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ashtheketchum · 7 months ago

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● Some revenge ●

Daryl Dixon X fem.Reader

Era: Season 11, Commonwealth

Summary: The neighbors in your new home are way too loud. So you and Daryl got revenge. Warnings: +18 CONTENT, , FEM.Reader, unprotected sex, doggy style, handjob, dirty talk, spanking, petnames (like Baby and Babe)

Words: 2.4k

Masterlist!

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PoV (Y/N):

We had been living in the Commonwealth for a while now and Daryl and I already had jobs too. While Daryl worked with the other soldiers, I had to work at a bookstore. Although I wanted to work with Daryl, Hornsby said I would be better off with a quieter job. It annoyed me, but I accepted it and worked in that store from morning to night. Sometimes Judith and RJ came by to keep me company, but whenever I saw them, I saw tired faces. And I also knew the reason why.

Although we lived in a small apartment, the walls were incredibly thin so you could hear everything. And the neighbors weren't particularly quiet.They talked way too loudly, had parties, or listened to loud music. And it didn't seem to bother anyone else, because when Daryl and I went to complain, all we got was the statement that the problem would be resolved soon. And that was quite a while ago.

So I sit tiredly in my chair, reading a book while I come up with a plan to solve this problem. Daryl had often suggested solving it in his way, but luckily I was always able to stop him. But then an idea came to me. The city knew that I had been with Daryl for several years now and I wanted to take advantage of that. The knowledge alone didn't even make many men think about looking at me askance. So with a slight feeling of happiness, I finished my work a little earlier and prepared everything for my plan. To do this, I picked up Judith and RJ from school and I made sure that they both slept somewhere other than in our apartment. And after that, I had to discuss everything with Daryl.

That same day I got the apartment ready, I got the bed ready, I put on provocative underwear and I also prepared some food. Of course I still had my pants and shirt on over my underwear, but I was still a little happy. It was becoming increasingly rare that Daryl and I had sex, but whenever we did, it was incredibly good. While I was preparing the meal, I heard the neighbors, who could never be quiet, enter their apartment and prepare everything for a loud evening. But I would be faster and hopefully it would be a little quieter. Daryl would even come home a little early. "Then let's start the plan..." I muttered quietly to myself before I heard our door unlock and Daryl step inside. "I´m back." He just grumbled loudly.

I walked up to him and hugged him tightly, a big smile on my lips. “Hey... How was your day?" I asked as I gave him a kiss on the cheek. Daryl just hummed quietly before resting his head on my shoulder. This was enough of an answer for me and I ran my fingers through his hair. He seemed very tired, I almost wanted to ditch the idea so he could rest. But I could hardly open my mouth before we heard the neighbors laughing loudly. Daryl and I both growled in annoyance before we separated and I went back into the kitchen while Daryl took off his shoes. "Where are Judith and RJ?” He asked as I spread our food onto our plates. "I sent them both somewhere else for the night, to friends' houses to be exact." "Oh? Why’s tha´?” I heard him ask and the next moment I heard his armor being stripped off.

I bit my bottom lip uncertainly before turning to look at him. Daryl only had on his black pants and his black sweater, which he always wore under his armor. The material was a little tighter to his skin than his other clothes, which is why I could see his slight muscles. I unconsciously licked my lips as I studied him. The archer noticed this, of course, and hummed briefly in amusement. He slowly walked towards me until he was standing in front of me, resting his hands behind me on the kitchen counter. “Ya have anythin´ special planned, woman?” His voice seemed a little deeper than it actually was and I had to grin slightly. "Yes… I wanted to take care of the neighbors… and I need your help for that…" My voice also became a little quieter, more passionate and Daryl growled softly.

My eyes filled with lust and I slowly moved my hand up his chest. “What’s on yar mind?” Before I answered his question, I pressed my lips firmly against his. Immediately the archer growled and he wrapped his arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him even closer to me. Our lips moved against each other in a quick rhythm until I let my tongue roam his bottom lip. He immediately reciprocated my action by licking my lower lip and then sliding his tongue into my mouth. My tongue immediately received his and I moaned loudly against his lips. His hands moved lower and lower until they were on my ass. He pinched it gently once, making me whimper and jump up immediately. His strong arms immediately went under my thighs and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

Our pelvises were now rubbing right against each other and I rolled my hips against his to feel some pressure against my pussy. “Greedy~?” His voice resembled a purr and I hummed loudly. We broke apart briefly to take a breath and looked deeply into each other's eyes. His hands started massaging my butt and I started kissing his neck. I felt Daryl slowly move and in the next few seconds I was lying on our soft bed. Sadly our bedroom was right next to our neighbors living room, but now it couldn't have been better positioned.

Daryl pressed a gentle kiss to my lips before sitting up and wrapping my legs around his waist again. His fingers ran under my shirt and he slowly pushed it up until he could see my stomach. Grumbling, Daryl leaned down and kissed my stomach gently, his stubble tickling my skin a little, making me giggle softly. While he covered my skin with kisses, his fingers pushed my shirt further and further up until my breasts were now exposed. I wore a black bra that was very simple in design. It wasn't anything exciting, but at a time when you had to fight for your own survival and therefore only wore sports bras, this bra was very sexy. “God, ya look good~…” Daryl growled quietly as his gaze went up. I smiled slightly as his kisses continued upward until his lips brushed over my bra.

My nipples were already hard, but you couldn't see them through the bra. Daryl probably had the same thought I had because the next moment he took off my shirt completely and then let his hands go to the straps of the bra. “May I?” "Of course…" And with those words, he slowly pulled the straps from my arms. The thin material gave me goosebumps and I sighed loudly as Daryl opened the clip on my bra and finally took it off. He simply threw both on the floor and didn't give the material any further thought. He then did the same with my pants and panties. He kissed my clit briefly before sitting up again.

He slowly took off his shirt, his strong chest and his scars slowly becoming visible. Daryl had told me about his life back then, what his father had done to him and what he had to go through. I was sorry, but I also wanted to show him that he could feel safe and comfortable with me. Although it took a really long time, his fear gradually subsided and he now even dared to take a shower with me. “You’re perfect…” I murmured, my eyes all dreamy as I looked at his chest. I slowly ran my fingertips over his skin, over his nipples and then over his scar. The archer shuddered briefly before pushing me back down and pressing his face between my breasts.

He sucked greedily on my skin and licked it too. With his rough fingers he massaged my nipples, making me inhale sharply. I arched my back and I felt Daryl rub his pelvis against mine. A noticeable bulge was slowly forming in his pants and the bigger it got, the faster his movements against my pelvis became. My breathing became louder and louder, I had completely blocked out the noises of the neighbors. "God Daryl~…" "I know, baby~…" His voice made me gasp and I felt him slowly pull away from me. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his member, it was already rock hard and a few drops of pre-cum flowed down his shaft. "So hard for ya…~"

I slowly sat up and kissed his stomach gently. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and moved my hand up and down. Daryl gasped softly as I squeezed hard a few times. I spread his pre-cum onto his shaft before he pushed me away and pressed his lips to mine again. Groaning, I closed my eyes, but before I could respond to his kiss, he pulled away from me again. “Turn aroun’~” He didn't even wait but grabbed my waist and turned me onto my stomach before giving my ass a slap. I whimpered loudly as I felt Daryl lift my hips. I laid my upper body on the mattress and turned my face slightly to the side so that I could still breathe.

“Ya wan’ tha’?” Daryl asked, his voice growling. His cock rose against my entrance and I just whimpered loudly. I confirmed his question with a nod and moved my pelvis further against him. He slapped my ass again, making me moan louder this time. I could be loud, shout, moan loudly. It was pretty unusual, but finally being able to do it felt really good. “Yes~! I want you inside me, Daryl! Please!” I then whimpered loudly. Daryl growled briefly again before slowly pushing himself into me.

His cock stretched my inner walls hard, making us both whimper and growl loudly. You could tell we hadn't had sex in a long time, my pussy was incredibly tight and Daryl's breathing was very fast. Just like mine. “God, ya feel good~…” Daryl purred loudly before slapping my ass again. Panting loudly, I gripped the bed sheet tightly while Daryl finally pulled back a little, only to then press himself completely back into me. He thrust into me again and again, our skin slapped against each other loudly, but our voices drowned out the slapping noises. “So good!” I screamed loudly. I could only faintly hear the neighbors murmuring something, but I ignored it and enjoyed the fullness that Daryl gave me. God, we have to fuck more often again.

Daryl moved his hips harder and harder against mine, his hands gripping my hips or waist tightly. Sometimes he would massage my ass, then he would caress my sides, and then he would slap my ass again. He kept this process for quite a while and he made me see stars with it. My eyes rolled back as his tip hit my special spot and I moaned his name loudly. “God, Daryl~…! Yes, fuck~!” “Ya like tha´?… yeh, ya like tha´, baby~” Suddenly his hand was between my shoulder blades and he pushed my upper body a little further down. He lightly pressed my face into the pillow and I screamed loudly into it. But Daryl didn't seem to like the fact that my voice was now much muffled, so he pulled me back up so that my back was pressed against his chest.

"I wan' ya, ta scream loud an' nice, 'kay?" He growled softly in my ear and I breathed faster and faster. I felt a little dizzy from my rapid breathing and Daryl's thrusts. He now buried his face into my shoulder, his right hand went to my breast, which he massaged roughly, and his left hand went to my clit. He massaged my clit in circular motions, just as he swirled his finger around my nipple. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum~…!” I screamed loudly. Daryl just growled loudly before I felt him bite my skin lightly. He wouldn't leave a mark, but it was enough to make me whimper. “Good~…cum aroun’ ma cock, yah?” He then growled in my ear.

His voice gave me goosebumps and I nodded quickly again. The pressure in my abdomen increased and my vision slowly became black. I felt that Daryl's thrusts were becoming more and more irregular and his cock was also throbbing harder inside me. Before I could do anything I came around his shaft and I screamed his name loudly. As loud as I was screaming, the entire house probably heard us, but we didn't care at the moment. “Fuck~…! Yes, jus’ like tha’…” After Daryl said this he pulled out of me and he flipped me over. He gently pushed me back into bed and he kissed my lips briefly. As he pulled away from me, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and he moved them quickly down on us. He put his face between my breasts and he breathed in my scent deeply. The archer growled loudly once before I felt his hot cum on my skin. He sprayed on my stomach and some hit my breasts too.

Breathing heavily, he began kissing my skin as I also tried to get my breathing back under control. “God, that was good…!” I then uttered, with a slight giggle. Daryl just snorted briefly before sitting up and looking at my body. The archer remained silent for a moment before he got up and put his boxershorts back on properly and then got some towels. He gently wiped his cum from my skin before throwing away the towels and placing a kiss on my forehead. “Now the neighbors stay quiet… and if not…” Daryl didn't have to continue, I understood what he meant. A wide grin crept onto my lips before I nodded slightly and gently pressed his lips to mine.

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #smut #daryl dixon x female reader

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kcrossvine-art · 5 months ago

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hi friends! This recipe/review was delayed at first from- well it was a different recipe originally, technically bat tempura should be the next item but id like my first tasting experience of bat to be made by someone else who knows what bat should taste like. The recipe after bat tempura is living armor and id intended to use geoduck to mimic the scale. Living armor is interesting with dunmeshi as they used the suit of armor in 3 different ways; grilling, steaming, and souping.

Affording geoduck, a PNW delicacy, is a stretch for one dish, let alone 3. With my write-ups id like to offer a chance that readers will actually be able to make what we talk about. So I opted to use regular clams instead. I feel myself above the fire so we're still sticking with one dish, the dish that doesnt require a grill or a helmet-esque plating arrangement.

Today in our delicious dungeon, we're going to be making Living Armor Soup!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into Living Armor Soup?” YOU MIGHT ASKThe ingredients used in the show didnt give much to work on, quoting "medicinal herb" and "special sauce".

1 lbs Mussels

Shallots

Garlic

Bay leaf

Curry powder

Chicken stock

Cream

Eggs

Its important to use cream as your dairy, the higher fat content gives you leeway with boiling and acidity to avoid curdling. Any cream should do. Still bring it to temp gently but rest assured in the moo moos protection.

AND, “what does Living Armor Soup taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

A smoother, buttery-er cream of chicken soup

The mussel meat itself feels like a simplified version of chicken hearts- structurally and in taste

Its not bad. You could hard sell it to a picky eater

Green onions would bring crispier top-notes much needed

And maybe building a roux base for the soup would fill out the low end?

I dont know what drinks would pair well with this. My heart wants to say red wine but im not a grape fan and cant get more specific than that

I think the hassle of procuring seafood is why when i ask my friends their opinions, the responses are middling to negative. You cant build a palate for it if you dont eat it enough. If i'd had fish stock i wouldve used that rather than chicken, while it doesnt turn the soup disgusting or make itself known much at all, awareness of its presence draws unfavorable comparisons to food I'd rather be eating. And eating for cheaper too (...besides the chicken hearts).

. Some mussels out of a bunch will inevitably be DOA, you wont be eating exactly a pound of them. This and waterweight are the nature of seafood. . Lay easy on the salt until the end before serving . If you have enough mussel stock left after straining, you might not need additional stock

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From deciding to cook to sitting and eating, the process took about an hour and a half. Not bad but not great, considering this dinner left me feeling full for all of about an hour after.

And the mussels were mostly usable/alive too! I discarded maybe 3 of the whole pound! Sure seafood can be light eating- youd think the dairy and vegetables would hulk it up more. The science of what makes food filling isnt entirely understood, as is most nutrition and gastro science, so i dont know what to blame. Stunning that 1lbs of mussels was not enough to keep a 110lbs person full for an hour.

If i were to make this again, i would serve it with fresh dinner rolls (or another carb). Breads and seafood are joined at the hip in my mind. You want more delicate tastes from your fish? I got just the thing. An entire family of food with varying flavors and textures that just so happen to all work pretty well with the third thing people eat often with seafood; butter.

I give this recipe a solid 4/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) It needs workshopping beyond being recognizable to the show.

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 lbs mussels, cleaned and de-bearded

Butter

3 shallots, finely diced

3 garlic cloves, crushed

2 bay leaf

Curry powder to taste

120g chicken stock

100g heavy cream

2 eggs

Method:

Wash your mussels. Remove any beards and barnacles. Discard any mussels with open shells.

Finely dice your shallots and garlic.

In a saucepan, brown your shallots and garlic in some butter over medium-low heat. Once softened add your stock, bay leaves, and curry powder to the saucepan. Increase the heat to medium.

Add your cleaned mussles to the saucepan, the liquid should cover them but if not add more stock. Bring to a boil, and then cover and reduce to a simmer.

Keep simmering until most/all of the mussel shells open. Discard any that still havent after about 6 minutes of simmering. Set aside the remaining mussels.

Pass the liquid in your saucepan through a strainer and return the liquid into the saucepan.

In a seperate bowl, combine the eggs and cream together. Carefully stir the egg/cream mixture into the saucepan until incorporated.

Remove the meat from the mussels, either discard or save some shells for garnishing.

Place the mussel meat on the bottom of serving bowls and pour the hot broth overtop, add your garnish (if any) and enjoy!

#dungeon meshi #food recipes #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #digital art

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endlessthxxghts · 9 months ago

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Solace

Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k

Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.

Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx

A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.

masterlist || notif blog

“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form.

“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes.

“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it.

“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”

Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand.

You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it.

“Din?” you called out softly.

He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down.

“Everything okay?”

“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.

“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.

You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you.

You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully.

“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth.

Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat.

“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine.

Oh, he’s starting to break, already?

The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily.

Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull.

“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face.

“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment.

Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper.

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you.

Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt.

The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless.

Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.

He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop.

By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in.

You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him.

He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly.

Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive.

He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch.

You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it.

“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs.

With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants.

His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots.

He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway.

“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice.

You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp.

Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing.

You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations.

You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly.

His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.”

“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight.

“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”

You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more.

You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.

“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter.

His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose.

Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay.

You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now.

You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine.

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.”

Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move.

“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.”

“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?”

“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter.

The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you.

With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish.

“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you.

“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer.

Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”

He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers.

“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”

He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him.

“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far.

Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all.

Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way.

As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces.

“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other.

“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space.

“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh.

He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself.

“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”

“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax.

Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves.

The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess.

He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck.

The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down.

“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt.

“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.

“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby.”

“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher.

In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself.

You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”

“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”

“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed.

“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”

Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."

Oh.

“Yes, ma’am.”

End notes:

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶

Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭

Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶

@pedrostories

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alanakod · 3 months ago

Text

I think Lucanis is a man of actions, not words.

Lucanis has the opportunity to take care of someone for the first time (or for the first time in a long time).

He will…

Protect your sleep, no matter how short it is.

Not just cook food for you and other companions - make sure your plate is full and you eat enough.

Check that your wounds are healing. That his treatment helps.

Know that your armor is intact and your sword is always ready for a battle. But the best armor for you is Lucanis himself.

Believe that the people you travel with won't let you down when he's not around. He'll explain them in private how to best watch your back.

Try to make sure that you don’t stain your clothes with the blood of enemies. Your hands. It is easier for him to live with the understanding that only his hands are unclean.

Wish silently that where your foot steppes the ground is firm. That the sky above your head is bright.

He can't say that.

The most he can say at the beginning of journey is:

"I’ll protect you".

Need to understand that the promise of protection from him is something that you will carry through entire life.

But Lucanis has no idea that his greatest feat is just…

To live for his friends. To be alive for you.

#lucanis dellamorte #lucanis #dragon age lucanis #lucanis x rook #rookanis #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #dragon age #da #dragon age 4

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elronds-meleth-nin · 4 months ago

Text

Ancient Script

This is for my dear friend @bigblissandlove1! Thank you so much for putting up with me screaming about this brainrot! I hope you enjoy this fic, my friend.

I'm not tagging anyone else in this, because the taglist I set up was for a whole other fic outside of RoP. If anyone wants to be tagged in future fics from The Hobbit, LotR, or RoP, please let me know! This is an AU fic in 2 regards: 1.) Soulmate AU 2.) it's set in the early Third Age - Adar is presumed dead by Sauron who has taken control of the Uruks, and he's biding his time in a small village while he concocts a plan.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Adar (RoP) x Reader

[A/N: This is fluff with a couple of mentions of violence, but nothing graphic.]

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Uruk/Human romance, kissing, soulmarks are your soulmate's name in their handwriting, he falls first, he kills a man to protect her but it's not graphic.

~*~

The shop selling arms and armor had been around in our village longer than I'd been alive, and certainly longer than the seven years I'd lived there. The shop owner, a rather private Ellon, wasn't exactly outgoing, at least, not to most people in the village.

But me...he would actively ask how I was when I passed each morning on my delivery route from the baker's shop. Perhaps it was because the scent of freshly baked bread was irresistible. Or maybe his lack of conversation with the others had made him lonely and desperate enough to try and interact with the one person who had never been rude to him.

The others seemed to find it acceptable to be less courteous just because he was different. I never did, though. My parents had taught me to be kind to all, even before we'd picked up and moved from the next village over for an opportunity for my father's business to grow.

So, every morning as I made deliveries up and down the main road, I eagerly looked forward to the moment when he'd open the door to his shop and allow me a brief conversation - that was more than most people got when they weren't discussing the particulars of a transaction with him.

This morning was only slightly different. Usually, I delivered to his end of the road first, but today I needed to make sure I ended there, instead. So, in reverse order, I made my way steadily toward his shop, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw his door open as usual when I was only a few steps away.

"There you are," he rasped as a small smile stretched his lips. "I had begun to wonder if you had forgotten me this morning."

"Oh, no! Never, sir," I said as I pulled his usual weekly order out of my basket, neatly wrapped in baker's cloth and tied with a little string. His fingertips brushed mine as he took it, and I let out a huff of nervous laughter. "Actually, I had a reason to save you for last, today. Assuming that your shop is already open, of course. If not, I can always come back later."

"For you, my door is always open, my lady," he said taking a step back and gesturing for me to come inside. I'd never actually been in his shop before.

"Thank you, sir," I murmured slipping in and trying to stay out of his way.

The scent of leather and metal, polish and grit permeated the air within the store, giving the whole place the feeling of an army at rest. Gleaming plate armor, razor-sharp swords, knives of nearly-infinite variety, and bows that looked lethal even at a glance were all neatly arranged on shelves and wall hooks.

I should've come here sooner.

"Now, what was so important that you felt you must rearrange your entire morning?" The Ellon asked as he laid the wrapped loaf of bread on the desk where he changed coin and made trades.

"Ah, 'tis twofold," I said as I opened my bag and pulled out my small, sheathed dagger. The shimmering blue stone laid into the hilt glinted as brightly in the morning light as it did the day my grandfather had given it to me. "The lower priority of the two would be my dagger. I lent it to one of my neighbors, and, well..."

Carefully unsheathing it, I showed him the now-split blade.

"If it is beyond repair, I certainly understand, but..." I shrugged, and he lifted the blade, inspecting its surface with his experienced eye.

"Not at all. This is easily fixed. I can have it for you by tomorrow morning," he murmured, laying it gently - almost reverently - on his desk and looking at me curiously. "And the second of your needs, my lady?"

Subconsciously, I ran my thumb over the cloth that covered my illegible soulmark. I knew whoever it was likely couldn't be entirely certain that I truly existed or, like me, could not read my name where it was inked upon their skin, but touching it even indirectly was still a comfort.

"I need to find a gift for my father. His birthday is in a fortnight, and I was wondering if, perhaps, I could examine your bows?"

He smiled at that.

"Certainly. Come with me." The Ellon led me to one of the large displays at the side, adjusting the sleeve of his tunic as he did so. When we reached the long line of curved and carved wood, I felt an answering touch through my soulmark - something so delicate that I could never be certain if I was just imagining things or if it was real. "If you already have a particular style in mind, then pay me no attention, but I must admit I am familiar with your father's current - let us say 'well-loved' - weapon. This, perhaps, might suit his needs and accommodate his firing style."

Lifting an intricately-carved bow from the rack, he strung it in one much-too-smooth movement that made my breath hitch. Clearly Elvish in design, that bow was finer than any that either my father or I owned.

"I know that you are an archer yourself, my lady. Come, feel the flex," he said moving around me and coaxing the carved grip into my hand. His chest pressed lightly against my back as I gave the string a pull mimicking aiming an arrow. His breath fanned lightly over my scalp, and when he spoke again, I fought not to blush. "You have excellent form. Anyone who opposed you would be doomed from the beginning."

His voice was low and gentle...intimate, in a way. I tried not to think about how luxuriant it would be to hear that soft, raspy voice murmur my name on a cold winter's night when we were curled up in front of a crackling fire.

A familiar shard of guilt wound through me. What would my soulmate, whoever they were, think of me fantasizing about someone else?

Slowly releasing the bowstring, I tried to tamp down my thoughts.

"This will be perfect." Thankfully, my voice betrayed none of my internal conflict, and I was gifted a small, pleased smile as he led me back to his desk. I'd never seen him smile at anyone else. Solemn yet polite, the Ellon before me seemed rather detached from everything in the village save his work, as if he was waiting for something...as if we were a mere respite from a path he must sooner or later traverse.

Fifty years was a long time to wait, but to him, I supposed, it must be a mere blink. Lives like those around him in the village must be barely worthy of his attention.

I'd be forgotten as quickly as wind whispered through the trees.

What must it be like to be significant enough to warrant even half that recognition in the eyes of one as long-lived as he? I heard my father and one of his business associates discussing the topic over mugs of ale one night in the tavern. Each believed he was several hundreds of years old. My father with all his knowledge of Elves had mused aloud after his friend left that he would not be surprised to find that our resident Ellon merchant had accrued over a thousand years of life.

"Scars like that," he'd said, "are the kind one gets in great wars. The last of which was a very long time ago, indeed."

I was inclined to agree, but where others saw a fearsome, intimidating being not to be approached unless necessity demanded it, I'd found a kindred spirit. He might not be outgoing and overly cheerful, but he was kind. His strength was beyond that of a mortal's, yet he could hold freshly-baked bread so gently that his fingers left no impression.

Even as he wrapped my father's new bow, including a few extra neatly-coiled bowstrings, I couldn't help but wonder how many people had judged him so harshly over the years? How many had feared him so severely that nobody even knew his name? It was true that I knew it not, but that came rather from a sense of embarrassment than fear. After all, what is a tactful way of asking a person's name after years of trying to be respectful without prying into his business? Admitting that nobody in the village knew it would only emphasize how different he was...how lonesome and separate he appeared compared to everyone else.

Oh, damn my fears! I was going to ask him, even if it took all my courage. He deserved to be called by his name as was respectful. For the moment, though, I drew my attention back to the present.

"What do I owe you, sir?" I asked as I reached in my satchel for my little drawstring bag of coins. I'd saved up for long weeks. A quality bow like the one he'd shown me could easily cost fifteen gold pieces. Taking on extra work and small tasks outside of the bakery, I'd managed to save seventeen gold pieces and a few silvers - enough for the bow and repairs for my dagger.

As he tied the wrapping with thick twine, he glanced up at me and, with an entirely straight face, muttered "three gold pieces."

I froze. That couldn't be correct!

"Forgive me, sir, I...I believe I misheard you–" I stammered, but he cut me off.

"No, indeed, my lady. You heard correctly." He looked as serene as the morning dew, green eyes giving away nothing.

"B-But, sir, if I paid such a low price, that would be tantamount to theft! I could not possibly abuse you so!"

He lifted an eyebrow at my assertion.

"Have you, or have you not been instructing the baker to take half of the price of my regular order of bread out of your wages for the last seven years, my lady?"

I blinked, and words failed me for a long beat.

"How did you...?" He gave me a knowing look even as my tongue trailed uselessly off into silence.

"Did you think I would not notice that the price I'd been paying for years was cut in half after a mere week of your employment?"

As a matter of fact, I'd hoped he would assume it was a mere coincidence.

"I have been, but–"

"Then, my lady, please allow me this small liberty," he said walking around his desk to stand before me. "You surely have paid for this bow several times over by now."

My cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze, but I persisted.

"I did not do so with the expectation of repayment–"

"Very well, then," he murmured, "two gold pieces."

My lips parted in surprise.

"Sir–" Silencing me with a raised hand, he smirked.

"The more you argue, the lower my price. I believe we are currently at one gold piece. Shall we descend into silvers?" Mischief danced in his eyes, but he was serious in his assertion.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked before I could think better of it.

"Because it pleases me," he said looking at me with a steady, constant expression. "Does one need a reason to be kind?"

I felt as though I'd been struck. I'd asked him the same question less than a month after beginning my job with the baker. He'd remembered! I'd thought it was a trivial sort of question at the time, but I suppose if he'd remembered it, I must've struck a chord within him.

"But I don't even know your name," I stammered in a last ditch effort to convince him I wasn't worth his losing so much money.

"Do you think I am unaware of that fact? I have not told it to anyone in decades. None here know it, yet you are the only one who cares that you do not know." He brushed an errant strand of hair behind my ear with the sort of delicacy that one would not expect a weapons merchant to possess. "You see me. That is why it pleases me to make this easier for you."

It took every ounce of self-control within me not to tilt my head and lean into his touch. His gaze dropped to my lips, and he licked his own - a barely-there flick of his tongue that I would've missed had I blinked but an instant earlier.

"If...you still wish to know my name when you retrieve your dagger in the morning, I shall tell it to you, my lady," he murmured even quieter than before.

"Surely you will allow me to pay the correct price for that, sir?" I asked, and a measure of mirth flickered across his expression as he lowered his hand.

"The correct price for you, my lady, would be absolutely nothing. In that regard, yes, I will be charging you the correct price," he stated in a tone that brooked no argument. "I look forward to seeing you come the morn. You may wish to take your father's gift home before he returns so that it might remain a secret."

Nodding silently, I laid three gold pieces on the desk and picked up the wrapped package. Thanking him, I made for the door, hoping that he would not notice the extra coins - surely he knew I couldn't allow him to undercharge me so severely? Before I'd made it more than two steps, however, one of his arms slid around my waist, stopping me in my tracks like a bar of steel.

"Not so fast, meleth," he breathed against the shell of my ear, and I heard the clinking of two coins as they dropped back into my bag. "A valiant attempt, I must admit. I shall see you on the morrow."

Throughout the long walk home, I could not rid myself of the sensation of his lips brushing against my ear nor his breath slightly stirring the hair upon my scalp. The ghostly memory of his arm catching my waist stayed with me until I fell asleep at nearly midnight.

Adar could remember the day her name appeared on his arm more clearly than almost any other - a feat for a being with many thousands of years under his belt. He'd been preparing to open his shop for the day when pain lanced across the inside of his forearm. His scars ached occasionally, but this pain was so sharp and different that he'd nearly dropped the newly-forged sword he was preparing to put on display.

Tugging his sleeve back, there it was: her name written in curling, shaky, yet careful font - the way her handwriting would look. He'd been so amazed that he had been given a soulmate after so long that he'd simply dropped onto a stool and stared at his arm for a time. Before her name appeared, he hadn't even been certain that his heavily scarred skin would allow him to see a name should one choose to appear, but now that he had his answer, he faced a new problem.

Should his soulmate have to face the burden of his existence when he was so twisted and broken? Morgoth's scars marred nearly every inch of his body, his face inspired fear in everyone he encountered, and he'd even failed his children. They'd fallen under Sauron's control again, and as they believed him dead, there was no chance they'd listen to him. They'd sooner believe he was a fraud than their father.

For several years, he'd covered the mark, barely daring to check if it was still there when he washed himself. Eventually though, as the years passed, he noticed that his soulmate would touch her own mark almost compulsively. Perhaps she was nervous and simply attempting to calm herself...

The first few times it happened, he ignored it, believing the gentle touch to be no more than a figment of his imagination, but after a while, he ached with the thought that she might believe that she was not wanted. He began following her caresses with a gentle one of his own. He hoped that it was enough that she would not give in to that fear.

Her existence was a miracle to him, even if she could not read his name. He knew she would be unable to, for the language to which he was accustomed had not been written in many thousands of years.

The day he first saw her, too, was vividly embedded in his mind.

A knock had sounded at the door to his shop. He'd ignored it the first time. The baker's delivery boy - unreliable as he was - typically knocked, leaving his wrapped bread upon the doorstep before scurrying away from his threshold as if it was diseased. Adar assumed that it was he who knocked that morning, so he went on as usual. After a few seconds, however, a second knock sounded, accompanied by a feminine voice.

"Delivery from the baker," came the call though the wooden door. Adar had been so surprised that he laid aside his work and opened the door without any further hesitation.

She was beautiful. The early morning sun illuminated her kind, smiling face in a manner befitting one of the Valar. Expecting her to flee upon her first glance at his face, the Uruk was stunned when her nervous smile widened a fraction.

"Good morning, sir," she chirped happily as she pulled his wrapped loaf of bread from her little basket. "I kept everything well-covered, so it should still be warm from the oven."

Accepting the bundle from her with a quiet, stunned rasp of 'thank you, my lady,' Adar couldn't help but watch as she gave a little curtsy and headed on toward the next shop. The cool, gentle breeze had teased her hair and skirt, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his softest blanket so that she would not feel the chill.

One as radiant and lovely as she did not deserve to live in anything less than the most luxurious sort of comfort. His heart had not stirred like that in...he could not remember the last time it had.

He'd heard someone call her name that afternoon - the same name that was etched indelibly on his forearm - and that had startled him more than anything ever had before. This warm ray of light was his soulmate? What had he done to deserve her? He, who was cracked and broken, scarred and burned...none could ever be worthy of her, most especially not him.

A servant of darkness, one marred and twisted by its shadows, should have nothing to do with such a being of light and joy.

Merely a week later, he'd placed his usual order with the baker, and he'd been asked for half of what he usually owed. At his own prodding confusion, the rotund little Man behind the counter had told him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye that someone thought kindly of him. It was not difficult to guess who it was. With all of her smiles and kind words, her unfailingly cheerful greetings whenever she saw him, Adar knew at once that it was her.

She tried to keep it secret, never once bringing up the topic, but he tried to repay her kindness with conversation. He'd been rusty, at first - he still was - but he didn't know how else to show her his gratitude.

Then, one day, he was afforded an opportunity to do so. Traders came through periodically, both seeking and offering wares. Most were well-behaved, exhausted people who wanted no more than to earn a living, but occasionally, there was an outlier among them. A trouble-maker.

One such passed through barely a year hence, and Adar had not liked the way his gaze lingered upon his lady as she made her morning rounds. He watched her too intently and for too long a duration for one with innocent thoughts in mind. No, the Uruk had seen too many over the years with such a glint in their dark, soulless eyes.

When she reached Adar's shop that morning, he'd glared at her evil shadow before gently grasping her hand and suggesting in a low voice that she keep her dagger handy until that particular caravan had left. She'd given him a reassuring smile and pulled the edge of her shawl back just far enough to show him the hilt where it was already strapped at her waist.

He'd never been so proud in all his life, but that didn't stop him from keeping a close eye on her for the rest of the day. None had noticed that his shop was closed with freshly-scattered alfirin seeds before it that afternoon, nor had the filth watching her seen that he was being followed by death's ruined right hand. The trader had followed her halfway back to her home and had begun to catch up with her when a flash of black and silver tugged him silently behind a tree.

The only sound that heralded the scum's death was a snap. She'd turned to look for what had made the noise, believing it to be a branch, and when she found nothing, she made her way safely home.

Her Uruk protector had disposed of the body beside a field where wild horses grazed, laying an empty bottle of spirits beside him. The next morning when the corpse was found, it was obvious to all that he'd gotten drunk, tried to ride one of the beasts, and had been thrown to his death. Adar guarded her door each night until the caravan left. The alfirin seeds had sprouted within mere days, and if any in the village had known their true meaning, the white blooms would have screamed his deed to the world.

But none were the wiser, and his lady was safe. That was all that mattered to him.

Fixing her dagger now was nothing less than a privilege. He'd told her it was easily repaired. In truth, it needed to be reforged. He'd shut his shop for the day and rolled up his sleeves to begin the work.

In the morning, after sharpening the blade's edge, he unlocked his shop door and awaited her arrival. He'd told her that she'd have his name today if she was still interested, but...he was tempted to give her more than that...to show her his mark. His self-indulgent moments when he showed her the bow and when he'd returned her coins had carved themselves upon his heart, stirring within him the desire to hold her again and never let go.

He'd been alone for so long that he now felt like a drowning man each time her eyes met his. She was so close, yet just out of reach. Could she see how much she meant to him? Could she tell that he would save, burn, or change the world entirely at her behest?

The door creaked inward, drawing him out of his thoughts. She was back. He stood straighter as she approached.

"Good morning, my lady." The tentative smile she gave him showed him all that he needed to know. It was time that he told her everything. If she rejected him, well...he'd come to expect pain. It would not surprise him, though, it would be worse than anything he'd yet experienced.

"Good morning," I murmured in return. My heart raced in my chest, and I hoped that my voice didn't sound as nervous as I felt. Smoothing my dress a bit further, I approached his desk. "I hope I haven't put you to any trouble."

"Not at all," he answered with a small smile as he lifted my dagger from his desk. "Come, let me show you what I have done."

I did as he asked, moving closer and paying entirely too much attention to the way his large hands dwarfed my little blade. He pulled it carefully from the sheath, showing me his handiwork. He'd polished it, too. The scent floated through the air in a familiar curl.

"Oh, it looks as good as new!" I exclaimed as he handed it carefully to me. The leather grip on the hilt had been replaced and even the balance had improved! "I cannot thank you enough, sir, truly."

"It was my honor, my lady," he said as I passed the blade back. He slid it neatly into its sheath. "Do be cautious. I gave it a quick pass over the whetstone this morning. 'Tis sharper than before."

"Are you sure you won't accept at least some sort of payment?" I asked, and he gave me a mock-stern look. I raised my hands in surrender. "My apologies."

"Gladly accepted."

After a long pause, I finally asked what I'd wanted to.

"May I still ask your name, sir? If your mind has changed, or if you simply do not wish to reveal it, I swear I will not press you on the matter."

He was quiet for a long enough moment that I nearly began pouring forth apologies.

"You are the only one I have wished to tell," he admitted. "You may call me Adar."

Adar. I knew that word from somewhere, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Thank you, Adar. I shan't tell a soul without your permission," I promised, and with an appreciative nod, he held out my sheathed dagger.

"Tell me," he rasped, not relinquishing his hold on my weapon quite yet, "why do you keep your forearm covered?"

I gave a nervous laugh, unable to maintain eye contact with him.

"I...My soulmark is there. I can't read it. Never have I encountered a language quite like it...whatever it might be."

He gave a small smile.

"I can read it." Adar's assertion snapped my gaze up to meet his once more.

"Sir?"

"If you would prefer that I not, that is entirely your prerogative, but I can almost guarantee you that I will be able to read it." When I hesitated, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Let me help you, my lady."

Quickly stowing my blade in my bag, I began to unwrap the fabric I kept tied over my arm. As I did so, the need to explain myself pulled a flood of words from me.

"I'm not ashamed of my soulmate, whoever they might be, but after a while, the looks I got when people glimpsed the writing...the pity, the confusion...the explanations became a bit tiresome. Besides, it is nobody's business save me and my soulmate," I murmured as the last bit of the cloth came free and fell away revealing the stark, black marks on my arm. Adar moved just a bit closer, a small smile stretching his lips as he caught my arm gently in his grasp. "Can...? Do you recognize it?"

For a moment, he was silent, only nodding his head in response, but that was enough to send my heart racing in my chest. That was more than anyone had told me about my mark in all my years.

"I have not seen this language written in an Age," he breathed, and after a long moment, his eyes met mine. "I am certain that if you knew the answer, you would regret inquiring about your soulmate's identity."

I couldn't hide my confusion.

"What do you mean? No matter who they are, if the marks are any indication, I can handle it. I have never known them to be wrong," I said, and he looked back down at my arm. "Please. You are the only hope I have of ever being able to read it."

His grip on my arm loosened somewhat, as if he was expecting me to tear myself from his grasp.

"I...have not used this name in thousands of years," he whispered tracing the first half of the dark runes, "but it was still mine. I prefer Adar, now, but...your mark seems to have taken that into account."

My lips parted in surprise, but I was frozen as he traced his fingertips lightly, carefully over the rest of the marks near my wrist.

"Just after that slight separation is the name you would now recognize as mine," he murmured, then he lifted my wrist and placed a kiss onto my mark, reverent and affectionate. The ancient writing tingled and sparked over and beneath my skin, sending a wave of pleasure through me.

He released my arm and tugged back his own sleeve, showing me my scrawled name on his scarred forearm. Carefully, afraid that he'd disappear, that this would turn out to have just been a dream, I touched him just as he'd done.

"For whole Ages, my arm was blank. There were others whose marks were slow to appear, but those whom I knew waited mere centuries. I was convinced that I was not destined for that fate," Adar admitted as I touched the first letter of my name. "I wondered...if I would even be able to read a name should it appear on my skin, or if it would appear as twisted as my scars."

As a tear slipped down my cheek, I kissed his arm as he'd done to mine. The slight gasp that escaped him was like ambrosia for my soul.

"I'm so sorry. You waited for so long, and all you got for your trouble was a mortal with terrible penmanship..." I trailed off with a sniffle, but he tilted my chin up with his free hand and shook his head.

"It is beautiful, because it is yours. It tethered me to you. This mark meant that I was no longer alone." His soft, rasping voice was filled with emotion. "Do not apologize for giving me hope when I'd dared not cling to it for such a long time. I should be begging your forgiveness, my lady. You do not deserve one as unworthy as I."

I shook my head in protest.

"Only I decide what I deserve. If anything, it is I who does not deserve you," I murmured. "You who have lived so many lives...having seen and experienced things I could scarcely imagine..."

I reached up slowly so that he could stop me if he wished, but he made no move to do so. My fingertips brushed his cheeks as lightly as was physically possible.

"I could want no other but you. I have felt guilt for so long. I could not read my mark, but I felt when my soulmate touched his. And yet, I knew that I had lost my heart to you the day we met." My confession felt like the sweetest relief. "If that name had belonged to any other, I would have been distraught."

Adar leaned into my touch, closing his eyes and drawing a slow breath. Twin tears escaped, dripping down his face in an asynchronous race.

"Now that I have you, I cannot give you back, meleth," he warned as he stepped closer and rested his forehead against mine.

"Then, keep me," I whispered, and his lips finally, finally met mine.

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #Adar x Reader

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velvet-paradox · 2 months ago

Text

Rewarded

Fandom: Call of Duty/ Fantasy AU Pairing: Knight!König x Princess!Female reader Summary: You've been living a double life to get close to the kingdom's blood Knight. Length: Long Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, L-bomb, friends to lovers, pining, magic, p in v, creampie, smut.

"Squire! Where the devils are you?"

You came running through the stables, your cloak, cardinal red flowed and swirled around your form. You nearly tripped over a bucket, dust and manure kicking up behind you. Maybe you would have reached your destination more swiftly had you not been carrying that book about.

"I say, squire!"

You stopped just short of your Knight, only bumping just slightly into his polished armor. You had done quite the job this morn! You could make out your own reflection in the metal breast plate or rather the reflection you had created.

"I am here sire. I made great haste through the halls but to no avail I am proven to be late once more." Your knight, the one you bet on every joust, a victor, a champion merely looked down at your presence. What König saw was a scrawny squire boy, moppy hair, holes along the thighs of your leggings, boots a size too big and shrouded by a far too portly cloak. The complete opposite of your true identify.

"You need to put that brain rot away, where it belongs. In the catacombs, in the libraries, down in the archives and not in the stables, boy!" König tsked you through his helmet, only enough room to see his gorgeous blue eyes sparkle behind them. One this occasion he had smeared some coal along his face, making the two orbs stand out like stars in the night sky.

You had often wondered what that would be like, oh how you enjoyed his company! To lay beneath the stars out in the mossy valley, just you and your knight, enjoying the silence. Counting stars, making out constellations. Sharing knowledge. Passing the time. He might even one day choose to hold your hand in the misty dark.

"But it not just some tome, sire! Theses are ancient texts, a forgotten language that I refuse to let drift along like wood in the river. Someone took the time to write all of this down, is it not in favor of knowledge to not let that die on deaf ears?"

"You think too much for such a squire. Come now, put that down and help me."

"But sire--"

"Oh no, boy! Not that 'knowledge before the blade' stuff again. Just do as you are told."

You did not wish to set the book down on some filthy hay, König's pride and joy of a black and grey speckled horse, Sapphire, had recently relieved herself on, you kicked over a half full buck and set it down.

"Aye 'ave you been in here long?" The captain, John Price announced with his booming voice into the stables. It never failed to make you jump, stepping on the armored foot of the Knight. He toked on a cigar from some other realm, it smelled sickly sweet it made your nose twitch.

"Yes sir, all evening, why?"

"The princess… she is feared missing. Again. The king of course has asked me to keep it quiet but I thought maybe she were out here with you." John gave you a sneering look as you kicked around some dirt.

"Nay. And why should the princess be out here with the likes of me, then?" König retorted.

He gave you a bump when he heard you curse in the presence of the captain.

You knew why he'd asked, König did as well. It is simply because--

"You two are well aquatinted. Everyone in the kingdom knows that! If she were not lusted after by suitors here or in the next realm, courted by Sebastian Kruger himself but you did not hear such from me, I would say she would on your arm, no?" Price chuckled out plumes of smoke.

"Hardly. We are merely friends. And no, I have not seen her grace."

"Very well. The scouts will be looking over the grounds, if you see her, let her know she is requested to the box."

While they chatted about the celebratory joust, being small and hidden, were able to slink away. An empty stable, no prying eyes, you revealed yourself in the corner. You whisked off the glamour magic that had made you König's squire boy. Rounding your bare shoulders, holes were daintily carved out in a wave like design that carried across your chest. Embroidery details of flowers and leaves sewn delicately through the sheer puffy sleeves.

With your head held high, you hurried out of said stable, outside of them truly, and feigned your innocence. You even hummed a little tune as you passed by, loud enough for if not one but both were to hear, to keep your secret hidden.

"Aye! My lady Y/N, where have you been?" Price barked and proceeded to bow as you made your way back to these men as if you were not just there moments ago.

"My dear captain, is it illegal for me to strut about my own kingdom? Since when?"

"That is not what I meant, I-I merely was concerned for your well being. Foreigners have been known to steal royalty at such large events. Held ransom or far worse, my dear."

"And you think the great König would have allowed that?" You scoffed, leaning an arm onto König's shoulder like a foothold. The gentle rattle of his armor was cool against your sheer sleeves. "I think not sir. I was just strolling about, enjoying the days warmth and as you can see, no harm fell on me."

"Very well," Price announced, hiding his cigar from your dress. "When you are finished here, Sebastian will be waiting for you in the box. Good luck König."

"Yes, König," you taunt, playfully of course. This double life thing was getting quite tiresome but this was the bed you made and you must lay in it. "Very good luck."

"Have you already placed your bets, my lady?" König asked, banter in his voice as well as he stroked Sapphire's tidy mane.

"First thing I did this morning!" actually the first thing you did this morning was use a bit of magic, not too much to be suspicious but enough to polish the armor the big man before donned. "You know I always bet on you."

"Ah! My biggest supporter, really."

"Ha! All of the kingdom adore you König, and you know it." You clasped your hands in front of you, testing him to see if he'd cave and look down at your cleavage. "Where is your squire? he has left his book."

"That old thing, I should just let Sapphire piss all over it. More harm than good that thing. He most likely tore out of here in a frenzy, terrified of Price."

"König! You take that back at once, if the boy has a hobby, let him have it. Lord know he needs something to deal with the likes of you all damn day!"

"I mean this in the nicest of ways dear princess, but kindly, piss off." You snorted when he tripped against the stool, bending over and righting it for him so he could properly mount Sapphire. This time you did in fact catch him peeking. Blue eyes on yours quickly thereafter.

"As you wish sir," you curtsied and just before you swayed away from the stables, you grabbed up the book. "For safe keeping of course."

"Of course, princess."

….

"Whose he up against again?" Sebastian asked next to you, over the roar of the crowd. His breath already reeking of wine.

"Keegan. USMC's finest knight. Did you not see the bulletin when you arrived two days prior?"

"Guess I was too concerned about getting between my princesses legs." You whacked him arm, your father was nearby and heaven forbid he find out you are sleeping with the potential enemy, or that you were no longer pure. Might send him into an early grave.

The truth was you hadn't slept with the man beside you, flirted with the idea, but then he would say something most fowl and you couldn't help but pray your father might put you out of your misery and have the man exiled from the kingdom.

"Watch your tongue, Sebastian. You do know I can order it cut from your face, correct?"

"Would you continue to use it?"

"You are a sick man, Kruger. Ugh."

Everyone was finally settling down for the joust, your countrymen across from you shouting jeers and the dislike for your Knight, vice versa. It was all fun and games until someone had a little too much, lost in their cups, sheets to the wind and made the wrong choice. They'd end up sleeping it off that next day in the stocks if not worse depending.

All that mattered was the book safely hidden under your seat and that König would turn to be the victor, to receive a kiss upon his helm.

Sapphire soon set the scene, prancing out on the left side of the course, shaking her mane, swishing her tail, stomping her hooves into the sand. König held up his arm, his decorated lance, to the cheering crowd. As he did his first lap around, he had Sapphire stop in front of your box and curtsey, König even tipped an imaginary hat to you.

Keegan did the same, one lap and a show of grace and gratitude.

"Who do you suppose--"

"König never fails me."

It was true. Almost as if by some divine luck did König always win once you began betting on the man. You'd watch from your fathers' box until you were old enough to get your own, years now, close in proximity of course, had to remind you not to shout too loudly, that it wasn't very ladylike. You spat at that remark. A lady can choose whatever she does. The tantrums you would throw about hearing conversations of betrothment, sent off or given to some ugly prince or old king. Blegh. The thought of being touched made your blood boil, it was bad enough Sebastian thought you might lay with.

Bundling or bare. Yuck.

One might think, by your words, that you had used your magic to keep the score, keep him on the winning list of things but this was all König. You were told he was special. The faeries told you so one evening in the veranda, making their little mushroom circle so they could live lavishly, dancing about like fire flies.

"You know of König? the blood Knight, yes?"

"Of course."

"He is very special, not only to you but to all the realm, all who look upon him. See that he is looked after. Cared for, loved and he shall return it ten fold!"

"I am not going to use a spell or curse him."

"No no, princess. Not like that. How would you nurse a kitten back to health? with time and care, patience. Preside over him as much as you can and you will be grateful and rewarded."

Their high pitch whispers in your ear tingled the hairs on your arms and neck. The little fae never left your garden, had been there before you were even thought of all those years ago, let alone how would they know about König?

And he did not fail yet again this night. The clashing of lance to chest plate, the crowd, the roar and grunts of pounding steeds and hooves in sand. The excitement, the adrenaline of watching two brutes joust and beat each other back and forth for all its' worth. All the praise, to be champion. All the spoils to the victor. Keegan was a dear friend and ally, all was not lost after the battle. Armor a bit dented, but nothing too serious. No wooden pieces had been lodged anywhere tender.

König trotted Sapphire towards your box and you made your way down the little steps, leaning over the balcony and looked straight into his eyes. They were on fire. He radiated heat and exhaustion.

You put your hands on his pauldrons and leaned in close.

"You fought valiantly, you are rewarded kindly." You kissed both sides of his helmet, lingering a bit on the second one as you could smell his aroma, distinctly König with added sweat of course. Bergamot, red currants, burning wood, hay; divine. "My blood Knight."

Sapphire even allowed a little snout pat before trotting off.

….

"Should I be worrisome, child?" Your father asks of you, as you lay in bed lipping through the pages of the book. He does not care much for your reading habits, most unbecoming of a young lady even though you are closer an age to König than most of the gentry women you surround yourself with. They are of the season, supple and willing to marry old wealth, put up with splotched hands on smooth skin, made some slave woman of her own name in a locked away tower somewhere. You've heard the horrors, seen the terrors. It is not pretty.

"Of what now, father?" You ask without even looking up.

"Of your friendship with the blood Knight," your father paced the length of you room, settling himself out on to the balcony, hands drawn and clasped behind his back. With a sigh you will your legs to move, to bookmark the page and get up. "Are you two… meaning to be more than friends?"

"Father please. König and I are truthfully platonic," you pat his shoulder with a genuine smile, even though behind your eyes and heart you wished nothing more than to be his beloved. "He cares for winning jousts as much as I. A true KorTac champion, yes? A real Knight."

"I suppose your are quite right, I just… I get the feeling there is something there and I do not know if I wish it to be true, someone to look after you once I am gone, well taken care of, loved. I do know you spend some time with Sabastian, supervised of course, to each their own child, I just do not care for his arrogance and stature."

"His stature?"

"He boasts himself too much, puts on airs. Is most embarrassing I must say."

"Agreed! Truth is father, if I were to be presented to someone for marriage I would gladly take König's hand any day."

"As friends?"

"As friends."

….

That was a lie but you did not wish to rush your father off to an early grave, if he knew your true intentions with your Knight. You would spend hours, disguised as his squire boy, listening to him rant and retell you stories of his valor, fighting off ogres at the outer wall of your kingdom. How he'd gained the trust of the elves, the way they taught him a few choice words over roast fowl and freshly caught fish. How the fire breathers danced in the moonlight, when he saved the life of several children from a dragon. He had the scales of the fallen beast sewn into his chainmail for added protection.

Not only did you want to watch the stars with König, some nights you would cast out magical hearts along your ceiling as you wished he would make you see them. Oh to be underneath him, you thought with a sigh, to see his face for the first time, to touch him, to kiss him. Maybe a true loves kiss if the faeries were correct.

"Preside over him as much as you can and you will be grateful and rewarded."

The ballroom is filled with jovial voices, sober until the actual dance begins. Sheathed swords line the walls, of all sizes, your kingdoms banners flow and move against the high ceilings. Other knights stop by your throne and bow their heads before moving on to get a drink, or something to nibble on. Which is what you are doing, quietly of course, cant be seen as royalty with spinach in your teeth now can you?

"Your grace, will you be joining me along the dance floor this evening?" Kruger suddenly popped up, he always does that, he' so slinky. Quiet as the field mice you used to catch when you were small.

"Must I?"

"I would appreciate one dance before I go to the wall, pray tell who knows how long I shall be without your beauty this time."

Forever, you grumbled to yourself and covered your mouth with a fake smile. "One dance."

"One time is all I need, princess."

Gowns of gold and greens, blue patterns woven into the busts, everyone was buzzing about, König's repeat victory, who was going to be wed at the beginning of the season, bets on who would be in the stocks come next morning.

A round of applause erupted and you need not guess who its' praise was for. He towered over everyone here he might as well be an elf. He waved and bowed to everyone, Keegan following suit, getting his own set of admirers. Some flouncy women would be joining him this evening no doubt to soothe his loss.

"Do you think you could handle that much attention, my dear? All eyes would be on you as well if you were to wed the blood knight."

Your father said next to you, a goblet in hand as he watched you watch König do his tour about the ballroom.

"I don't mind. I am not jealous, father. He can do as he pleases, go where he is needed most, helpful as long as he comes home to me in one piece."

"Well… Kruger will be displeased to hear it."

"Pfft, I do not care what the likes of Sebastian Kruger have to say. He is most, annoying is to put it lightly."

"Agreed."

The music is as light as the conversations as you dance a round with Sebastian, he's easy to move with. You've danced with him before, when you caught his eye apparently. He'd been trying to get your attention, bringing you blood stained trinkets in exchange for your affections. You weren't buying it and when he wasn't looking you'd toss them into some bushes with a roll of your eyes.

He suggested another dance when the orchestra faded out into a newer song and thankfully you didn't have to turn him down as you two bumped into König.

"Afraid not friend, this one is for me."

Kruger slunk away, giving you a bow as it would be highly inappropriate to argue with the winner of the nights' champion. It didn't help how König had said for me. You would ride that high for weeks, surely.

"You did save a dance for me didn't you, princess?"

He'd cleaned up, lighter gear of course, different helmet too. He'd even scrubbed off the coal, though his eyes were still just as bright and clear. He bowed.

"Several in fact, my knight." You also bowed and got into position, holding onto his armored body, you began to move about the room. "Have you already danced with some fellow maidens? Am I slim pickings?"

"Ha! I did not know you were suddenly a jester, my lady!" König chuckled behind his helmet, fingers intertwined with your own as he turned to spin you out only to bring you back in with your back to his chest. "Maybe you should start wearing one of those hats as well."

"Oh please, König. I know you are what the youths call a lady killer."

"I shall have you know, your grace, I have never killed a woman in my life!"

"Not seriously, you oaf."

He shook his head at you as you continued to dance, another song melted into the next and you thought he would bid you good night but instead insisted, begged for another dance. Who were you to object to his request? Plus he was warm and playful and you didn't have to pretend, using magic to be this close to him.

"You did not answer my query?" You pulled your body closer, leaning up against his armor, a blur of your reflection caught in the chest plate.

"Nein my lady, I do believe I only have enough energy to keep up with thee."

"You mean your name will not be attached to any maiden but myself?"

"That is correct. Should I use force and bring out my dagger, make it a point to the kingdom that I dare court the princess after a joust? Say the words and I shall." He joked and spun you, making you dip your head back.

"Oh König, you know I am a firm believer of knowledge before the blade."

He stilled for a moment, looking at you with earnest blue eyes. You were about to inquire what was suddenly the matter when it dawned on you what you had just exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon…. I did in fact not know that about you."

You flustered and shrugged as the other dancers proceeded to swell and dance around your still forms. "I uh, it is a common phrasing, is it not? One should be skilled in both, I am sure your squire would not mind giving you a tour in the archives. Should you pull out your blade you may as well bring out your quill as well." You tried to cover your tracks, it seemed to work as he was swaying a bit, getting into the groove of the dance once more.

"I suppose so. I have only heard my squire say such is all. And what shall I learn down there, hmm?"

"Perhaps the art of properly courting."

"Ouch! Oh how you wound me, a dagger to my side. That means I shall have to try harder to impress you then, princess. And I will."

….

You had been down in the libraries all evening, getting permission from König to do some light reading which of course meant you were pouring over that big book. The choice words, the incantations and spells were incredible. Written in a form you had you use your own magic to decipher, it took a few tries to figure out the meanings. Why were they written in the first place? If you know the casts, why keep them locked and in this two clasp book? If you are born of magic, like yourself, you would already have the knowledge, already gifted just needed to harness and control it.

You bit into your thumb while you deciphered the words in the air above you, kicked back, rocking dangerously on the back two legs of your chair.

Just then the doors burst open loudly, others studying shooshed the intruder and you could hear the clank of armored boots. Hurriedly you put the words back into the book just in case.

"Squire! There you are."

"Well yes sire, you told me I could study today."

"I think I have made a grave mistake."

"What have you done?" You asked and brought the chair back to its' original position.

He clanked and pulled out another chair, seating himself next to you, his helmet is in hands. "How old are you lad? Maybe fifteen?"

"I am all of sixteen, sire." Which is a complete farce as you are about double that, give or take a few months. "Why?"

"I figured. You have not yet begun courting young maidens. Do not follow my example as I made an absolute baffoon of myself last night at the ball. I did not mean to admit hidden feelings but I did so freely! How can I court her? What if she thinks I jest too much, I know how much she humors me with her wit but for the sake of my name and title, what shall I do?"

You looked confused. "Who did you make a mockery in front of? I did not see any such act. Was this behind closed doors?" Saliva had pooled in your mouth, had he admitted his admiration to some other beauty after your dances last night? Had you been actual slim pickings? Was he trying his best not to crush your feelings?

"You were there last night? Well my eyes were elsewhere I suppose. The princess, what must she think of me now? I dare not show my face to her. Well, you know what I mean, boy. I was in such a jovial mood I let my feelings out of their cage and for what? She is probably laughing about it with her friends. If word gets out--"

"What did you say to her, sire that would leave you in such a state?"

"I told her in not so many words that I plan on courting her! Impressing her! Showing off as if I have not been in love with her for years, how foolish of me, squire. What was I thinking? Jousting I can do with my eyes closed, protect the kingdom, no problem. Man the wall with the other Knights, tell me when and where. Battle, I have been to plenty and fought valiantly to see another day, clearly. But love, squire? I am but a pest." He clunked his helmet down on the long table.

You winced as you bit your tongue, watching your blood Knight pound his fist as if he were just a boy the age you were glamourized as. Not the recognized Knight all of Kortac and the surrounding realms and kingdoms knew of. He was in love with you? How dreadful it must've been to watch Kruger try to impress you, expressing himself with gestures.

"Sire, maybe this is not the best place to have this conversation," you shakily say, looking about the other knowledge seekers who were giving you two a dirty look. "Maybe your chambers?"

With a huff he lifted his heavy head and looked at you. "I suppose you are right, boy."

You felt incredibly small here, alone, with your Knight. His room was massive, tools of the trade, several sets of armor on display. Swords, some chipped from battle hung up above his bed in display, he did have a book or two set aside but their slipcovers looked a tad dusty. His bed was large and draped with several blankets, fluffed pillows too.

He sat at his desk, taking off his gloves and tapped where his mouth would be. "What should I do squire? What young man knowledge can you share with me if any?"

"I'm afraid I am not the right one to ask, um would you mind closing your eyes for a moment?" You held your hands behind your back, rocking on the balls of your feet.

"No funny business, or I'll take off your nose."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Just humor me a moment."

"Fine fine."

König sighed and shut his visor, you rubbed your hands together as you normal did to conjure up some magic. You took your time to reveal yourself, from the prickling, silly feeling at the crown of your skull to the ends of your feet, shimmering and fading away like balls of sand. Long gone was the boyish façade of leggings and a tattered cloak, replaced by your clean skin and dress.

"They don't have knowledge to share, but I do." Your voice came through and instantly König snapped his visor open and stood. "What are you doing here, my lady? Where is my squire? He was just here… are you in league with him?" König looked around his room, moving about, looking behind curtains, opening cupboards and closets, even the trunk at the end of his bed. Beneath it. Looking for a ghost with no name.

"I've been lying to you, König. It was the only way."

"The only way for what?" He said peeling back the curtains from his window again just to be certain.

Words bloomed and died on your tongue several times over before you finally came up with, "It was the only way I could get close to you unsupervised. No lady in waiting, no escort."

"What sort of trickery is this? Where is my squire, princess? He's here somewhere."

"I am your squire!"

"Prove yourself." He said and paused, waiting, standing still.

With a wave of your hand you transformed into his young apprentice, shock in his eyes. "See. I have been using glamour magic to conceal the truth, the faeries told me you are special and that I should look over you. I would be rewarded if I did and all that was was just an excuse to further our relationship."

"Why? Why go through the trouble?" He asked after being very visibly shocked that you were two in the same, one person, same thoughts, same actions. He came around the bed and looked down at you fumbling with your jewelry, twisting your rings, messing with your necklace. "I am just a Knight."

"Nein. You are not just some Knight König, you are my Knight and I am over the moon in love with you." You answered with a shrug when you changed back. "There was nothing to stop me."

"You love me?" König's voice wavered, on the very knifes edge of sounding accusatory. "Truly?"

"Incredibly so."

He inhaled deeply and walked past you, leaving you to look out one of his windows, you padded your way over to the high glass pane. KorTac was bustling, moving like ants in their hills and nests. Tears welled in your eyes when you did not hear him any further, left to sulk in your own dismay.

You had lied to him, pretended to be someone else entirely. Tempted to use magic, to quell your sorrow, maybe conjure up a storm so everyone know how pained you were in this moment. You may have lost him for good. You knew how filthy he thought liars were. Even if you did care for the Knight, your actions spoke volumes. Tomes the size of that book you so cleaved.

The door to his chamber creaked open, you couldn't hear his armor but instead came heavy footfalls followed by the locking of the door. "Do you mean it? The care you have for me? It is true?" His voice sounded different.

"Of course I mean it." You wiped at your eyes, tears had clumped your lashes together as you watch two little girls skip through the market below.

His footsteps pounded the floor, his hands rested on your shoulders and for the briefest of seconds, you caught his face in the glass of the window. You gasped.

"What are you doing?"

"If what you say is honest and true, turn around and face me."

You did, turning around you rocked on your feet seeing his bare face. The shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips and the bridge of his nose. All is revealed. He even smiled a little.

"You are handsome, no wonder you cover your face. Everyone would either wish to be you or to have sex with you!"

König snorted into a laugh. "Well thank you my lady, I have been called many things but handsome is not one of them." He smiled again, wider this time. "I can't believe I didn't realize it was you all this time, you kept your eyes and nose the same."

"I'm glad you didn't, I would be in quite some trouble."

"Certainly," König hummed and touched your face with the back of his hand, he'd never touched you like this before. He thumbs over your bottom lip and chin, tilting up your grinning face. "You are a very naughty girl. You have witnessed me shirtless on quite a few occasions over these last several months. Unchaperoned. How scandalous! And to think every time you went missing you were really with me."

"I was not complaining."

"Nein nein, my squire would do no such thing."

….

The first round of kisses were light and sweet, a hint of some sort of berry slipped into your mouth when he licked inside. His hands in your hair, cupping your face, holding your neck, ghosting over your collar as he wrapped you up in his arms.

It didn't feel strange or out of place when you pulled at the strings of your gown, letting it loosen around your shoulders before letting the garment pool around your feet. You stepped out of your flats, climbing on to his lap. The way his shift moved against your bare skin sent shivers up your back.

His large hands, used to battle and action, calloused and laced with past encounters felt warm against your back as he rocked you, laying back when you pushed at his chest.

"Are you in control, princess? Shall I give up all resolve?"

You only smirked and laid across him, brushing some stray strands of his hair behind his ear. "If you love me you will you let me."

"I would let you do unholy things to me." König admitted, tucking his hands behind his head as you moved down his form, lifting his shirt and mouthing over the skin you found in your wake. A large bruised on his ribs were nursed by your lips, kissing over the tapestry of scars that made him. He took it off soon after, helping you take off his trousers as well.

You stilled your hand above his groin, feeling the heat radiate off his conditioned body.

"Do I have your allowance?"

"You have every permission, princess."

You were overly full when you rose to fit him inside your cunt, already as mess of arousal. The noise he made when you sat, taking all of his length at your speed was incredible. You desperately needed to hear it, more of it. Apparently for König as well as he let out more sighs and moans of pleasure, grabbing your rocking hips and rolled you over with a hrmph.

He hissed through his teeth, "I can't take much more of that pace I'm afraid, my lady."

"Eager to fill me are you Knight?" You giggled, feeling him twitch inside you, he bent down and framed your head with his hands, pining your wrists to the bed.

"All night if you let me."

"Like you said," you leaned up and kisses him hard, flexing your hands. "I would let you do unholy acts to me."

That motivation is what got you pinned and fucked more than once that night. His thick cock slipping through your folds as if you were made for each other, he fit so snuggly. Your pussy trapped him, the praises he sang in your honor. How you sobbed his name when he thrusted into you, moving his hips as if he were riding Sapphire. The reverb of the meat of your ass when he finally rolled you over for a second round, bouncing and reveling in the way König's voice sounded almost watery against your ear.

I love you's in between sloppy kisses, the sharp pinch of teeth on flesh. You couldn't get enough. Yes your Knight was inside you, both of you moving as one, connected. Attached. The look in his eyes when he'd pull his cock out slowly only to push it back into your spongy, wet walls. You moved up the bed, the wood of the headboard bouncing gently with his thrusts.

"You are a naughty princess, haven't even properly courted you yet and here you are, balls fucking deep."

"Keep it up my love, you will cum for me once more."

"Can't believe you feel this fucking good. All our b-banter, our back and forth for this to turn into true love. I love you princess."

König held your throat while you rode him, moaning his name, scratching your nails down his arms. You leaned down, burrowing your face into this side of his sweaty neck, on instinct you licked some of it, delighted by König's groan and grab to your hip, you bit down, sucking on him.

You came again, holding on to him tight, the feeling of him bucking up into you, matching push and pull with a chase to climax together once more. You were already sticky, already filled up three times, as round after round had you two on the edge.

"One more princess, one more time for your Knight." König purred after digging his free hand into your hair, keeping you at his neck.

"I don't think I can! I am empty." You whined but kept fucking him.

"Nonsense princess, you are simply filled with me. Load after load you have taken. I am addicted to this pleasure you have wrought out of me."

It was then that you straightened up, leaning back enough to rub at your bundle of nerves, swollen still, dripping wet with hidden activities. König enjoyed the look of what you were doing to yourself, holding onto one of your breasts as you rubbed yourself faster, König could not take his eyes away.

"König please…. bitte I can't… I can't last… I'm--"

"I know it I know it, my love. I can feel you shaking, let it out for me bitte. Then we rest."

You felt it building up, your heart pounding in your chest, exhausted and incredibly satisfied. You could even hear how wet you were, how messy your pussy could sound. Messy with his cum and your arousal, thinking of yourself roaming your kingdom with his seed dripping down your unseen legs got you there. You toppled over, a fresh release of wetness and you were done for.

"One. Last. Time."

Slain by your own hand.

"Bless you princess, I knew you could do it." König groaned, finishing inside you for the fourth time, you were sure he was the empty one now. The morning light shone through his windows as you both laid there, holding hands and catching your breaths.

You laughed into his shoulder, sore but in the best and earned way possible. He kissed your forehead and tucked into your side. You were glad that you had listened to the fae, because you were clearly grateful and rewarded.

Tagging: @powerfultenderness @nepomami

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