas asked Susanne to be his girlfriend!” “No way!”, Mick exclaims, more excited by your excitement. He doesn’t really care about what happens at school.  Life is very different for the two of you nowadays, while you go to school, meet your friends after and on the weekends, he is always busy. Some days he doesn’t show up at school at all. You don’t like these days. School is better with your best friend.

You are just teenagers now, but it doesn’t feel like that. You still play with barbies, and Mick is too busy to go around in circles in a little car and adolescence hasn’t quite reached the two of you yet. Some of your friends start to date, if you can really call it that, but that is still a bit weird to you and Mick. For other people it is not, and they start to ask if you are a couple, and both of you always say no. Sometimes Mick wishes that you would say yes but that would mean that he would have to kiss you and he thinks that is gross.

“Mick? You are not listening!”, you accuse him. He utters a quite apology. “What were you thinking about?”, you ask, and he becomes bright red. He doesn’t know what to answer you, and he is grateful when his father waves the two of you over. You get up first, the conversation quickly forgotten when Michael tells the two of you that you would go and get ice cream.

You cheer, your arms wrapping around the neck of his father. Mick wishes that was him in that moment. You climb into the car and Mick gets in as well, and you are already talking again, this time telling Michael about your day at school. At the ice cream place, you get lemon ice cream in a cone, like always. It is your favorite; you always tell Mick that. Like he would ever forget. You happily hold your cone in your hand, your tongue licking up the yellow delicacy. Mick watches you closely and for a moment a thought comes to his mind. Maybe kissing wouldn’t be as gross if it was you and if you just ate lemon ice cream, because you would taste like lemons and his ears turn red just a tiny bit.

2016

You are as kind as summer, that much Mick knows. The sunshine that hits his face right now reminds him of the glow of your soul. He is really happy with his life right now, but he is even happier when he gets to spend time with you. He is excited for next year because he would finally start in Formula Three and it is a new chapter. The both of you are older now, proper teenagers now, awkward and shy and there is a little shift in your friendship. It is in lingering touches and testing the waters yet none of you makes the first step, because this friendship you have is worth more than anything else. Also, Mick is older now and he doesn’t think kissing is gross anymore. But he finds out that most of the time when he kisses a girl – which is rare, you know, since he is usually surrounded by boys – he thinks about lemon ice cream and how you would taste.

You still talk a lot, like you always used to do, and it is reassuring to Mick, because even though is life is fast and exciting, it shows him at some things stay the same. It is the comforting notion of consistency that he associates with you. Generally, you haven’t changed that much, Mick thinks as he observes you while you are talking. You are more grown now, obviously, but while his face breaks out with pimples every once in a while, yours seems to be graced by the absence of puberty acne. Or maybe he just never looked closely enough, so he decides to do that now. You shave your legs now; he realizes and for a moment he asks himself whether that is because of a boy. But, he tells himself, you would tell him if you have a crush on someone.

Then, on the other hand, he isn’t really there anymore. He makes an effort to see you though, he likes to tell himself. But mostly the two of you hang out these days when your parents meet up and you tag along. Just like today, when your father had cooked saffron risotto and you had lemon ice cream for dessert. The two of you sit on the old swings of a long-abandoned playground and sway back and forth just a bit. You look more beautiful now, Mick realizes as he continues to watch you, more grown-up. “You never really listen anymore!”, you complain, and he is ripped from his thought. “Even when you are here, you are never really here!”, you accuse before you get up and stomp through the grass and the dandelions towards the house. Micks wants to tell you that he wasn’t thinking about racing but that he was thinking about you, but he doesn’t know how to, so he rather doesn’t say anything. Instead, he walks back to the house as well and pays the tall sunflowers next to garden gate no attention.

2017

He hasn’t seen you for a while. He is just so busy with racing, that he rarely comes over anymore. It makes him sad. You still text, but it became rather occasionally. You have your friends in your hometown, you are settled in school. He doesn’t want to take that away from you by pushing his non-existing presence on you. Truth is, he misses you. He misses your friendship. You are still friends, obviously, and he knows that he can call you and you will pick up and listen to him no matter what. But you don’t call him for this kind of stuff anymore. You are not best friends anymore, friends more for the fact that you had grown up together rather than anything else.

But today he wants to change that. He wants to reconnect with you, breath life back into the relationship that is slowly fading away. He is back home for two or three weeks, so he decides to just go over to your house like he used to. Suddenly he feels like he is 6 or 8 or 12 again. He opens the familiar garden door and slips though. The sunflowers stand as tall as ever, but he doesn’t need to look up anymore. Your parents’ car is not there, so he assumes that you are home alone. He rings the doorbell, but nothing happens. No one comes, and he is about to leave, when he hears you calling from upstairs. “I will be right there!” He hears you run down the steps. And then you rip open the door. You wear a yellow summer dress, and your cheeks are flustered. “Mick!”, you exclaim, “What are you doing here?”

You seem happy to see him, but it is not like it used to be. You don’t move in for a hug, you don’t grin widely. A small smile graces your face. “Hey”, Mick scratches the back of his head, “I was back in town, so I wanted to check in and see how you are doing.” You are about to answer when you get interrupted by another person emerging from behind. “Oh hey, babe. Mick was just coming by to say hi”, you smile up to the guy standing behind you. An arm snakes around your waste. “Hey Mick, I am Felix. Y/n has told me a lot about you!”, he extends his hand and Mick takes it to shake it. “Do you want to come in? We have some freshly made lemonade”, you ask him, but he shakes his head.

He forces a wry grin on his face. “No, thank you. I just remember that I need to help my mum with something. But you two have a good day!” Felix waves him goodbye and disappears into the house. Mick turns around and when he is almost through the garden door, he hears you calling after him. “It was nice seeing you again, Mick.” He smiles at you, and this time it is sincere. “You, too.” He leaves your property and returns home.

He doesn’t know exactly why it pained him to see you with another guy. It was not like what you had was exclusive. If he was honest with himself, there was nothing between you at all. All he can think about is that you must taste like lemon when Felix kisses you because you made lemonade, and he finds that this isn’t really fair.

2019

It is a warm summer day, the sun shining. You cover your eyes with your hands, looking up into the sky. You smile. It is a beautiful day. You laugh when a finger pokes in your side. “Mick, stop!”, you laugh and stick your tongue out at the boy next to you. Both of you have found your way home for the summer break, and despite not having seen each other for a while, it feels just like 2008, 2012, 2015, all over again.

You didn’t really talk to each other for a few years when Mick was always away and busy and your lives were really different. You were teenagers, and it felt impossible to bring your different lives in harmony, so you separated paths for a while, both you doing your own thing. You outgrew your teenager years at some point, however. Mick still remembers the day you reached out to him again, a delicate try to revive a friendship that had been lost between the passing years. He was so happy when you called him that evening when he laid under the yellow light of just another hotel somewhere. The pillows were bright yellow, so bright they almost hurt his eyes. You call and he almost tells you. “I thought of you when I entered the room because the pillows are yellow and so are you to me”, but he doesn’t. He is just happy to hear your voice and he listens to you talking, and he spends hours on the phone with you.

Now, you are laying on the grass by the local lake. Dandelions sprouts, poking out in between the green patches of the meadow, and you want to stay here forever. You lay on your towel; you feel like you are surrounded by a yellow ocean of flowers. The skin of your arms tingles – you forgot to use sunscreen. Possibly you would have a little sunburn later, but you couldn’t care less. Micks’ blonde hair is almost golden in the sun, you are blinded when you look at it. You feel hot. You don’t know whether it is the sun or something else. You decide not to think about it for now.

The blonde boy next to you wears a yellow cap. “Yellow is not your color!”, you tease, and he mocks offense. Then he laughs and puts the cap on your head. You smile and stick your tongue out. “Yellow is very much your color, though!”, he says so casually the compliment almost escapes your grasp. Then you realize and a little blush forms on your cheeks. You turn away from him, embarrassed by the effect he has on you.

“Let’s go for a swim”, you say to change the topic and get up. You are wearing a white bathing suit that has sunflowers all over it. You take of the cap and throw it on your towel, where it almost disappears because your towel is yellow as well. For a moment you think about that, the fact that yellow seemed to have seeped into the relationship Mick and you have had for all these years.

Mick agrees, and you both make your way to the water. The coolness of the lake water is a welcome relief from the heat of the sun. You splash around, laughing and joking with each other, like nothing has changed since you were little kids. The years of barely talking are long forgotten. As you swim, you can't help but steal glances at Mick. He has always been handsome, but something about him has changed since the last time you saw him. Maybe it's the way he carries himself, or maybe it's just that you're seeing him in a new light now that you're older. After a while, you both swim back to shore and lay back down on your towels. You feel the warmth of the sun drying your skin and the coolness of the grass beneath you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, enjoying the peaceful moment.

You must have fallen asleep, and you are awakened by something tickling you on your back. Slowly, you open your eyes. You spot Micks body next to you, and the close proximity makes your breath hitch in your throat for a moment. “Don’t move”, Mick whispers and you do as he says. When he is done with whatever he was doing, he grabs your yellow polaroid camera from besides you and stands up. You can hear the shutter click two times and then Mick sits down next to you. He wipes something off your back. His gentle touches give you goosebumps on your arms and leave you feeling warm inside your chest.

“All done”, he says a few seconds later and you sit up. Around you, you can spot the yellow dandelions laying on your towel. “What did you do?”, you ask with suspicion in your voice. “I created art!”, he says and holds on of the polaroid pictures in your peripheral vision. You can only steal a quick glance before he tugs it away under the cap, shielding from the sun and giving it time to develop. “Whatever you say!”, you say, and he looks at you intensely for a moment. It freaks you out a bit, so you stick out your tongue at him and he laughs. He turns away and looks over at the other side of the lake where a handful of people surround the little hut that sold ice cream and fries and everything you needed for a day by the lake. “Ice cream?”, he asks you and you nod. “Lemon?”, you nod again and want to get up, but he gently pushes you down on the towel. “My treat”, he says and before you can argue he gets up and disappears.

When Mick returns, he is already fighting for his dear life. The ice cream is melting and dripping everywhere, and you cannot help but chuckle a little bit. Mick throws you a playful glance and you lose it when his eyes cream falls, just beside his towel. “Shit!”, mutters Mick and sits down. He hands you the ice cream, looking a bit like a puppy. “We can share”, you offer and hold the cone out to him. He takes a big lick and both of you have to laugh.

2020

You arrive in Sakhir on a Wednesday and Mick personally picks you up at the airport. He is nervous, he doesn’t really know why, but he maybe because this race could be the one that decides about his championship. Or maybe he is nervous because he is picking you up and he again hasn’t seen you for a few months and he missed you so much.

You step out of the airport in sweatpants and a pale yellow shirt and Mick thinks you might be the most gorgeous person he has ever seen. You look confused, a bit lost, until you see him. Your face lights up and Micks heart drops when he realizes that you are so excited that you are running towards him. Before you reach him, you drop your suitcase and jump into his arms. He catches you; he holds you close, and he takes in your scent – you smell like lemons and sunflowers and happiness. You smell like yellow, and Mick cannot remember that he has ever smelled something more delicious before.

He lets go of you eventually and takes your suitcase and your backpack from you, whatever he can to help you out. He brings you to his rental car, which weirdly enough is an ugly yellow and he holds the door open for you. He drives you to the hotel while you excitedly tell him about your flight and what movies you watched and what your favorite song is at the moment. You also tell him stories he already heard because you call almost every day, but he doesn’t mind.

Sometimes, when he makes a comment or throws in a joke, you laugh and place a hand on his bicep he swears he melts like the lemon ice he shared with you last summer by the lake. You arrive by the hotel, and he again carries your stuff up to your shared room. It is big, bigger than any hotel room you had ever stayed in and the first thing you do is to step out onto the balcony into the warm sun and close your eyes. Mick joins you soon after, and as the sun is starting to go under, a golden husk is painting your face in a shining yellow. You look like the sun, Mick thinks, and you feel like he it too, he thinks when you look at him and smile.

A bit later, you meet with the Schumacher’s for dinner in a place close by. It is the perfect mix of a restaurant and a bar, looking almost like some American diner. You order burger and fries, and lemonade and Mick steals a sip. You complain, playfully and take a sip of his beer as retaliation. Life is good right now, it is happy and joyful and yellow, Mick thinks. His family knows you, and while you talk Mick cannot help himself but watch. The two of you sit so close, squeezed into the booth. Your hand lays next to your thighs, and Mick can almost touch it. He forgets about that fact for a moment when you talk to him, and he is pulled into a conversation about your childhood memories. He takes a sip from his beer and lets his hand fall on the bench. It touches yours for a second, and he doesn’t know what to do. Does he pull away? But then you link your pinky with his like some kind of promise and Mick leaves his hand there, tied to you by your pinkies and the longing in his heart.

You walk away with Gina next to you, over to the little stage to find the perfect karaoke song and Mick cannot help but watch after you. He is enchanted by you, and he wonders how you haven’t realized yet. When he finally tears his eyes away from you and that yellow summer dress, his parents grin at him. “So, what is going on between you and her?”, his father asks her, and Mick shakes his head. “She is still my best friend, dad. That’s never changed.” “Yes”, his mother says, “The only thing that changed are your feelings for her, am I right?” Mick doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t know what to say. He knows that his mother is right, but he doesn’t know what to say to his dad. He doesn’t know what, if there is anything between the two of you, but he hopes there is. He looks up and your eyes are on him, and you smile and for a moment he is almost sure that there is something and he breaks out in a silly smile. His parents exchange a look and intertwine their fingers with one another.

Mick wins Formula Two on a bright, sunny Sunday in Sakhir. But you outshine the sun on this day, he thinks. Your smile is so bright Mick is sure your cheeks will hurt by the hand of the day. His right ear hurts a bit because you yelled into it, but he doesn’t mind. Winning Formula Two feels even better than winning Formula Three, especially because you are there this time. The occasion calls for celebration, everyone knows that. The team somehow manages to find a location where all of you fit. They buy drinks and snacks, and it is not something professional, but Mick think it is perfect the way it is. It is perfect because you are here, and you are laughing, and dancing and Mick could just spend the entire night watching you.

He is the star of the show, of today, but he feels like that should be you. He has won because you have inspired him to do better every single day since 2019, if he is honest maybe since the day, he met you for the first time. He talks to his dad and his mum and some other people when he sees that you are leaving for the balcony of the venue, so he excuses himself. His mother and his father are exchanging a knowing glance but spare him with a comment. He makes his way through the crowd, needing longer than he anticipates because people stop him to congratulate him. Eventually, he is able to join you on the otherwise empty balcony.

He just watches your back for a moment, and how the yellow dress you are wearing once again is gently swaying in the wind. He wants to go and talk to you, but the view is too pretty to pass up on. “Are you just going to stand there and watch me like a creep, or are you going to come here and give me a hug?” He laughs, slight embarrassment peeking through in the sound. When he walks over to you, he doesn’t need to see your face to know the wide grin you are currently wearing on your lips. He steps closer you and wraps his arms around your hips from behind. It is different than the other hugs you have shared all your life, it is more intimate, more real somehow. His heart is beating fast in his chest, and he is almost sure that you can feel it.

You place your hand on his arms, relaxing against his chest, snuggling impossible closer. “Are you enjoying your party, my champion?”, you say, and your words give him goosebumps – the good kind. My champion. He never wants you to call him anything else again if he is being honest. “Hm”, he hums in agreement, chin resting on your shoulder, “Even more because you are here.” The words he speaks are not above a whisper, because he is a bit afraid to say them out loud. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Mick. Since I first met you, I knew that you were destined for great things.”

Mick cannot help but laugh, and you turn around in his embrace. His arms are still around your waist, your arms are now behind his neck. He is close to you, has he ever been this close to you before? His laughter dies down, but he still grins from ear to ear. “I think the first time we met, we were like two years old, and you hit me on the head with a shovel.” You scoff, but Mick knows it is all playful. “I don’t remember that, but I am sure you deserved that”, you grin up at him, “Anyway, that feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Because it is”, Mick says and rubs gentle circles on the fabric above your hipbones, “But most of my best memories are with you. Like that summer last year? I don’t think I have ever felt better than during that time with you.” You smile up at him, and Mick feels like you are impossibly closer now. “Do you remember? When we were eight?”, you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper, “You gave me a dandelion and you said that you will marry me one day, and to be honest… I always hoped that you wouldn’t break that promise.” Mick smiles, and it is soft. He looks down into your eyes and you take his breath away. “One day, I will keep true to that promise”, he says.

He kisses you now, and as he does, he realizes something. Firstly, you really do taste like lemons. And like sunshine and happiness and much, much more. Secondly, he realizes that in a world of billions of people, a life full of thousands who he almost definitely hadn’t met yet, you were his one person, and he was going to make sure that counted for something.

[inkformyblood]

sing a song of sixpence (CWFKB #4)

True Love's kiss fill for @codywanfirstkissbingo (had to write about my favourite fairy tale The Wild Swans <3)

The window groans as Cody pushes it open, the sound barely muffled by the rag stuffed into the hinges, once a decorative cast-off from a larger dress and now sacrificed for the mundane concerns of darkness and warmth. Outside, the moon hangs low in the sky, barely brushing the dark spikes of the trees and the path Cody needs to take is well-illuminated, the occasional smooth stone glowing bright in the moonlight. He doesn’t need them, not now, not after so many years walking the same path. 

“Are you out again?” The voice is familiar, but it takes Cody a moment to place it, blinking back into the dappled shadows of the bedroom. A wavering afterimage of his path hovers in front of his gaze and he waits for it to pass before he locks eyes with Rex, his hair already rumpled and his eyes barely open. 

Cody nods.

Rex groans, pressing his hands to his eyes and sinking back into the bed. He reaches over, smacking his hand against the mattress until he retrieves Cody’s blanket and pulls it over himself. “How many times are you going to keep this up, Codes?” Rex sighs heavily, the sound verging on a snore. “Stay safe.”

Cody couldn’t answer him, not like this. He can feel every trapped word vibrating in his chest, soil left to grow overgrown and treacherous, but he nods again, and scrambles out of the window. There are a lot of unknowns with this curse, too many in fact for him to ever be sure that he is even helping, but he stays the course regardless. His family had argued over his decision, over his head, to his face, tucked in the small corners of their home when they thought he couldn’t hear them, but Cody is stubborn. He could do this, he could help in this small way, so he doesn’t speak.

Grunts of effort, he is reasonably sure, don’t count, tied in to sobs and gasps, yawns and every other involuntary noise that a body makes, but he hasn’t spoken an intentional word in years. He ducks beneath a tree bough that only caught him at the beginning of his travels back and forth and every so often when he still forgot about it, and pushes his way through a tangle of the undergrowth. The lake is still, perfectly flat and it reflects the moon overhead like a mirror. Cody sinks onto an upturned log. Over the years, he has seen it sink further into the ground, the rapid flash of moss over the surface seeming to bloom and develop infrastructure and revolution in a matter of weeks. He pulls the treated cloth bag out from the hollow next to it and sets to work. His earlier work is clumsy, random inexplicable holes scattered across the surface of the fabric, his stitches ragged and bisecting the uneven colours of the fabric, but he improved. His current shirt is a thing of beauty, the fabric nearly glowing beneath the watchful gaze of the moon and Cody’s stitches are neat and even. One sleeve hangs free and then everything will be complete. 

He lowers his head and begins to work. 

Sometime later, Cody’s eyes burning and his vision beginning to waver in and out of focus, a distant splash catches Cody’s attention and he looks up across the lake. The ripple meets the shore at the same time, continuing as the swan breaks away from the group and travels towards Cody. 

“You came.” Cody hears the words without hearing them, a stray thought emblazoned across the front of his mind, and he grins at the animal as it stumbles onto the shore. There’s a scent of cool water and a lingering bite of salt, the memories of a world so far away it might not exist at all, and Cody nods, holding up the shirt in trembling hands. It doesn’t feel real, being so close and yet still so far. 

The swan’s wings flex, power clear in the movement, and the feathers gleam. The curse hadn’t detracted from the man’s beauty, merely transposed it onto a different form. Cody had only met the man once, slumped beneath a tree with blood soaking through his tunic and feathers already beginning to poke through his skin. His hair had been caught between silver and his likely natural red, but his eyes had been clear enough. Cody remembers the clasp of his hand, tight enough to ache, to try and imprint some semblance of his fading humanity onto another person before the curse had overtaken him. 

“You’re nearly finished, I— We— Thank you. Thank you for everything.” 

Cody lowers his gaze once more, a flush of heat rolling through his cheeks, and pulls his needle through the fabric once, twice, three more times. He bites through the thread, a tiny snap he feels echoing through his mind, and shakes out the shirt, holding it out to the swan. He tips his head to one side, shrugging with an exaggerated rise of his shoulders. Nothing is happening. He finished the task, sewed the shirts, and didn’t speak. He fulfilled the criteria the man had whispered to him, a voice torn between a swan’s call and ragged syllables. 

“I don’t…” The swan waddles forward, lowering his head to poke the shirt with his beak. “This should have worked.” He steps forward, stretching out his wings to knock against Cody’s hands as he lowers the shirt. 

Grief is heavy and it tears through Cody’s shirt. This should have worked. Was it him, his fault? Had he spoken during his silence and ruined everything? 

“Thank you, Cody. For everything.” The swan leans forward, resting his neck against Cody’s shoulders, his wings against Cody’s arms. His feathers are cool beneath Cody’s touch, and he turns his face into the embrace, kissing the top of the swan’s head by way of an apology. It tastes like salt, like tears and sorrow. “Sleep now. I will discuss with the others for a solution.”

Cody, exhausted and hollow, nods, sinking to the ground and curling onto his side. He rolls, facing away from the lake, unable to face them any longer. 

He’s awoken by a shout, heard and not thought, sitting upright. 

“Cody! It worked!” The man stands at the shore, the remnants of a tattered tunic over his torso and one of Cody’s shirts over the top of it. It fits him well. His grin is bright as the rising sun and he staggers towards Cody, half-hunched forward before he straightens, his legs trembling from the effort. He collapses next to Cody, crawls the final few steps and cups Cody’s face in his hands. “It worked, thank you.”

Behind him, Cody can make out other human forms on the shore, one man sprawled across the ground, his hands splayed towards the sky, and another staggering on legs that he’s determined will hold him up. 

Cody swallows, presses his tongue against his lower lip. “Hi.” His voice cracks, barely louder than a whisper. 

“Hi, love.” 

“Can I kiss you?” Cody asks, carefully picking his way around the words he hasn’t used for years but has wanted to ever since he saw the man in the forest. 

“Yes. Yes, please.”

Cody leans forward and kisses him, tastes salt and joy and everything is going to be okay. 

[junekissed]

the secret garden

member — seokmin x gn reader genre — fluff :) happy valentine's day! word count — 2.2k warnings — none! notes — this is for @hvcmixtape's valentine's day song collab!! this fic is based on: "like real people do" by hozier

be sure to check out the other participants in the collab - masterlist here!

“hey, honey?”

seokmin looks up at the sound of your voice trailing in from the other room. “yeah?” he calls back.

“i’m off to the store to get stuff for dinner, okay? i’ll be back in a while. text me if you need anything!”

he smiles. “ ‘kay. love you!”

“love you too!” you reply.

he closes his laptop, waiting. minutes later he hears the front door click shut and faintly, the sound of your car starting as you drive away.

when he’s sure you’re gone, he gets up from his chair, peeking out through the doorway of his office before walking out into the house.

the sliding glass door to your backyard opens with a squeak as seokmin slips outside, quickly crossing the yard. he struggles a little moving the heavy birdbath, but once it’s out of the way he finds what he’s looking for.

it’s purposefully hard to get to; hidden behind a cluster of small trees and shrubs and covered even further by the birdbath, because he needs to make sure you won’t see it, unless you knew exactly where to look.

he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees everything in place, just as it was when he last checked a few days ago.

he’s been planning this since last february, when he originally planned on doing this for you; except the squirrels got to it a few days before he could and he had to rush to buy cheap roses from the grocery store down the street because all the florists had been sold out for weeks. he’s still mad about that, and this year he made sure to cover everything in netting so it wouldn’t happen again.

he even bought anti-squirrel spray, and he feels kinda bad about using chemicals, but he didn’t want to risk a natural, chemical-free repellant not working and forcing him to settle for something store bought for a second year in a row. sorry, squirrels.

but thanks to—or perhaps, in spite of—his precautions this year, his gift is perfectly safe and sound. his flowers are coming along perfectly.

they’re right on the verge of blooming: the buds just barely beginning to open, just in time for valentine’s day in a week.

of course, he’s got the classic v-day flowers: deep red roses, pink speckled carnations, white daisies.

but he knows he can do better than that. any moron with a packet of seeds can grow roses in their backyard. so he’s planted some of your other favorites too, ones that took a little more planning to pull off. honeysuckle, tulips, and daffodils, some of your favorites, take up one corner of the flower bed.

the work and research put into getting everything right has been tedious, but seokmin is an ambitious man, and he would only attempt it for you. sure, it probably cost more in time, effort, and supplies than ordering a nice bouquet online would have, but he likes doing things himself, and he likes that his way is more personal.

it’s been many months of diligently deleting the search history on his computer so you don’t see the hour and a half of googling things like “how often do i water carnations” and “are worms good for plants” and “how much sunlight for tulips” every day.

not that he thinks you’d go looking, but he can never be too careful when dealing with surprises. not after two christmases ago when you found your (unwrapped) presents sitting behind the washing machine when your sock had fallen down there; no, he’s learned his lesson.

he heads to the shed along the side of the house to grab the scissors from the shelf of gardening supplies, along with a small watering can.

he’s glad you never end up sticking to your annual new year’s resolution to start gardening more, because if you had, you probably would’ve found his secret flowers already. although maybe after this, he might be able to convince you to come outside and garden with him every once in a while. it’s actually kind of fun, and it’s satisfying seeing his hard work turn into something beautiful.

when he’s done trimming the dead leaves and making sure the plants have enough water, he carefully replaces the netting and moves the birdbath back into place. he puts the gardening scissors and watering can where they belong before heading back inside, carefully sliding the door shut behind him and locking it again.

he’s just finishing washing the dirt off his hands when he hears your car pull up into the driveway, and he can’t help the smile that grows across his face at just the thought of you. he flicks his hands, gives them a quick wipe with a towel before opening the front door and going out to meet you at the car and help you carry everything inside.

the next few days pass by quickly, and before seokmin knows it, it’s the night before valentine’s day.

he’s just gotten back from work, having left early to make sure he has time before you get home, leaving him plenty of time to get everything ready for tomorrow. 

he opens the back door, leaving it open so he can hear your car pulling up in case you get home earlier than expected.

crossing the yard he feels like a kid on christmas eve, sneaking out of bed to peek at their presents before christmas morning. he’s excited for his months of planning to finally come together, and he can’t wait to see the look on your face tomorrow when he finally gets to give it to you.

he carefully cuts the flowers, picking out the prettiest and brightest blooms and setting them in a little container so he can take them inside without damaging them. 

back in the house he stands over the counter, thinking about how to put everything together. he’s watched countless videos on how to do different kinds of flower arrangements, but sitting in front of the flowers he grew himself, ready to start, it’s a little more nerve-wracking than he had thought.

he’s only got one shot at doing this right, and although there’s still some flowers left outside that he didn’t cut, it won’t be enough to make a completely new bouquet.

he takes a deep breath, eyes flicking across the counter from the daffodils to the daisies before he finally settles on the roses first. gingerly he picks one up and sets it in the vase he bought, already lined with floral tape and filled with just the right amount of water.

one by one he carefully places the flowers in the vase, trying his best to add layers and make everything look nice and organized.

it takes him a little while but finally it’s finished, and he stands back, admiring his work. it’s not as perfect as he’d hoped it would be, but he has to admit it looks pretty damn good for an amateur florist like himself. it definitely would've looked nicer had he bought a pre-made arrangement instead, but he's so happy with everything that the thought of buying flowers doesn't even cross his mind.

he checks his watch, surprised to see how much time has passed as he hurries to put the arrangement in a hiding spot (one that you won’t accidentally find this time) and put your other presents together in a little pink gift bag covered in hearts.

he hears the front doorknob turn just as he’s taking things out of the refrigerator to get started making dinner (it’s your night to cook, but he wants to keep you out of the kitchen and away from the hidden presents).

as always, you greet him with a smile and a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your head against his shoulder. the corners of your eyes crinkle in joy when you see that he’s making your favorite dinner, and you start telling him about your exhausting work day as he cooks.

you’ve decided to take the holiday off and call in sick tomorrow, preferring to spend a nice, romantic day with your husband, so you aren’t in bed as early as you usually would be on a work night. instead, you’re cuddled up on the couch after dinner, talking late into the night about everything and nothing at all. it’s these evening with seokmin that you love the most; the quiet days when you can just be around each other and everything feels safe and comfortable.

and he doesn’t even mind when you fall asleep on his shoulder and he has to gently tap you awake to bring you to bed. in fact, he couldn’t be happier.

the next day he sets his alarm and wakes up before you, sneaking out of bed and tucking his side of the blankets against you so that you won’t immediately notice he’s gone.

by the time you wake up a little while later, the smell of breakfast is already wafting into the room as seokmin carries a tray of waffles and fruit, topped with whipped cream and strawberries in the shape of a heart.

his face breaks into a grin when he sees you awake, carefully handing you the platter of food.

you smile sleepily at him, still letting your eyes adjust to the morning sunlight. “hi, baby.”

he giggles, sitting on his side of the bed next to you. “hi sweetheart. happy valentine’s day.”

he nods at the plate, wordlessly asking you to try the food, and you oblige, cutting off a big piece of waffle. and of course, like everything seokmin does, it’s— 

“—so good,” you moan through a mouthful of food, savoring the taste. “you spoil me,” you say as you motion to the spread on your lap.

he giggles. “you deserve to be spoiled. and besides, you haven’t even seen everything yet.”

you pretend to be shocked, gasping exaggeratedly. “there’s more?” 

after many years with seokmin, you know he’s probably got something insanely elaborate up his sleeve, but you’re still not used to the way he treats you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. and to him, you are.

he sits with you while you finish your breakfast, leaving only to take your dish back to the sink while you get up and throw some clothes on.

you meet him in the kitchen and immediately see the counter covered in little gifts, but the focal point of the arrangement is a huge case full of flowers, bright pinks and whites and reds with little hints of green spread throughout.

"minnie, this is so…" you start, your voice breaking a little as you walk towards the little display. "these flowers are gorgeous. you must've spent a fortune, you shouldn't have!"

he blushes a little, twining his fingers together. "i didn't!"

you narrow your eyes at him in confusion, and he continues. "i didn't spend anything on them," he repeats. "i grew them myself. so– well, yeah, technically i did buy the bulbs and the seeds and the fertilizer, but i got them on sale so it wasn't that much…" he trails off when he sees you staring at him, mouth hanging open. "what?"

"you grew these?" you ask in shock.

he grins proudly. "i did! and i arranged it myself, too, does it look okay? the carnations wouldn't stick to the tape right, so i had to just– y'know, shove them in there. but they look fine, right?"

you think you might cry at how thoughtful and perfect and wonderful he is, and he's explaining something about squirrels but you're not paying attention because all you can see is the way the smile on his face reaches all the way up to his eyes and the way he scrunches up his nose when he talks, and all you can think about is how happy it makes him when he makes you happy and how happy it makes you when he's happy and how you couldn't be more in love with this man if you tried.

so you do the only thing you can think to do: throw your arms around him and kiss him like it's your first kiss, your last kiss, and every kiss in between all wrapped up into one, and the way he instantly melts into your arms is worth more than any present or expensive floral arrangement he could buy for you. his gifts mean a lot, but nothing comes close to the giddy feeling bubbling up in your stomach when your lips are on his and his arms are softly hugging your waist and his nose is just barely brushing your cheek, and it's the most wonderful feeling in the whole entire world.

and when you finally break apart he's got that sickeningly in-love look on his face, and you know that everything in your life has been leading up to this moment; when you both have so much love you can't physically hold it in, and it spills out over into everything you do for each other. nothing else matters except you and him, your sunshine husband who grows homemade bouquets of flowers for you.

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[cloudninetonine]

Don't know if asks are open and if they aren't you can completely ignore this!! But that request sent in by the other Anon of the chain meeting their future pregnant wife, could you do a little short to see how the team would react around them? Like going behind them and lifting up their tummy to help with the weight, or feeling the baby when they mention that it's moving, trying to be sneaking to figure who the husband is.

Just general short cute things of the chain realizing they are having a child

I GOTCHU ANON

You knew the men were unsure about letting you join them on this journey. Still, a quick reminder of the Shadow's presence hunting you was enough to convince them that there was no other option. Here you were, a few weeks later still very heavily pregnant and waddling for god knows how long each day- sure, you knew you were weighing them down a bit harbouring an actual child in your stomach but you still travelled a hell of a distance each day and stars did your feet ache.

But not for that long, not with Twilight preparing a warm pot of water for you each evening, moving you to rest your burning feet into the liquid and letting you relax.

That wasn't all. No, the other boys tried to be subtle but you knew those heroes too well for them to try and hide their paternal instincts- 

Oh, you knew the Vet liked to sew; he repaired every garment of his (and the others, on occasion) after any battle, scuffle, or simple misplacement of a limb. You also knew he’d refuse to even acknowledge his own actions, watching him repair your shawl by the fire during his watch, meant to be deep asleep but too entranced by the way his hands moved around the fabric as he fixed the hole the shadow had put in your clothes.

Legend smiled at its completion.

Then tossed it to you the next morning, not caring if it landed in your porridge with a grunt of “keep an eye on your things, would ya?”

Not a word left your mouth for his pride.

Of course, the others were softer.

Warriors wasn’t afraid to offer his assistance, massaging out the knots lining your back from carrying the heavy weight- practically a master of hands, you felt better after each one, a puddle of jelly in his arms as he gently laid you out to rest with a chuckle, brushing away hair then letting you rest in peace as the boys did whatever. 

He helped you with your bump, with such a touch that was as soft as a feather but still so firm, holding up for your stomach to let your spine take a rest, swaying the two of you. (You weren’t afraid to say you craved those moments, not just because of the affection but the weight off your spine was a godsend from the heavens above)

Or Wild adjusting his cooking for your health. You had listed a few things, just to be sure, after all, you had to be careful with the baby’s safety but boy did he go above and beyond. Not just adjustment to his dishes, but a complete overhaul to be replaced with a menu that benefitted you best. It flustered you a little, especially with the extra portions reserved for you yet none of the men seemed to mind- except your growing boy, the sailor.

“Ow!” He yelped when Wild slapped his hand away with his ladle, the boy cradling the appendage with bloomed with a soft red. “Hey! What gives- I’m just hungry!”

“The rest is for (Name).”

“I- They’re on their third bowl! And the pot still has practically rivers left!”

“They’re pregnant- unless you’re going to suddenly be with child, then hush.” Many men chuckled at that, the boy left grumbling as he returned to the seat beside him with a scowl. “Stop pouting, sailor, you’ve had two bowls anyway.”

You made sure to give the boy your next bowl to save his hunger. He was still a growing boy, after all.

And not to mention Time, something you knew about the man is he was desperate for a family of his own, craved it, so seeing you waddling about was a certain way for his father (and husband senses) to go off. He practically followed you, a second shadow, hovering over your smaller form carefully as he helped you with every task, held your hand or kept an arm around you as you journeyed, practically monitored any schedule he could find to make sure you were in top shape. It would have been annoying had you not known that the man was just worried, for the two of you, he wanted you to return to your husband safely.

And you wanted that too.

Twilight followed Time in that aspect, descendant-like ancestor, hovering cautiously and practically demanding your care. Many times had he thrown his faithful wolf shawl over your shoulders in the cold, or the instances he’d place you upon Epona in worry for your poor feet. You liked not having to walk though, that was for sure, yet you would have traded that in so the man wouldn’t try to spoon-feed you every chance he got- his hand was smacked each time.

Wind was your normalcy. Not hovering, not treating you like glass, just your hype man who you were sure would have fought 8 fully grown men just to hang with you. His hand tight around yours when it was his “shift” yet acted like his usual self a complete menace whose only thought was about keeping you happy and sane during your travels.

Sky was a more tolerant presence too, not to say the others were intolerable but…you could only take so much bossing before you were ready to beat the men with their own scabbards.

“Such a beautiful tune.” Smiling towards Sky, you watched his face glow a faint red but return the gesture, strumming the lyre once again. “All for me?”

“I thought you would appreciate such a sound after hearing…that.”

“I’ve heard you kill monsters many times, you know.”

Gently, his hands moved across the strings to produce another beautiful hum. “Yes, but, we wouldn’t want to stress the baby, right? Especially from that kicking.”

You hand fell back to your stomach, feeling the kicks under your skin and wincing slightly. “Well, I won’t argue with you on that.”

You could see the cogs moving for Four, oh, you knew those boys were working overtime to keep you steady. Similar to Time, he was a second shadow while trying not to be, hesitated with handling you, yet craved it all the same, spewing random read facts about pregnancy in moments of baby tension and you knew you had to do something. Moving to him in a moment of calm, gently raking through his hair.

“Boys, why don’t you let Green take over for a bit? Cool down before your heads explode.”

He was a little calmer after that.

Hyrule was stubborn, that you knew all too well, his hands always lingering near your belly, his cheeky smile making you narrow your eyes dangerously.

“You look stressed- any pain?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I think I could use some magic-”

“Link!”

He liked playing with you like that, he was a fairy after all and what followed was mischief- mischief you knew was trying to bury the inkling of worry for you each day in this vast land of monsters and beasts. Healing was something he knew he could do and do well, your own personal nurse for the coming days so long as you were safe.

And you had to admit, you felt so much better each time his fingers glowed faintly with pure light.

You missed your husband, you missed his kisses, his cuddles, his worry, his relief- missed his presence beside you as the days continued to go on, your bump growing ever bigger with more movement and more side effects. However, with these men by your side it lessened the blow, it lessened your ache and you knew one day you would unite.

One day soon, you knew.

[livwritesstuff]

plant dad steve my beloved

“Alright, Steve-o, I gotta head out,” Robin says, sticking a wrapped granola bar between her teeth so she has a free hand to grab Steve’s car keys off the kitchen counter, “I have something for you, though.”

She shoves the plain brown paper bag she’d been holding into Steve’s arms with an expectant look on her face.

Steve raises an eyebrow.

“Now?”

“Yes, now. I didn’t want to wait until later because — well, just look and you’ll get it.”

Steve opens the bag and knows instantly it’s a plant. He reaches inside and pulls it out by the plastic pot.

“Oh shit, an alocasia! Thanks, Rob, this is a good fuckin’ find.”

Robin doesn’t respond immediately, her eyes on the big, green leaves of the alocasia plant.

Steve glances up at her.

“You good?”

“Yeah, it’s just…you think those leaves kinda look like the Mind Flayer?”

“What the fu—” he stops, glancing at the alocasia again, “Shit, man, it kinda does.”

Robin starts to snicker, because it’s been seven years since the gates to the Upside Down were closed for good, seven years of growth and healing, so she can laugh about some of those things now and Steve can’t help a laugh either.

“Stop ruining shit for me, Rob.”

“I’m sorry. Pretend I didn’t say anything. Look — when I bought it the guy said it hasn’t been watered in a while and needs a new pot and all that kinda crap you get excited about so now you have a project for today to take your mind off of how you’re spending your birthday all alone.”

Steve smacks her arm.

“Don’t be a dick, you’re the reason we’re in Tacoma, anyways.”

“No,” Robin argued, moving towards the door, “I’m the reason we came to Tacoma. You’re the reason we’re still here and will be for another two goddamn years. I’ll be back at, like, four, and there better not be potting soil all over the place.”

“Whatever. That’s still better than your fuckin’ paint,” he fires back as she’s walking out the door, “Drive safe. Don’t crash my car.”

“Uh-huh,” she calls, already halfway down the hall, “Love ya!”

And then she’s gone.

Steve looks back to his new plant. It really does look like the Mind Flayer — something about the shape of the leaves, he thinks — but a plant, in his eyes, is still a plant no matter how many traumatic memories it may trigger, so it doesn’t take long for him to put on a mixtape Eddie had made for him a few weeks back that he’s been listening to pretty much nonstop and busy himself with the alocasia.

Steve had started caring for houseplants nearly five years ago now, when his advisor had given out small ferns at a course registration event during his sophomore year of college. He had expected the plant to wither away and die after only a few weeks but, to his own astonishment, it actually thrived under his care. Not long later, the nearby grocery store put out a little display of houseplants in colorful plastic pots so, with all the confidence of someone who'd successfully kept one plant alive for a month, Steve bought two.

Honestly, Steve hadn’t expected to have a green thumb in the way he apparently does. After all, each one of his plants has different needs from the next, different light or water or soil or some unique combination of the three. He hadn’t expected that he’d be able to keep it all straight in his (somewhat mangled) brain — the same brain that still hasn’t memorized his course schedule for this semester yet — but pursuing a doctorate in psychology has taught him that he’s actually good at learning when it's something he cares about, something he can find a passion in.

And he really does like the plants, too. They look nice in the apartment — they bring the cramped little space to life, he thinks, and it’s nice to be surrounded by life, to be cultivating life after everything he’s been through and everything he’s done. It’s nice to know he can keep things alive, that he can take care of something so it can grow and bloom, so he leans into it. 

After those two grocery store plants (a pothos and a dracaena that are both still alive and kicking), his collection started to increase exponentially, hitting its peak about a year later when the apartment looked more like a forest than an actual living space. Eventually, it reached a point where even Robin had needed to put her foot down, and Steve had half-heartedly admitted she was correct. After a while of giving plants away (and the odd one dying every so often), it returned to a much more reasonable state.

Steve is halfway through moving the new alocasia plant that definitely doesn’t look like the Mind Flayer at all into a larger pot, his hands filthy with potting soil he’s valiantly trying to keep out of his hair, when the phone rings.

“Shit,” he mutters, dusting off his hands as best as he can before grabbing the phone, “Hello?”

“Do my ears deceive me or is that the birthday boy?”

Steve feels himself starting to smile at the sound of Eddie’s voice, his lips twisting up before he can even think about it.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey yourself,” Eddie replies, “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. Woulda been better if you were here.”

“Yeah, baby, I know. I wish I was there, too.”

“How’s Montana?” Steve asks, “Worth not being here?”

Eddie makes a noncommittal noise, “Not sure if traveling’s my thing. Nice to get outta Indiana, though.”

Steve hums his agreement.

CONTINUE ON AO3

[sapphire-writes]

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon OC

Summary: Elyse receives an invitation and must decide what it is she wants most in this world.

Warnings: Aegon being Aegon 😬

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Chapter 9: The Invitation

My dearest, Elyse,

The days grow colder here on Dragonstone. The nights seem endless, it seems winter is truly coming at last. It makes me think of you and our summer childhood. How lucky were we to grow up under the warm summer sun? Lady Baela and I are to wed a moon from now. If you are still frequenting King’s Landing during that time, I would be honored to have you visit Dragonstone to attend. I have missed your presence in all earnest. I understand you have a suitor in Lord Maceon Tyrell. A fine choice, should you accept. Highgarden would greatly suit you. 

Lucerys and Joffrey send their love, as do Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena.

I do hope to see your face soon.

Ever yours,

Jacaerys Velaryon

The last of the dragon’s breath had withered and wilted, ruby kisses pressed against the stone floor of Jaehaera’s bedchamber. 

The young princess had taken to collecting the petals and pressing them between the pages of the books Elyse had read to her. If Elyse had thought she enjoyed the flowers in full bloom, it appeared Jaehaera was even more impressed as they began to decay. 

She held her hand out, a scarlet petal presented to Elyse, who smiled at her over her letter from Jace.  

“It is lovely,” she told her and Jaehaera closed her small fingers around it, crushing the petal.

Helaena sat across the room, rocking Maelor’s cradle with her foot. She smiled as she heard Elyse talking to her daughter. 

Elyse sat on the floor, cross-legged, with another scroll atop her lap, that was sealed with a golden rose. Helaena’s eyes flickered from the scroll to her friend’s face. 

Grand Maester Orwyle had delivered the letter personally, a knowing smile on his face. The Red Keep had been abuzz with chatter about Elyse Baratheon’s suitor. 

She had heard several stories from the other ladies of court, whispers of gossip about Lord Maceon Tyrell. What a romantic man he was, how he enjoyed singing. How the Baratheon and the Tyrell would not only be a great alliance but a pleasing match together at that. 

“What says my nephew?” Helaena asked. She had always been fond of Jace. 

Elyse smiled.

“He wishes my attendance at his wedding if you can believe that,” Elyse said to her friend. 

Helaena only smiled, returning to Maelor. 

“Ever the gentlemen, Jacaerys Velaryon,” she mused. Elyse chuckled in agreement, folding the letter and placing it in the pocket of her skirt, not moving the second letter. 

“You’ll have to open it sooner or later,” Helaena called to her. 

Elyse looked at her friend, swallowing the lump that began to form in her throat. Helaena cocked an eyebrow. 

“Perhaps if I do not, nothing shall change.”

Elyse wished desperately this could be true. She wanted nothing more than to sit on the floor with Jaehara, listen to Helaena’s soft coos to baby Maelor, and wait for winter to come. 

“So many thorns,” Helaena murmured, staring at her baby in the cradle.

Elyse looked down at the scroll on her skirt. 

She did not want to cry, but she felt a terrible pain in her chest over her heart. She tore the letter open. 

My lady, Elyse,

Receiving your letter has brought me a tremendous feeling of joy. Though I feared it was too extravagant, it pleases me that you enjoyed the array of flowers. You deserve nothing less. I wish to be forward with you, as I am planning to send word to your father proposing a betrothal between us. With his blessing, I shall unite our houses and invite you to journey swiftly to Highgarden where we will become one before the gods. I look forward to your presence among the blossoms. I feel the Reach will suit you elegantly. 

Yours,

Lord Maceon Tyrell

Elyse felt her heart drop. Jaehaera dropped several dragon’s breath petals on the parchment, obscuring the words. The small Targaryen child stared at Elyse as though she knew exactly what the letter had said and what it meant. 

“Well?” Helaena asked, as though she already knew. 

“He wishes me to join him at Highgarden,” Elyse began, “he intends on writing to my father for his blessing.”

Helaena stopped rocking the cradle. She rose from her seat and joined her companion on the floor, taking Elyse’s wrists into her hands. Her violet eyes were wide.

“And what do you wish for?” she asked, lavender eyes staring intently at Elyse. 

A raven from Highgarden to Storm’s End. A few days at most and it would arrive. Lord Borros was not one to frequently check his mail, which would give her a few more days if she were lucky. A few more days to do what, she did not know. Ponder the idea of becoming the lady of Highgarden? A feat eligible maidens would happily grapple for. 

Elyse wished Helaena would take her on Dreamfyre. She wished she could brave the blue she-dragon and fly across the narrow sea to feast on lemon cakes and wine. To lay in the sun of the free cities. To gorge herself on history, art, and any other pleasures the known world had to offer. She wanted-

“It does not matter what I wish,” Elyse said before her thoughts could run completely wild, breaking eye contact with Helaena. 

“It does,” Helaena insisted, knowing her friend. 

“What else am I to do?” Elyse said desperately. 

Helaena released Elyse’s wrists, sitting back atop her heels. 

Queen Alicent entered the chambers suddenly, green skirts sending a wave of red petals scattering in different directions. Jaehaera clapped but remained unsmiling. 

“Mother,” Helaena said as Alicent assessed the two ladies on the floor. 

“What are you doing, my loves?” Alicent asked, approaching them.

Helaena looked towards Elyse. 

“I have been invited to Highgarden,” Elyse told the Queen.

Alicent’s eyebrows shot up and she brought a hand to her chest, fingers grazing the star of the Seven that lay against the hollow of her throat. She stretched her other hand out towards Elyse who took it, standing. Elyse passed the scroll into Alicent’s hand. 

“Oh my darling,” Alicent said, a look of happiness on her face as she read, “such wonderful news.” 

Elyse forced a smile for her adopted mother. 

“We shall celebrate tomorrow night, while we sup,” Alicent assured her and Elyse felt her eyes widen. 

“Truly there is no need-”

“Nonsense,” Alicent said, her tone insistent. “This is a blessing from the Maiden and we shall treat it as such.”

Elyse swallowed her nerves. 

Alicent’s eyes were kind. 

“You have been a second daughter to me. It pains me greatly to think of you leaving. Though I want nothing but happiness for you, my dove.” Alicent told her, a sad smile on her face. Elyse’s heart ached. 

Alicent watched the tearful lady in front of her, seeing so much of herself in the dark-haired beauty. 

“My family hails from the Reach as you know, and Daeron still resides in Oldtown. We must visit Highgarden when you are wed,” Alicent promised, brushing the hair out of Elyse’s face. 

Elyse felt her tears about to spill over her cheeks. 

“Will father be joining us?” Helaena asked, causing Alicent to cast her gaze toward the floor. King Viserys had not risen from his bed since the departure of Princess Rhaenyra several moons ago. Elyse had helped Helaena bring the twins and baby Maelor to see him recently and his condition seemed to have worsened.

“He is not well, my love,” Alicent told her, and Helaena’s mouth formed a tight pout. 

Dinner was a quiet affair in the Queen’s chambers. The table was intimately small, full of plates of meat, fruits, and bread. The room was aglow with hundreds of candles. Even Aegon had joined to see her off apparently. 

Elyse was to be shipped off to the Reach on the morrow. Queen Alicent had a carriage arranged to escort her there, along with several gold cloaks. The journey would take her around eighteen days to complete. It was all but confirmed that Lord Borros would accept the betrothal, and when he did his daughter would already be in Highgarden awaiting to be wed. 

Aemond did not look at her. The entirety of dinner she tried to catch his eye. The avoidance of his gaze was unforgiving. 

Though his face revealed nothing, Aemond was seething under the surface. The blood of the dragon boiled in his veins at the thought of that pathetic flower lord taking Elyse to his wife. Jealousy seared through him at the thought of them together. The whispers he had heard throughout court. Such a handsome pair they would make, lords and ladies had crooned. The doe and the rose. 

Elyse started at the side of his head, hoping Aemond could feel her eyes on him. 

Part of her was thankful Aemond would not meet her eyes, lest it reminds her of the pleasure she claimed at the thought of him several nights past. Her cheeks reddened as she remembered. 

Queen Alicent later excused herself though dinner was not yet finished. A servant had brought word that King Viserys had been asking for her in his delirium. She excused herself with haste.

“I shall make sure to see you off personally, at dawn,” she had told Elyse, stroking her hair.

It was just the four of them left. What an odd bunch they were, three silver-crowned royals and a midnight lady. It felt odd to Elyse, that they were all grown. She wished to retreat into her childhood and rest there for the night. 

“I will say,” Aegon said, breaking the silence, a cheeky grin on his face. His face was red from the Arbor gold in his cup. One of several he had consumed over the course of the evening.

“I shall miss that pretty face among the hens of the Keep.”

Elyse shifted her jaw, biting her tongue. She missed the days when Aegon’s jests were easier to stomach. He seemed braver when his mother was out of the room as well. 

Aemond’s fingers tapped the table incessantly, eyepatch towards Elyse. 

Aegon downed the remainder of his chalice, letting the cup land on the table, wobbling slightly with the force of his release. He leaned forward on his elbows, resting his face on his fingers. Helaena examined a spoon closely, peering into the distorted mirror image of herself. 

“I wonder if you’ll accept a parting gift from a young prince?” he asked, eyes glassy.

Elyse’s eyes flickered toward Aemond. The one-eyed prince said nothing. Helaena stared deeply into her spoon. 

“There is a dragon caught in a storm,” she murmured under her breath. 

“A gift, my prince?” Elyse answered, determined to not let her voice shake. Something about Aegon’s leering had always gotten under her skin. Aegon smiled at her. 

“What sort of gift?”

“Flowers wilt in the rain, ruined by gnashing teeth,” Helaena whispered.

“Take me to your chambers and I’ll happily show you.”

Elyse's heartbeat quickened, and her hands curled into fists in her lap. Do not offend him, she begged herself. Elyse could feel her blood boiling but she would not lose her temper. He would not get that satisfaction from her. 

She was angry and embarrassed and clearly very alone. Helaena was in her own world mumbling about dragons in storms, and Aemond wanted nothing to do with her. She forced a tight smile. 

“That is a very generous offer, my prince. But the hour is late. I must rest before the long journey.”

Aegon chuckled darkly, leaning back in his chair causing the wood to creak. 

“My cock works better than dreamwine, tastes better too.”

“Careful, brother,” Aemond spoke harshly for the first time that evening. 

“You are speaking to a noble lady.”

Elyse felt her heart sing with his words. Aegon’s eyes flickered between Aemond and Elyse. His smile only grew, as though he had uncovered a secret. He began to giggle and clapped his hands together, leaning back in his chair. 

“Has she already had a taste of Targaryen cock, then?” 

Aemond pushed back his chair and stood with impressive speed. He grabbed Aegon by the collar, yanking him out of his seat. 

“You always were selfish brother, no matter how generous I was with my wh-” Aegon was cut off as Aemond lifted him into the air before slamming him down onto the table on his back. 

Helaena cried out, placing her hands over her ears, spoon forgotten. Elyse had pushed herself backward in her seat, eyes wide. Both ladies shouted Aemond’s name. Aegon’s maniacal laughter continued. 

“You are a swine,” Aemond said through his teeth, anger rolling off his tensed shoulders. 

Aegon responded with a noise that sounded uncannily like the squealing of a pig. 

“Brother,” Helaena begged, and Aemond released him, backing away from the table and rubbing his hand over his jaw. His only regret was upsetting his sweet sister. 

Aegon laughed some more, rolling on the table until he slipped off the edge, cups, and cutlery spilling to the floor, clanging off the stones. 

“You always were a gentleman,” Aegon mused from the floor. Aemond glared at his brother, a murderous expression on his face. 

“I doubt you fucked her, even if she spread her le-” it was Elyse who cut him off this time, though Aemond released a roar ready to attack his elder brother again.

“That’s enough, Aegon!” she shouted, unsure if her face was red from embarrassment or anger. 

Aemond looked at her for the first time that evening. She had risen from her seat. Elyse’s chest and face were flushed, brow furrowed in anger, teeth bared looking more so the role of a predator than prey. Storm clouds seemed to gather in her blue eyes. Her small hands were clenched into fists by her sides. 

Aemond wondered if Elenei was under her skirts, waiting for the chance to be unsheathed. Princeslayer, she could become. Aemond would kneel before her to clean her blade with his tongue.  

Aegon clashed his teeth together, the sound of an empty bite filling the room. Helaena shook her head, putting a hand to her mouth and chewing the skin around her thumb. 

“Such fury,” Aegon mocked, and Elyse started towards him. It was as if they were children again. Elyse lost all sense of status. Aegon was simply a bully. 

“I see why you enjoy her, brother,” he continued as Elyse brought her foot down upon his forearm. Aegon cried out at the pressure she applied, but the smile never left his face. 

“I said, enough,” Elyse hissed, and the prince moved to grab her ankle. Aemond was quicker, sending a swift kick to his ribs. Only then did Aegon’s smile fade as he groaned with the impact of the blow. 

“It was all in good fun,” he groaned, clutching his side and writhing on the floor.  

“I wish you would hold your tongue,” Helaena spoke, moving to embrace Elyse.

“Such vulgar remarks, and on her last night here,” Helaena had tears in her eyes, her lower lip wobbling. Elyse consoled her companion, as Aegon coughed from the floor attempting to return to his feet.  

“You’re the ones who got so upset,” Aegon sneered, reaching for another cup. He raised the glass towards Elyse, scarlet liquid sloshing over the sides and onto the floor.

“Do not hesitate to call on me, Lady Elyse,” Aegon said, flinching as Aemond made a move to lunge at him. Aegon giggled maniacally and exited the room. Elyse’s stomach twisted as she could hear his laughter echoing throughout the corridor. 

Aemond waited a moment before huffing and following his brother’s leave. He did not say goodbye, nor did he spare Elyse a second glance. 

As Elyse left the Queen’s chambers to return to her quarters she felt that familiar hollow pain throb in her chest. 

She walked down the hall, feet leaving soft footsteps to echo throughout. She let her hand wander towards the wall to lazily trail over the rough stones. The walls she had walked all her life. Perhaps she could mesmerize the feeling of them in her fingertips. She feared she would forget the feeling, the scent of the wet stones. 

As she progressed further down the corridor she found herself wandering past the door of her bedchamber. She decided she was not ready for sleep. She didn’t want to dream. She didn’t want to lay in her bed, to claim her pleasure once again for a man who was not her betrothed. Her betrothed. 

Maceon Tyrell would soon be her lord husband. She didn’t know why her heart ached with the thought. He was kind, he had been sweet to her. He would be a good, gentle husband. She would be a beautiful lady among the flowers. Poets may write songs about her.

Her fingers hit wood. The door to the library. The altar she worshiped at, though she would never say that aloud as Septa Marla would scold her for her sacrilege. She opened the door and crept inside. 

Not a candle in sight. The library was lit by moonbeams that rained through the arched windows, the soft sound of parchment rustling in the cool night’s breeze. Elyse felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, gooseflesh beginning to blossom with the chill. 

What was wrong with her? Why could she not be excited to journey to Highgarden? She felt as though she was failing at being a lady. She let her fingers dance over the spines of the books that lined the shelves. 

A heartbeat later the door behind her clicked open once more and Aemond Targaryen entered the library. She turned as he pressed the door closed. She could just make out the shape of him before he stepped towards her into the moonlight.

My prince,” she said, nodding towards the floor. He said nothing, standing in the moonlight. 

“The hour is late, I must retire to my chambers,” she told him when he did not speak. Aemond continued to be silent. 

“My prince?” she asked in a desperate plea. Aemond’s jaw twitched at her words, and his fingers flexed. 

“You are to be married soon, yet you still call so prettily to me,” he murmured and Elyse felt her mouth go dry. Even now, he would not cease his torment.

“What would your betrothed flower lord say?”

Elyse felt tears prick in her eyes and bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

“He is not my betrothed,” Elyse whispered, but Aemond clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Can’t say that anymore.” 

“It is true,” Elyse insisted, but she felt foolish. Like a small child demanding to get her way. She could see Aemond’s tongue moving over his teeth. 

“The ravens fly for Storm’s End. Nothing to be done now,” Aemond said, reaching out to touch the fabric of her dress. 

“Unless of course, you plan to take my brother up on his offer.”

Elyse slapped him before she realized. Her eyes were wide, palm stinging. Aemond had barely moved from the blow. He turned his face back to her and his pupil was blown, nearly encompassing the violet entirely. He smiled lazily at her. 

“That is not the slight you intend it to be.”

Elyse raised her hand to strike him again. He caught her wrist, fingers wrapping around it entirely. Elyse scrunched her face in anger as she raised her other hand, only to be trapped again. Aemond pressed into her then, pushing her against the bookshelves. Hot, angry tears spilled down her cheeks. 

“Let me go.”

“No,” he said, face inches away from hers. He watched the tears roll down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling with her panting breath. He wished to lick the salty streams from her cheeks. 

“What do you want?” Elyse demanded, Aemond’s eye finding its way to her lips. “It is about time we stopped this dalliance.”

“I do not know what dalliance you speak of,” he answered. 

“You’re impossible,” Elyse told him, at her wit's end. 

Aemond flexed his fingers around her wrists, head cocking to the side. 

“You speak nonsense.”

Elyse cocked an eyebrow at him, an incredulous half-smile sliding on her face. She felt as though she had nothing to lose. 

“Do I? Perhaps I should invite Prince Aegon to my chambers after all then,” she goaded, causing Aemond’s grip on her wrists tightens, a growl rumbling low in his chest. Elyse was startled at his reaction, the primal rage in his eye. As though she belonged to him. As though she was his.

“Stop this game,” Elyse demanded, fearful of the passion in his eye. Of the way he looked at her even though she was destined to leave the capital at the break of day. 

“You talk as though you’ve played no part.”

Elyse’s cheeks darkened as she avoided his gaze. Aemond reveled in her reaction claiming a victory, his breeches feeling suddenly excruciatingly constricting. 

Aemond released the grip on her left wrist, letting his hand fall to her shoulder. His fingers dug painfully into her collarbone causing Elyse to release a breathy moan. Aemond felt his jaw slack at the sound. He leaned forward into her. 

“Have you not enjoyed it?” he taunted, his voice a seductive whisper. She could feel the sharp curve of his nose pressing into a sensitive spot below her ear. Elyse struggled to keep her composure, digging her fingers into his bicep. The hard muscle rippled under her touch.

The feeling of his thumb pressing into the dip of her throat made her head spin. She could feel his breath on her face and her hand that was still entrapped above her head curled into a fist. His teasing words made something deep within her flutter. 

“It is over then?” Elyse asked through her teeth. 

Aemond hummed, letting his hand ghost down the side of her breast following her ribs, down the curve of her waist until he reached her outer thigh. It took every ounce of self-control not to let her eyes roll into the back of her head. 

His large hand pressed into the meat of her thigh, she could feel the cool metal of Elenei’s handle dig into her. 

Aemond let out a breathless laugh as he felt the blade, before curling his fingers into her thigh hoisting her leg up against him, allowing himself more room to press himself closer to her. Ours is the fury indeed. 

Elyse choked out a breath with Aemond’s movement as he held her open against the shelves. Elyse bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he pressed his leg against her center, warmth pooling between her legs. Seven hells. 

“Unless you’d prefer to continue,” Aemond said, voice low and reverberating through his chest.

“Take me then,” Elyse challenged, unsure of where her sudden bravery had come from. Aemond met her gaze. 

“Take me to wife,” Elyse begged, her heart on display for him. Aemond watched her carefully, eye searching her face for any sense of falsehood in the statement. Aemond could sense ill intentions like a hound catches a scent. He found none in her pleading eyes. 

Suddenly, he released his grip on her, peeling his body from hers. Aemond took a step back and shook his head sharply as if waking himself from a dream. Elyse was trembling.

He had gone too far if she was speaking of leaving her flower lord. He looked at her and she was beautiful. Her hair was darker than the midnight sky and disheveled around her face. 

Doe-eyed and lips plush, waiting for him to kiss her. To ruin her. And he wanted to. Seven hells did he want to give himself to her. Aemond’s mind clawed to its last bit of sanity. 

“He shall make you happier than I ever could,” he told her, though it pained him to do so.

The silence between them lay heavy. 

“I do not believe that.”

He could have kissed her. Aemond instead bit his tongue. 

“Then you are a foolish girl.” 

Elyse flinched at the insult, his words slicing through her. She was suddenly a child again, reaching towards him as he pulled away yet again.

“Stop it.”

“A foolish child then.”

“And you are a coward.”

Aemond bared his teeth with rage but Elyse did not care. She was seething with anger. Never had she felt so used, so tormented to the point of exhaustion. She hated him. She despised him at the moment. He closed the space between them once more, nostrils flared with anger. Elyse kept her chin held high. 

“You’re a coward, Aemond Targaryen,” she hissed, hoping the words wounded him as much as he had hurt her. 

Aemond could see the pain behind the anger in her eyes. He did not deserve the affection she offered him. He swallowed a lump beginning to form in his throat. He would do her this kindness. 

“Go to the Reach, Elyse,” Aemond growled, his breath wafting over her face making her head spin once more. 

“I shall.” 

“Become another flower for his collection.”

“Better his flower than your….,” she said through her teeth, not finishing her sentence. She did not know what she was to him.

The dragon and the doe held each other’s gaze. 

“Then go,” he hissed, and Elyse pushed past him leaving the library. 

Aemond stood in the moonlight for several moments after Elyse had fled. 

Hot tears flowed down Elyse’s face as she blindly threw herself into her chambers. 

She grabbed the chair at her desk for some stability and reached for the scroll on her desk. She tore it wildly, eviscerating any evidence that Lord Maceon had written to her at all. 

Aemond did not want her. Not in any way that mattered. The rejection stung Elyse’s heart, it felt more painful and rawer than when Jace became betrothed. 

Elyse found sleep deep into the dead of night when it seemed she was unable to cry any longer. 

Somewhere across King’s Landing, the mournful lament of a dragon filled the starry sky.

As the hour of the wolf came, the Red Keep was silent with the promise of many changes hanging in the air. 

Queen Alicent had just left her husband to return to her own chambers when with a final breath, King Viserys I departed the known world with the Stranger. 

Read more on AO3

[skaikruswan]

I walk beside you - Chapter 3

Summary: “I have not heard these words in ages,” a deep, male voice says, and before you can answer, you wake up.Your dreams start changing once you realize that you’re not alone as you think. Who is this man and why does he know you? How do you know him?

Pairing: Dream / Morpheus x reader

Chapter 1       Chapter 2               My other fics / prompts 

AO3: May everyone who leaves a kudo (or even a comment) awake well-rested. 

Chapter 3 

You wish you could say that you were ready to fall asleep, but you weren’t. You arrived at your home, your head full of questions, with your heart demanding answers.

Morpheus. The name has rung a bell, and one quick research later has revealed that in Greek mythology, he’s the god of dreams. You sat in stupor for a while, blankly staring at the screen. You managed to meet the god of dreams, and somehow share a profound history with him. A history you want to unravel.

You let out a long sigh as you pace around in your bedroom. You’re not stupid. From what he has told you, you have concluded that he has met several versions of you, each one unique, each one meeting him without any past knowledge. Incarnations. If you’re not completely wrong, this means that you’re the most recent reincarnation. This sounds like something out a supernatural tv show or book, and for your state of mind, you try not to think too much about it.

You grab a pillow and throw it up like a ball, eager to occupy your hands. You still have so many questions, but there is one only you can answer.

Do you want to get involved with him? You’ve always liked fantasy and know many stories of mortals giving their hearts to immortals. It often ended in tragedy, for the mortal and the immortal. Does he miss and mourn each incarnation? Wouldn’t it be a kindness to spare him the pain of losing you? Then again, you feel as if he remembers your past incarnations fondly. He had been nothing but kind and understanding as he answered your questions, a soft look on his eternal face as he seems to sink into his memories.

He may be fond of them, but will he be fond of you? That is another question that plagues you. Then again, if you don’t try, you will never know.

You squeeze the pillow, your mind made up. You’ve accepted this challenge, and you will see it through. Maybe the next dream can be something like a first date? You smush your face in the pillow, your cheek already growing hot.

Lying down on your bed, pulling your soft blanket over you, you are ready.

The beach is still beautiful, but you couldn’t care less as your toes sink into the white sand. Twirling around, you race towards the forest. This is a dream, your dream. You assume that it is Morpheus who intervenes, conjuring up the storm, but how certain are you? Maybe it is a part of being an incarnation?

After running down the path, you take a deep breath. Part of you wonders what will happen if you continue without saying the phrase, but you have a hunch that it won’t work. Moreover, it would be boring and anti-climactic.

“The path before me doesn’t frighten me, I want to forever walk beside you.” You don’t wait for the storm to start, you just walk. You walk until every step feels like you’ve run a marathon, your lungs heaving for air as you walk inside the eye of a storm.

Enough of that. Time to take control and make some progress. Will it work? Hopefully. But right now, it’s your best shot.

You close your eyes, comfortable in the darkness that seems to drown out everything else. You picture a meadow, the grass soft and swaying in the faint breeze. Red, blue, white, yellow, purple, pink, every color you like fills your vision as flowers, from simple daisies to fancy orchids, bloom. You see it so vividly that you can almost smell the floral fragrance.

You open your eyes, and the storm is gone as you’re standing inside that meadow.

“Wohoo!” you cheer, savoring your victory. For a moment, you think that you hear a deep chuckle. The meadow really is lovely, and you’re almost tempted to stay for a while, but you have places to go. The palace and Morpheus are waiting.

To your surprise, you see one path leading you away from the meadow. You don’t know if you have been walking for a minute or for hours; time is weird anyhow in dreams. You walk through a desert, scrambling up and down the dunes. You walk over a snowy mountain, the snowflakes melting on your cheeks. You walk through a big city, feeling almost back in reality, if it weren’t for the fact that there is not a soul around you.

How big is the dream world? It feels endless, and you can’t even see the palace. But you know that if you stop, even just for a little break, that it will be hell to get back. So you suck it up and march on.

You arrive at a massive gate, stretching as far as you can see. Fantastic beings, animals, and figures are carved in awe-inspiring detail, gleaming like finest ivory. If this is another challenge, you’re going to force yourself to wake up and come back the next night, you decide as you carefully knock three times.

“You have made it. Impressive.” You hoped that he would appear, but seeing Morpheus appear at your side still startles you. You lean over, your hands resting on your knees as you take a deep breath. As you stand up straight, you see something almost like pride gleaming inside these fathomless eyes. He still looks like a dark vision, messy inky hair matching his black clothes. His face is hard to put into words, and you suddenly understand why ancient artists spend centuries trying to capture the splendor of the gods.

“I could have done it in my sleep,” you say with a nonchalant shrug. After that journey, you deserve to brag a little. You wonder how long the other incarnations have taken to reach the castle, before stopping that train of thought. You’re not comparing yourself.

“You did well.” It’s easy to miss, but there was a small smile on his lips, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Allow me to bring us into the palace,” Morpheus asks, extending his hand. You give him high credit for asking, for letting you choose. You figure that a god isn’t used to considering other people. You nod, laying your hand on his, feeling his long fingers hold onto you.

The next moment, you’re standing inside the palace, a long staircase winding upside to a platform where a dark throne stands. You’ve been in churches and cathedrals, but their windows can’t hold a candle to these three massive glass artworks. Each time you blink they seem to change: a sky of twinkling stars, a garden full of roses, the northern lights, your favorite picture of you and your best friend. It is almost fascinating enough to rip you away from the man next to you.

“This is a palace worthy of a god,” you whisper, before covering your hand with your mouth. You meant what you said, but you don’t know why you said it out loud. You don’t want to reduce Morpheus to his palace or his godhood.

“I am not a god,” Morpheus states, and yet you feel his power, the core of his limitless force vibrating in this place. You have no doubt that he’s the ruler of this palace, of this realm.

“Aren’t you Morpheus, the Greek god of dreams?” you ask, your curiosity boundless and you self-preservation non-existent. In this moment, you choose to ignore all the terrible fates you’ve read about mortals who offended or defied gods.

“No. I am older than your gods. Morpheus is only one of the many names humanity has given me: Kaikul, Oneiros, Tutu, to name a few. I am Dream of the Endless.”

You open your mouth, and close it again. He’s more than a god. What kind of being stands over gods? You swallow thickly, wishing for a moment that you had never brought up the subject. You like to believe that this is normal, that your mortal mind just needs time to come to terms with that. You think that you will stick to calling him Morpheus, since that name suits him.

He’s standing still, his arms crossed, seemingly waiting for you to react. How often did he have that conversation? Did the other incarnations react better or worse than you? Questions upon questions, and you want to scream into the abyss.

“Great boss, I think you broke her,” a voice snarks, and you latch onto that comment, eager for some diversion. A familiar raven soars above the throne before flying down and landing one the bottom stair.

“Birdie?” you ask, taking one step forward to give the raven an inquiring look. You’re no expert on ravens, but this one really looks like the one from the previous days.

“It’s Matthew, thank you very much. Oh, and thanks for the treat,” the raven answers. Even while dreaming, talking animals remain amazing, and you let out a stupefied laugh.

“Do we know each other?” you ask Matthew and Morpheus, only for both to shake their heads. You deflate a little; having somebody other than Morpheus to talk to would have been nice.

“Sorry, I am very new at the job, and this is just as exciting to me than it is to you. I didn’t know that the boss had…” His answer was cut short by a withering glare from Morpheus, and you grin. You need to have a solo conversation with Matthew.

“Matthew’s predecessor, Jessamy, used to know some of your incarnations. Most of them considered her a friend. I think she would have liked you,” Morpheus explains, his voice filled with sorrow, the grief almost palpable on his face. Matthew lets out a doleful caw.

“I am sorry,” you say, hesitantly reaching out to hold his hand. He lets you, and you circle your thumb over the smooth back of his hand. You hope that you didn’t overstep, but as you steal a glance at him, his expression a little less pained, you think that you didn’t.

“So am I.” He squeezes your hand before letting go. The moment has passed, but you know that there will be others.

“There is a place I would like you to see,” Morpheus says, and once again your reach for his extended hand.

This time, you find yourself in the center of a great library, bookshelves upon bookshelves stretching far and high, the scent of paper and leather filling your nose.

“Wow.”

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Forty-One

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a Major No No), Panic Attacks (Desire Mind Fuckery), Morpheus Gets Proper MAD (And Goes A Little Overboard), Reader Is A Glutton For Punishment.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).

Word Count: ~4.1k

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You were surprised to wake up with Morpheus still in bed with you. You had hoped that he was would stay for at the very least, a few hours to get proper rest, but you hadn’t anticipated him staying the entire night, and then waking up with him. Did Endless sleep? Did they dream? Either way Morpheus was seemingly passed out against your chest, right where you had wanted him last night, with a strong hold on your naked body. You looked back down at the mop of black hair resting against your chest and moved your fingers back through the strands.

Looking beyond the fluttering drapes of your bed, you saw that Morpheus had been correct when he had said that the realm would return to normal by morning. The sun was just staring to rise over the mountains in the distance. It was like that noxious thunderstorm had never happened… and yet the rain had brought the flora to life. Your mind drifted to your dead garden. Poor Mervyn most likely had been staring at it for the past week, wondering if he should touch it or not. The dead plants and broken path had to be dreadful to look at. The fountain worse…

The first chance you had you were going to head down to the north garden and bring it back to life.

You hadn’t realized your fingers had ceased their combing until Morpheus moved his head and nudged your still hand like a cat demanding attention. That was not far from the truth. Sharp blue eyes opened and stared at you expectantly, then with question. You gazed down at Morpheus and raised an eyebrow in challenge as you brushed several black strands from his forehead.

“You know I’m right,” You quietly murmured, now running your fingers along his forehead. “You are quite like a cat. Very particular.”

“A cat?” He repeated, his eyebrows rising in turn. You smiled in agreement and combed your fingers through his hair once more.

“A very beautiful cat,” You added, your smiling growing. You dropped your fingers to trace his cheek bone while gazing into his eyes. “With the most incredibly blue eyes I have ever seen. At times I swear I can see stars in them.” Morpheus returned your gaze for a few more moments before rising onto his hands and looming over you, his face hovering close to yours. You stared at each other for a few moments more. Then he was leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. A flurry of sensations erupted from your belly and spread a warmth of love throughout your body. Blooming like a flower under the sun, you cradled his face in hand and happily returned his early morning kiss that you could feel all the way to your toes.

“You are a very dangerous creature, my dream,” Morpheus spoke, his forehead coming to rest against yours. You softly chuckled and brushed your thumb across his cheek once more.

“Yes? Do tell me all the reasons why the great and majestic Dream of the Endless deems little Y/N Burgess as a very dangerous creature…” You softly returned, not being able to resist the light hearted quip. Morpheus made you feel like a candle flame beckoning a moth, irresistible though it burned fragile wings until all that was left was a heart to bare. Morpheus was able to bring out the best in you. He was the only one that could.

“Y/N Burgess has captured the heart of an Endless, and that heart is hers to do what she bids and wills.” Your heart fluttered rapidly in your chest and licks of flames started to claw at the walls of your veins.

“And she has given hers to Dream of the Endless for safe keeping.” You replied breathless. “We shall keep each other safe, shall we?”

“Until the end of eternity,” Morpheus promised, his words sending a ripple of assurance that was all consuming. That warmth that had spread through your body now burned with unadulterated happiness. You lifted your chin, your nose brushing against his as your lips brushed against each other ever so slightly. “If you think you can manage my siblings and their never ending curiosity about my personal life.”

His words were like a bucket of ice cold water being dumped on your body. All warmth and happiness vanished, leaving your body feeling cold and hollow, empty, afraid. The fear that had surged into your veins was unstoppable, it was like a rogue wave crashing and surging without restrain. Destroying every little happiness in its path. You gasped in fear, a tremble ripping its way up your spine until you were consumed. Morpheus was gripping your cheeks and trying to draw you out of the cloud of oppressive despair. He called your name. Once. Twice. Three times, even. Nothing could break the lock that held you captive to terror. Your eyes burned as hot tears welled in your lashes. Then you started fighting against the hands trying to sooth your agitated state. You were close to thrashing against those hands.

“Y/N, my dream,” Morpheus called one last time, holding you as close as he possibly could. His eyes glowed silver. Yours burned just the same. “Just breathe, please,” You were hyperventilating as tears slipped down your cheeks. Lips trembling, you sucked in air while your eyes remained captivated by his. “That’s it.”

“I—“ You choked out, trying to spit out the words you had held in secret for weeks. You had to tell him now. You had to. “Morpheus I—“ His fingers brushed against your lips, he wanted you to focus on your breathing… but you couldn’t hold onto this secret that seemed to cut deeper into your flesh the longer you held it. “I remember.” Confusion hit him for a few moments as you continued to suck in air like it was the only thing keeping you alive. You still found it difficult to breathe with all emotions welling up in your heaving chest. Several more streaks of hot tears ran down your cheeks and Morpheus wiped them away.

“What do you remember, my dream?” Morpheus probed gently, his eyes searching your wide and frantic ones. You squeezed them shut, not being able to bare holding his gaze when you had betrayed him like that. No. Your mind whispered. You didn’t betray him, Desire did. But it still felt as raw as if you had been the one to step on up and kiss Desire. Like you had wanted to kiss them. You hadn’t, but why did your heart feel as thought it did?

“Desire,” You whimpered out, your heart sinking in your chest while feeling as if needles were stabbing at it over and over until it was an unrecognizable organ struggling to beat within your chest. Rippling rage exploded from Morpheus and you cowered back against the sheets, trying to protect yourself from the fury and wrath coming from him. It tapered back when Morpheus realized that you were cowering, whimpering, a mess. His hands were never anything but soft against your wet cheeks.

“Y/N, what did they do?” Morpheus asked, reaching to cradle your body against his. He was barely controlling his rage and concentrating on sending you waves of calming energy that wrapped around your soul in a soothing hug.

“That night you pulled me from the bath, Desire wanted to talk,” You said in a dead whisper. “They—“ Your voice cracked. “They want me to themselves, tried to manipulate me into staying and— and—“ You felt breathless again. “and when you were tugging me back they kissed me.” You started stumbling for words, your voice at a wail. “I— it’s all my fault and I should have— Why couldn’t I—“

 It was hard to breathe again and a fresh set of tears gathered in your eyes. Despair was twitching into your heart, stabbing at it viciously until it was all you could think about. Morpheus blocked his fury and rage from you this time, but you doubt you would have felt it through all the agonizing pain ripping into your chest. Writhing in place, your hands scratched at your chest, your nails trying their best to claw out the mangled organ causing so much pain and anguish. You wanted to scream. You would scream. But Morpheus was moving before you could let out the piercing note. Your back was pressed back against your bedsheets and Morpheus was swallowing that scream aggressively. One of his hands ripped your nails away from your chest, leaving behind claw marks, and the other gripped your throat, fingers sliding up until they were just beneath your chin. Control. He was reigning in your out of control emotions.

Harsh kisses that nipped and tugged at your lips until you were limp, pliable mess, very quickly drove off the agonizing feelings until all you could think about was the mouth that hungrily roaming every millimeter of your lips. Then Morpheus moved onto mouthing at the corners of your lips, and then your cheeks, to your neck… his lips were everywhere. Whispers of his power ran over your skin and wrapped around your body like possessive vines. Morpheus’s anger was still palpable, but you were starting to see through it. He wasn’t mad at you, he was enraged at Desire. Your mind was comforted but that seed of doubt still poisoned your mind.

“You’re mine, Y/N, only mine,” Morpheus growled darkly against your neck, teeth raking over your fluttering pulse. “It is I who watched over you, who placed a part of myself within you, who shared my power. Me.” Your chin was angled back down so you could stare wide-eyed into blazing silver eyes. Possession burned through rage. Mine. Mine. Mine. His mouth sharpened into a deadly snarl and frozen in place like a deer caught beneath predatory gaze, all you could hear was your heart trying to run out of your chest. “You are not to share.”

Hands gripped your body harshly, pushing and pulling your flesh. At the mercy of what Morpheus wanted, you stayed locked up in bright mercury eyes as your thighs were spread apart once more. Then his cock was sinking back into your more than sore cunt, going even deeper than he had before. Your back arched as the oxygen was stolen from your chest. Nails digging into the soft sheets you were pressed against, thoughts of breathing left your mind as Morpheus dragged your chin upwards and your lips mashed together once more. How was this Dream when he was everything you Desired? There was nothing gentle about the way he was making love to you. No, this wasn’t making love, it was just fucking. You didn’t have the mind to complain, you were too wrapped up in ecstasy to care how Morpheus was pleasuring you.

The swollen folds of your cunt easily took in every thrust he gave you, clinging tightly despite being overloaded with electric pleasure that had long since made your mind swim. You wrapped your legs over his waist and reached up to slip your arms beneath his to hold him closer to you as you arched into the kiss, biting back for a change. A growl rumbled in Morpheus’s chest and you simply dug your nails into the taut muscles stretched over his shoulder blades, having not one care anymore. You just wanted more. Morpheus broke the rapid kiss and dived down to the skin of your breast, sinking his teeth into the flesh until there would be marks. That only heightened the pleasure racing through your veins and rippling through your cunt. A moan brewed deep in your throat and the next thrust set to rattle your body, you met with a twist of your hips. Teeth released your breast and with a feral sound and with molten mercury eyes burning their way into your soul, his face leaned down to the point where black locks brushed your cheeks.

“Is that how you wish for me?” Morpheus’s voice was low and guttural. “Primitive? To give in to my darkest desires to have you all to myself?” His voice deepened with every word, and your walls clenched his cock in delight. Anything. You would take anything for your heart to know you were his. You would carve his name on the battered organ if you could. A tortured moan traveled up your spine when his cock hit a spot within your cunt that made an explosion of pleasure erupt. Your threw your head back, trying not to let lightheadedness from being over sensitized take over. Morpheus’s hand slipped around your throat, and then to the back of your neck, forcing your gaze back to his. “Tell me, my dream,” He spoke, his nose brushing against yours. “You think yourself to be strong enough to handle me? Shall I indulge in the likes of which I crave?”

You were a glutton for punishment and his words only spurred your own desires on. So with swollen and bitten lips parting in a tremble, you gave him your strained, whisper soft response:

“I dare you to try and break me, dream lord.”

The entire room shuddered at your challenge, waves of power rippling at the beautifully carved furniture and disturbing the gossamer fabric framing the windows and doors. Perhaps you had pushed him one word too far, but then the flood of desire, need, want, craving, hunger, yearning hit you so fast you nearly blacked out. You were floating for a few seconds, barely feeling the tugs and pulls at your body but you did feel this: that mouth watering pleasure disappeared from your body and you were left feeling hollow. You whimpered further when Morpheus’s intoxicating body heat lifted from yours. In seconds you were on your stomach and lips were tearing up your back with lightning kisses that had you twisting in place. You didn’t get far. Hands ceased your wiggling by your hips and you aired out a moan, feeling your cunt ache and clench. A hand slipped under your body, fingers splayed wide, and pushed up until Morpheus was grasping you chin again. He bent down and pressed his body against yours. The tip of his cock pushed against your pulsating cunt teasingly and you whimpered once more, fingers grasping at soft silk.

“You think you can handle me, my dream?” Morpheus whispered in your ear, his free hand wandering across your hip to the thatch of hair you carefully maintained after Jemima had convinced you to get a Brazilian with her. You hadn’t liked the feeling of being completely bare and did not appreciate the painful beauty standard. His fingers slipped through them and gathered the moisture clinging to your cunt. He surely felt your shiver from his touch.

“Was I not born for you?” The words spilled out of your mouth spontaneously without a thought to say them. But they felt one hundred percent true. “Am I not made to love you unconditionally with everything I have?” He stroked your chin, thumb lingering on your lip.

“Your body knows, but does your mind?” Morpheus countered. Hips thrust forwards and you lurched slightly, gasping against his thumb and feeling pleasure rocket up and down your spine. Body rigid and trembling beneath his, little noises periodically slipped from your parted lips. “I can feel the seed of venom they’ve leeched into your mind.” Another thrust, this time sharper than the last. You choked on your next gasp. “Wrapping around your heart and digging its barbs into you, warping you against me, pushing you away from me, poisoning you against me.” He was growling his displeasure into your ear. “Must I mark you up to show that you are mine? Shall I put a gilded collar around your neck for all to see!?”

The thought of having a collar, no matter how demeaning you would have normally thought it to be, went straight to your cunt and you were squeezing his cock with your rippling walls. Then your back arched into his chest. Your reaction to his growled words was answer enough for Morpheus because moments later something was slithering across the column of your neck and a vaguely familiar hum of energy pressed against your chest. You jerked a hand to your heaving chest and your fingertips grappled against the surface of the ruby necklace you had ripped from your neck so many weeks ago. That would do. Fingers pressing the humming ruby against your breast, you felt your thighs start to quake in pain. Your muscles were protesting what your body wanted to unleash.

Morpheus could feel you fighting off yet another orgasm that would surely deplete your body of any fight you had left. One of his hands wound itself into your hair and pulled your head back far enough that your neck strained in pain. His mouth pressed back against your neck, harshly working against your over sensitive skin like he couldn’t get enough of a taste. It only got worse when his magic swept over your writhing body and took it captive. It caressed the places that burned with pleasure, stroked over skin that showed bruising from Morpheus’s possessive love, and buried itself into your body to worm its way into your poisoned mind and heart. It dug its way into that seed of doubt planted by Desire and proceeded to tear it apart. You let out a sharp cry of pain as the magic all but ripped what Desire had left behind, from your mind and heart. The moment it left you, your entire body shuddered and gave out. There was a roar in your ears and you couldn’t hear anything for a few precious seconds. The crashing crescendo continued to shock your body until your limbs felt like lead blocks. You breathed heavily against the pillow your cheek was now resting on, gasping for air.

“Morpheus?” You wheezed, drawing an arm to your chest and pressing your fingers over your left breast. Your heart was still racing, but no longer suffering from that agonizing pain. “What— what the bloody hell was that,” The being in question, who was laid out next to you with his face buried in your shoulder blades with his arms around your body to cradle you ever so gently, was not quick to respond. Eventually he did.

“Desire’s magic,” He answered, his own voice strained. “Before they let me pull you back they planted a seed of doubt within your mind and heart. It was chipping away at you and would have driven you mad from emotion,” What emotions you could vaguely feel from the bond indicated that he was still very irate with his younger sibling. You weren’t that far behind him. “The power I gave you is immense, if Desire were to bring you to their side the power balance would be greatly disturbed.”

“You don’t need to worry about me jumping sides,” You rasped out, your hand seeking his. You found it and your fingers curled through Morpheus’s longer ones, clinging tightly. “Have you any idea how much it hurts at the idea of betraying you? It is physical pain I do not wish to endure or experience ever again. It hurt so much.”

Morpheus pressed his lips against your shoulder, planting kisses over and over against your skin.

“That night was more than enough of an example, my dream, and I should not like to see you in that much pain or terror ever again.” Morpheus whispered against your neck, his hair brushing against your ear. “Neither should I ever like to see you flinch away from me.”

With what felt like the weight of the universe off your shoulders, you slumped into your pillow and leaned back into his embrace, letting exhaustion pull you to sleep.

Morpheus held you as long as his conscious would allow, but the entire time he held you close his mind was brewing with anger towards his younger sibling. It was one thing to nip you away out of curiosity, but to do it a second time with blatant disregard and then make advances on his bonded? Morpheus was close to wanting to draw blood. He would even go as far as kill Desire is that is what his bonded asked of him. Morpheus dropped his eyes to your bare shoulder and lightly drew his fingers across your skin. He let his fingers continue across your arm to your side, and then hip. You were an ethereal creature that was all his. Only his. Leaning forwards, Morpheus pressed his nose into your exposed neck and took a breath. You smelled of dryad herbal mixes combined with the electric edge of magic that hummed just beneath your skin. His magic. Now that he had pulled every drop of Desire’s poisonous touch from your mind, all you smelled of was him.

Reluctantly pulling away from his sleeping queen, Morpheus rose to his feet and dressed himself. As his jacket buttoned itself, Morpheus turned to look at you once more. You hadn’t moved a millimeter at his withdrawal, your mind was lost to the comforting land of your dreams. He found himself staring at your body languidly stretched out against the sheets, curled and innocent. How long had it been since he had last seen you this relaxed? It must have been years. He raised his hand and gave your naked body one last look in appreciation before gesturing to the sheets. They slipped across naked skin and tucked his sleeping queen in. Leaving you sleeping, Morpheus strode through his palace with one destination in mind.

Your face was smushed into the pillow and your right arm was hanging off the bed, dangling, and entirely numb. Rolling onto your back and holding your tingling arm to your chest, you blearily stared at the drapes lofting overhead. You ached everywhere, most of all between your legs. Heat rose in your cheeks and sneaking a hand beneath the silk sheets covering your body, you trailed your fingers down your flesh until they reached your inner thighs. You softly gasped at feeling the dried mess clinging to your thighs. Your cunt clenched and a deep ache emanated from within your body. Ouch. Sharply retracting your fingers from your far too sensitive body parts, you clutched your hand to your chest and breathed through the massive ache at rattled your spine. This was all your fault, Morpheus. What was even the point of that bath? The Endless was insatiable and very hard to resist once he was enticed.

Nothing you had experienced before could compare to being loved by an Endless. It was intense and nothing short of a whole body worship. Your fingers creeped up your chest to feel the ruby humming against your skin. It helped to supplement the absence of Morpheus. As your fingers traveled around the delicate chain, you noticed one clear glaring fact about this necklace: it had no clasp. You instantly went to poke at Morpheus.

Gilded collar with no clasp, my love?

He didn’t respond but you felt a ripple of amusement from him, it was also tinged with smugness. Huffing where you lay, you chose to not go after him for putting a piece of jewelry on you that couldn’t be taken off by normal conventions. Fingers playing with the chain, you rotated your head and looked out the windows. It was bright outside, well past morning and quite possibly afternoon at this point. You needed to clean up because there was no way you were going to be walking around the palace with that mess still dried to your thighs. Working up the motivation, you carefully shifted your body into a sitting position, wrinkling your nose when it physically hurt to sit. At least Jemima no longer could harp on you about getting rid of your v-card as she called it. You and Morpheus had probably gone a little overboard last night all things considered.

Standing up was a little easier on your body but every step that you took towards the bathroom was more like a waddle. Were you well loved or well fucked? Both. Definitely both. Entering the bath, you stared at the empty bath with a curl in your bitten lip. You were not going to ask for help because the state of your body was flush inducing. As it turned out, glaring at the empty tub long enough combined with tugging on your power source worked well enough that you had a steaming, bubbling bath in front of you in no time. Easing your body down, you sighed as the water eased some of the aches that plagued your limbs. Also your fault, Morpheus. Leaning back, you started humming a tune in your head and let all of the aches and pains you felt leech from your body.

Date Published: 12/30/22

Last Edit: 8/23/23

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