#golden fields with berries

[theangrycomet-art]

Doodles of @lune-redd's other adorable Fankiddos, from left to right, Britt, Beauty, and Berry.

Check out their work, seriously. They have such nice designs and they capture the Powerpuff girl art style past the "Puff".

[pandalandalopalis]

i have not rewatched kingsman: the golden circle since i saw it once when it came out in theatres, and i am only rewatching it now because of the pedro pascal renaissance. 

i will be clear that i will never forgive this movie for killing off roxy in the first half an hour without giving her even five minutes of screen time when she was the only female kingsman.

[satellite-evans]

Look at the stars

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Benedict and his Y/N spend a joyful day picnicking and stargazing with their children <3

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: tooth aching fluff

A/N:

This was a request from @pear-1206 , I hope I did your request justice, love xx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The sun was warm and golden, casting a gentle glow over the lush countryside. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the sound of birds chirping merrily. It was the perfect day for a picnic, and Benedict Bridgerton couldn't have been happier to spend it with his wife and children.

Benedict and Y/N had always shared a mutual disdain for the relentless scrutiny of society. From the moment they met, they found solace in each other's company, both preferring the quiet beauty of nature and the simplicity of family life over the pomp and circumstance of high society. Benedict was hopelessly devoted to Y/N, captivated by her spirit and the way she saw the world. She had a way of grounding him, reminding him of what truly mattered.

Today, they had chosen a secluded spot in the picturesque countryside of Kent, a place far enough from their estate to ensure complete privacy. Nestled under the shade of an ancient oak tree, the spot offered a breathtaking view of rolling hills and a gently flowing brook nearby. The grassy field stretched out before them, a sea of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Their children, a boisterous five-year-old boy named Thomas and a giggling two-year-old girl named Violet, were already darting about, chasing butterflies and exploring the wonders of nature.

"Thomas, be careful!" Y/N called out, laughing as their son sprinted after a particularly fast butterfly, his little legs pumping furiously. He stumbled over a small mound of earth but quickly picked himself up, his laughter ringing out across the field. He waved back at his parents with a wide grin, dirt smudging his cheeks.

She turned to Benedict, her eyes sparkling with joy and a hint of motherly concern. "He's going to wear himself out before we've even unpacked the basket."

Benedict smiled, his heart swelling with love as he watched his family. "Let him. It's good for him to have space to run and play." He set down the picnic basket and spread out the blanket, patting the spot next to him. "Come, love. Sit with me."

Y/N joined him, resting her head on his shoulder as they unpacked the basket together. They had prepared all of their favorite foods: fresh sandwiches with a variety of fillings, ripe strawberries, an assortment of cheeses and crackers, a freshly baked loaf of bread, and, of course, a bottle of fine wine. Benedict carefully laid out each item, ensuring everything was in easy reach for their little picnic.

"I can't believe you managed to pack all of our favorites," Y/N said, smiling as she unwrapped a loaf of bread still warm from the oven. "It's like you read my mind."

Benedict chuckled, leaning in to kiss her temple. "I had a little help from our cook, but I wanted today to be perfect for you and the children."

Violet toddled over, her tiny hands reaching for a strawberry, and Benedict handed one to her, laughing as she eagerly bit into it, the juice dribbling down her chin. "Delicious, isn't it, my sweet?" he asked, wiping her chin with a napkin.

Violet nodded, her eyes wide with delight. "More, Papa!" she demanded, holding out her hand for another strawberry.

Benedict obliged, giving her another juicy berry. "Here you go, darling. Enjoy."

Thomas ran back to the blanket, breathless from his adventures. "Mama, Papa, look!" He opened his little fist to reveal a handful of wildflowers. "I picked these for you, Mama."

Y/N's eyes softened as she took the flowers from Thomas. "They're beautiful, Thomas. Thank you." She arranged them into a small bouquet and placed them in a little jar they had brought along. "They add the perfect touch to our picnic."

Thomas grinned, proud of his contribution. "Can we eat now, Papa? I'm starving!"

Benedict laughed, ruffling Thomas's hair. "Of course, my boy. Let's see what we have here." He handed Thomas a sandwich, watching as his son eagerly took a bite.

Y/N began to serve the cheese and crackers, arranging them on a plate. "This cheese is from that little shop in town, isn't it?" she asked, recognizing the distinct aroma.

"Indeed it is," Benedict replied. "I know how much you like it."

She smiled warmly at him. "You always remember the little things."

As they ate, they talked and laughed, sharing stories and memories. Y/N recounted a humorous incident from their last family outing, making Benedict chuckle. "I still can't believe you managed to get us lost in our own backyard," she teased.

Benedict shook his head, a mock expression of horror on his face. "I maintain that it was all part of the adventure."

Thomas piped up, his mouth full of sandwich. "Papa, are we going to play tag later? I want to show you how fast I can run!"

Benedict nodded, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Absolutely. But be warned, Thomas, I’ve been practicing my tag skills. You might not be able to catch me."

Thomas giggled, clearly relishing the challenge. "We'll see about that!"

Violet, not wanting to be left out, clapped her hands and babbled excitedly. "Tag! Tag!"

Y/N laughed, her heart full. "Looks like you have two little competitors, Benedict."

After they finished eating, they played a spirited game of tag. Benedict and Y/N took turns chasing the children, their laughter echoing across the field. Thomas was a blur of motion, his little legs pumping as he dodged and weaved, while Violet toddled around, giggling whenever someone pretended to catch her.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape, they gathered up their things and made their way back home. After a quick supper and baths for the children, they all headed outside again, this time with a blanket and pillows to lie on as they stargazed.

Benedict carried a sleepy Violet in one arm and a basket with their essentials in the other. "Do you think the stars are brighter tonight, or is it just me?" he mused aloud, looking up at the clear night sky.

Y/N smiled, holding Thomas's hand as he skipped alongside her. "Maybe they're shining just for us," she replied, her voice filled with contentment.

The night sky was clear, a tapestry of stars twinkling above them. They spread out the blanket on the grassy hill behind their home, arranging the pillows for comfort. Thomas immediately lay down, pointing up at the sky with excitement.

"Look, Papa! I see the Big Dipper!" he exclaimed, his small finger tracing the constellation.

Benedict chuckled, lying down next to him. "That's right, Thomas. And do you see that bright star over there? That's the North Star. Sailors used to navigate by it."

Thomas's eyes widened with fascination. "Did they use wishing stones too, Papa?"

Y/N laughed, settling Violet in her lap. "I think they relied more on maps and compasses, love. But a wishing stone could come in handy in a pinch."

Violet, still clutching her pebble, looked up at the sky with wide eyes. "Stars! Pretty!"

Benedict pointed out another constellation, his voice a soothing rumble in the stillness of the night. "There's Orion," he said, tracing the shape with his finger. "And over there is the Great Bear."

Thomas stared up in wonder, his small hand clutching the wishing stone. "Can I make my wish now, Papa?"

Benedict nodded, his eyes meeting Y/N's. "Go ahead, son."

Thomas closed his eyes, whispering his wish softly. When he finished, he placed the stone on his chest and sighed contentedly. "Your turn, Mama."

Y/N closed her eyes, holding Benedict's hand as she made her wish. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, her heart full. "Your turn, my love."

Benedict took the stone, closing his eyes. He didn't need to wish for anything; everything he had ever wanted was right here with him. But for the sake of tradition, he made a wish anyway: for endless days like this, filled with love and laughter.

Thomas squirmed, curious. "What did you wish for, Papa?"

Benedict grinned, ruffling his son's hair. "If I told you, it wouldn't come true, would it?"

Thomas pouted playfully. "That's not fair! I bet you wished for more wishing stones."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Knowing your father, he probably wished for more of your mama's cooking."

Violet clapped her hands, clearly enjoying the banter. "Wish! Wish!"

Benedict leaned over to Y/N, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I actually wished for moments like this to last forever."

She rested her head on his shoulder, her voice soft. "I love you, Benedict Bridgerton."

He kissed her forehead, his heart overflowing with happiness. "And I love you, Y/N Bridgerton. Always."

Thomas, ever the inquisitive one, looked between his parents. "Does that mean you wished for more picnics and stargazing, Papa?"

Benedict chuckled. "Something like that, Thomas. I wished for more time with my favorite people."

Thomas grinned, satisfied with that answer. "I like that wish."

Under the vast, starlit sky, surrounded by the warmth of their family, they knew they had everything they could ever need. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day, and as they drifted off to sleep, they dreamed of many more days just like this. The gentle sounds of the night filled the air, and the stars above seemed to shine a little brighter, as if in agreement with Benedict's silent wish.

[eupheme]

k05. sex pollen | choking on flowers

sdv!harvey x f!farmer

rated e - 3.2k

tags: dub-con (due to pollen), multiple pov, mutual pining, self-deprecating thoughts, masturbation, guilt, enthusiastic/rough sex, aphrodisiacs, creampie

“I feel… warm. Hot. It… it hurts,” You manage, your other hand drifting across your abdomen, “I feel empty, Harvey.”

Something inside him growls at the sound of his name. He wants to hear it again, wants to see how it sounds when you mewl it out, pleasure-drunk.

(Or - thanks to some flower seeds you found in the mines, Harvey's first trip to your farm doesn't quite go as planned.)

It's taken two months and twenty-seven days of flirting, subtle hints, and outright invitations, before Harvey plucks up the courage to accept an invitation to your farm.

Your second Summer in Pelican Town - he knows how eager you are to show him your flower beds, from your afternoons stopping by at the clinic. The neat rows of strawberries, cucumbers that make the best pickles he’s ever had.

If only he could get out of his own head, and enjoy it.

His hands brace on his hips, as you take the path from the barn. A smile lingering from the chicks that gathered at his feet. Sneakers swapped for his shiny dress shoes - an olive sweatshirt pulled from the back of his closet, instead of his usual button-up.

Feeling out-of-place on your farm - walking so carefully, avoiding stepping on anything other than wood and cobblestone. None of the loose familiarity that you seem to carry, after a year of hard work and countless mistakes.

A flush heating his cheeks, when you tease that you're so glad he's made it out. Not knowing how he's wanted to agree, each time you asked. That he's picked up on your hints.

That it's just his nerves that steal his tongue. Too set in his ways. Too sure that he's a little too old for someone like you. That surely you've seen the way that Shane looks at you. Yoba, how nearly half the town does.

That he's reading too far into things. Certain that he's been too busy hoping, daydreaming - something not fit for a practical man like himself.

"You've seen these," You comment idly, bending to pluck a sweet pea from the earth.

He resists the urge to tuck it behind your ear, when you hold it aloft for him. Twirling it between long fingers instead, as he glances across the garden.

It's impressive, how it's thrived under your care. Used to visit your grandfather often, especially in the end. Had seen how the crops went from green to yellow, then brown. Drying up, with the sun.

It's nice to see - many cycles later - things growing again.

"What about those?" He asks, pointing towards a short patch of flowers.

You hum, picking one. Head dipping to inhale the scent, before offering it to him like the one before.

"Don't really know," A lift of shoulder, "Found some seeds in the mines. They actually just bloomed this morning. Pretty though, right?"

He's looking at you, as he answers.

"Right."

The flower is honey-sweet, when he brings it to his nose. Thick, velvet-pink petals and a tall anther - clinging with fluffy golden pollen. Realizing his mistake, when he inhales - allergies flaring. Forgetting, as the sneeze wracks through him.

You giggle, as the pink stain rises to his ears. The bud slips next to the sweet pea in his pocket - the flowers poking out near his hip - as you head tips towards the strawberries. Beckoning him to follow, and he's happy to be your shadow.

Three rows of berries later, as you are pointing out where you hope the pumpkins will grow, he starts to feel off.

Think it must be the sun. There isn't shade out in the field, like there is in town. Not fully fall yet, that liminal space between seasons that has you sweating during the day and grabbing a jacket at night.

You're frowning, when his eyes fix on you. Thoughts distracted - wondering if he can peel his sweater off, down to the white shirt beneath.

"You okay?" The sound of your voice sends a ripple down his spine. Goosebumps raising on his arms.

"Yeah." It's unconvincing. Suddenly aware of his pulse, heartbeat accelerated.

The look you shoot him matches your tone, "You wanna go inside for a bit? Believe me, I know how hot it can get."

He hums, and your frown deepens. A hand against his elbow, and it sends another jolt - his muscles stringing tight. It's then that he starts to worry.

To silently run through symptoms, as you lead him inside.

Clinging to the hope that it's just exhaustion from another late night.

Not going to let himself ruin a day he's looked forward to all week.

Doesn't breathe until he gets inside. Too aware of the hand on his shoulder. The way something inside him tightens, grows warm. Sweat starting to bead at his temples.

Heatstroke? His mind whirs away as he steps into the cabin with you. The cool air not quite the balm in the way he hoped it would be.

You hover. Too close - something wafting over him. Another clench in his guts, as he inhales the scent of vanilla, warmed amber, the heat of summer. The sticky cling of strawberry.

"Can I, uh," He manages. Tongue touching against his bottom lip, as if he could taste your scent, "I hate to ask, could I sit down for a minute?"

Could lead him to your couch, but you lead him to your room instead.

The bedroom is dark. Bed neatly made, a quilt tucked up under two pillows. Another shade cooler than the kitchen, with the fan you've left on. Dipping as he sits on the edge, the loose sweatshirt feeling too tight around his limbs.

"I'll get you some water." Your voice is worried. Quiet.

He nods dumbly.

Left alone with thoughts that aren’t quite his, as the door shuts behind you. They swirl at the edge of his mind.

Lascivious. An itch beneath his skin. That heat pooling low, beating with his heart.

Can’t seem to stop thinking about you. Bare legs that peek out from your shorts. The dip of your tank top, the urge to find you - tug it down, so his tongue can drag over every inch of your skin.

Harvey’s head shakes.

It’s like someone dipped into his dreams, and then accelerated them into overdrive. His heart pounding between his ribs as his thigh inch open.

The palm of his hand dripping, squeezing. Trying to relieve the ache.

His breath quickening when he feels how hard he is - thoughts too muddled to notice. That heat flickers, as he presses against the curve of his cock. Where it strains against his jeans, jutting into the fabric.

It’s wrong. He rubs harder, resisting the urge to work the belt open, tug at the zipper.

Stroke himself to the thought and smell of you. Dig around until he finds something of yours to inhale - trick himself into thinking you want him.

Thought this would ease the want, but it only burns brighter. His left hand curling into a fist, nails biting into his skin. An attempt to anchor himself - so he doesn’t go to you.

Afraid what would happen if he did.

He’s drawn to you, always.

The sound of ceramic shattering knocks his senses back into him. Catching the bitten-back gasp, barely audible from behind the wooden door.

For a moment, his mind overrides his condition. Worry flaring - yanking his sweatshirt from where it’s tucked in. Tugging it low as his fist curls around the knob.

Clinging to the doorframe, white-knuckled, as he sees the way you lean against the counter. An old mug broken to pieces beneath you - even from here he can see the way your head droops.

“I don’t-” You start - swallowing, your tongue flicking across your lip. There’s another low throb as he watches, eyes dropping greedily, “Not feeling so good, either.”

The clinical part inside him kicks in. Already assessing, as his eyes jerk up. Fingers pinching into wood, as he tries to concentrate.

Lips parted as you pant. The back of your hand pressing against your cheek, scrubbing across your forehead.

“What are your symptoms?” He coaxes - his voice low and rough.

You almost shudder. Hand dropping to brace against the counter.

“I feel… warm. Hot. It… it hurts,” You manage, your other hand drifting across your abdomen, “I feel empty, Harvey.”

Something inside him growls at the sound of his name. He wants to hear it again, wants to see how it sounds when you mewl it out, pleasure-drunk.

You swallow, “Is… is that how you feel?”

There’s hunger in your eyes, he can see it now.

“Something like that, sweetheart.” The name pulls from him.

Not the emptiness you describe, something greater. The urge to take, to bury himself in you until he’s not sure where he ends, and you begin.

Your head bobs with your nod. He pretends he doesn’t see the way your eyes drag over him, your words coming slowly, “What do you think it is? How do we get better?”

That he doesn’t know. His knuckles ache - hand loosening to smooth over his thighs, trying to keep them from wandering.

Only then does he feel the stem and petals. Something registering.

The flowers.

He plucks the pink bulb from his pocket, tongue trapped between his teeth. The honeyed scent rolls off it in waves now, stealing his breath.

An aphrodisiac. Something like chocolate, oysters, pomegranates - kicked up to a thousand.

Harvey doesn’t have any experience in this. Doesn’t have an answer, in all his hours of studying and practice.

But surely, if arosual ebbs with release, then…

“We can try to ease it.” Harvey manages, “Separately. Maybe I can head home-”

He manages a step, before a heady wave of needy flushes through him. Your cry loud, as if pained by the thought of him leaving.

“You can’t,” You bleat, “I’ll, I’ll just stay out here. We can try.”

Silence hangs. Eyes locked on each other - an urge to close the gap, but still clinging to self-control.

Another low pulse, his jaw gritting.

“Right.”

The door closes behind him. His thumb pressing against the latch, as his back slips against the wood.

This is ridiculous. The thought flutters in his mind, even as his hand is jerking his belt open. Ripping at the buttons and zipper.

A choked moan, when his hand finally wraps around himself. Bliss and agony at once, twining together.

Eyes closing as his head tips back, but all his thoughts are of you. Acutely aware of what you’re doing behind this door. Wondering if you’re thinking of him.

The sharp sting of jealousy at the thought of you picturing someone else, as you ease that empty ache inside you.

His fist moving faster, slick with the way he already drips. Tightening around his cock, as he imagines it’s you. Mouth, hands, pussy - pretty pictures swirling behind his closed eyes as your scent surrounds him.

Already certain of one thing. It hangs heavy, in the back of his mind - as the pleasure builds and then plateaus. His breath short and sharp, as he’s left hanging on the edge.

This isn’t going to be enough.

It feels like you’re on fire.

Even as two fingers sink inside you, you only want more.

Shorts tugged down to your knees, as you sink against the couch. Barely making it there, before the urge to break down the door and go to him overwhelmed you.

You need him.

He’s all you can see, as you try to quell the ache. A wet, rhythmic suck as you set a brutal pace, but it’s not the same.

It’s not Harvey.

Sweet, with the way he blushes. With how he checks on you, worries about you - can’t help but smile, when you’re around.

Harvey, with those long, perfect fingers. With his mouth - the shape your eyes have traced over, again and again.

You’ve wanted him for ages. Seasons passing as stilted conversations grew like the flowers you tended. Friendship, and then more, flourishing and blooming.

He might not want you after this.

It makes you ache in a new way. A pain behind your ribs, instead of low in your belly.

Frustration ripping from your throat with a sob, as the plunge of your fingers keeps you on a knife-edge.

It’s then, that the door opens.

Harvey lingering just inside. Worry scrawled across his flushed features. Beautifully disheveled, glasses askew - clothing hastily buttoned up when he heard your cry.

“I heard-,” He starts, trying so hard not to look down, “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Your head shakes.

“I need you.” You beg, “I can’t do this.”

His steps are slow. Hands clenched into fists as he hovers.

“I shouldn’t.” Harvey’s voice is quiet, his eyes pained, “It’s not right. I can’t do that to you-”

Unable to help looking then, jaw ticking as he swallows. Your fingers still moving, slipping out to rub circles against your clit.

“Don’t have to be a doctor right now.” It’s hushed, your eyes heavy-lidded, “I just want you to be, to be-”

“Be?” He echoes - at the edge of the couch now. Helplessly drawn to you. Hips nudging against the back of his hand, as his fingers curl around the wooden arm.

“Mine.”

It rips from you. An anguished admission, unable to hold it back any longer.

His features soften. Fingers unfurling, with his own confession, “Always been yours.”

Harvey meets you, as you push yourself up. Letting you tug him down on top of you, as your mouth tilts greedily up to his.

Your heart jolting, when your lips finally meet. A moan buzzing in your throat as he fits himself between your thighs. Folding himself onto your couch, as his hand maps out your skin.

Hips, waist. Skittering up to your jaw, cupping your face as his tongue licks into your mouth.

“Harvey please.” You beg.

Whine, whimper. Hip lifting against his, as he grinds down. The hard curve of his cock presses against your bare skin, the friction sending up jolts of pleasure.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. In your room - that particular thought not necessarily a new one.

But wishing you could help him. That he would want to help you. Picturing the way his hand would wrap around - in. your pollen-haze, you had imagined he was thinking of you.

Now you’re certain he was, with the way your name slips from him.

With the way his hips rock - needy. Bucking into your hand, when your fingers drift to help free him fully.

You try to guide him into you, but he slips against slick skin. Gliding against your folds, as his head dips between his shoulders.

“S-Shouldn’t.” He breathes. Glasses dipping down his nose, as his jaw clenches, “I’m sorry, darling-”

“I’m sorry, too.” Your teeth sink into your lower lip, to muffle the sound he pulls from you, “Sorry it’s like this-”

The pleasure tips into pain. A cramp in your guts that has you crying out, a hand flattening against your stomach.

His expression morphing into worry, his hand covering yours.

“But I’m not sorry it’s you.”

Out of everyone who could help you, you know it could only be Harvey.

Silence hangs for a heartbeat. Sweat beads at your temple as his eyes search yours. The slow dip of his head until he can kiss you again.

Something soft mumbled out.

“This okay?” His hand nudges, replacing yours. A tremble as he holds himself against you, the head of his cock teasing at your hole, “I mean, I know it’s not. Are you-?”

“You know I am.” You whine, “I need you, Harvey-”

His name strings out, as he sinks into you. The couch creaking as you jolt - a sharp hiss between clenched teeth when he feels how warm and wet you are around him.

Forgetting to take things slow, as his mind swirls. Sending you from empty to full with the rut of his hips, your toes curling as his hips snap flush with yours.

“Oh, fuck,” You gasp. That deep itch scratched. Pleasure blooming, as you clench around him, “‘m fine. Just, please-”

Harvey inches out, only to drive back in.

“I know.”

His forehead pressing to yours, as he starts to rock into you, over and over. It leaves you feeling swollen to the touch. A little hitch in your breath each time the head of his cock skates across that spot inside you.

Your pussy drooling around his cock, sticky-slick as his hands brace against the couch. Fingers biting into the fabric, panting against your mouth as you share the same breath.

His name a ragged moan, as the need in your guts is fed. Kept content, as long as he stayed inside you - rutting tirelessly. Each pump of his hips feels like a step taken towards the edge of a cliff, his fingers entwined in yours as he prepares to leap with you.

“Feels-” Harvey breathes, as your hips lift to meet his, “You feel so good, sweetheart.”

You clench around him and he groans. The coarse hairs at the base of his cock rubbing against your swollen clit, sending up fireworks inside your belly.

Winding you higher and higher, until your left clinging to him. Lips pressing against his throat - inhaling. Letting him surround you, as your breath turns short and sharp.

“Harvey.” It’s a plea and a warning, your teeth skating across his skin.

“Tell me you’re close,” He begs, “I can’t, honey-”

Cant hold back much longer. Needs to feel you come with him, around him.

Your answer is swept away with your need. His balance shifting just enough to fit the tips of two fingers against you. Circling with the same rhythm he had watched you set.

His name is chanted out, as you arch against him. A soft whine that turns loud, until your hips are bucking up - relief roaring through you like fire, as your words string into broken cries.

It feels like you pulse around him in time with your heartbeat. Feeling the throb of his cock inside you as he follows, his mouth pressing messily to yours as you swallow his ragged groan.

The needy pace slowing, as you start to come back down. Still so full of him but the frenzy has ebbed - the jittering in your veins flatlining, as you manage to suck in a breath.

Shame washing over you, as your fingers wrap in his t-shirt. Torn between clinging to him and pushing him away - so sure this ruined the delicate thing you’ve been tending.

“Harvey, I-”

Another throb, as the pollen kicks to life instead. You can see it written across his face, that base need fighting with his logic.

Your thoughts reflected in his eyes as well. A little nod that you match, as he starts to move again.

Something soft murmured out, before he loses himself again. Another thrust.

“Not your fault.” He tells you, “I’m not sorry that it was you, either.”

He’ll still want you, after this.

He’ll want you forever.

The sling of your arm blocks out the rays of sun that creep in through the windows. Sweat-dewed skin, pressed together.

Somewhere between this round and the last, you made it to your room. More space there, your knees pressing into the mattress as he made you moan into the sheets.

He leaks from you. Too much - it’s sticky on your thighs, dripping down to the fabric below.

“Again?” You ask - that warmth still blooming within you. The sharp edge tempered, but it still hums in your veins.

A groan, as he guides you on top of him. In the same state you are. That haze gone from his pretty eyes, but he’s still hard beneath you.

Still wanting.

Hips lifting into your touch as you grip him, lining him up.

He tugs you down. Flush. Twin groans as his cock spears deep again. More of him dripping down, forced out as he fills you perfectly.

“Again.”

thank you for reading! 💖

[yandere-swallowtailcherry]

Admirable {Yandere!Apollo x Nymph!Reader x Father!Helios} Pt 1

Record of ragnarok version!

Helios is NOT a yandere, only Apollo.

In this, you're a flower nymph (if that's even a thing-)

You watched your fellow nymphs gush over Apollo, who was smiling at them. He was giving all of them the attention they wanted. Except you. He barely have you attention, even if you were in his sights.

At first, you were one of them. But over time, your crush on Apollo slowly faded away, and it turned into irritation for him now that you began to realise his true colours. Nowadays, you did your best to avoid him at all costs, well as much as you can. Some of the other nymphs often dragged you along with them. The only two nymphs that knew you no longer love Apollo were Callista and Arete.

Just like you, both Callista and Arete grew to dislike Apollo and try their best to avoid him as well.

Whenever you get dragged by the other nymphs, either of the two will make up excuses for you so that you wouldn't have to see Apollo.

This is one of those times.

"Come along, (Y/n)! We have to see Apollo!" One of the nymphs squealed, grabbing your hand and started rushing over to the god. You tried to get your wrist out of her grip, only succeeding when the nymph stopped in her tracks. You looked over, seeing Arete standing over the nymph holding your wrist. Arete was one of the tallest of the nymphs, nearly the same height as Apollo, so she towered over the smaller nymphs. Not to mention she looks intimidating to most.

"Let her go. Can't you see her discomfort?" Arete asked, pointing at you. The nymph quickly looked back and let your wrist go.

"I-I-I'm sorry!" The nymph exclaimed in fear, running past Arete and towards Apollo. Arete clicked her tongue and looked at you.

"You okay, (Y/n)?" Arete asked, helping you up and leading you away from Apollo and the other nymphs.

"I'm fine, Arete. Thanks." You replied with a nod and a grateful smile, some pink roses blooming in your hair. Arete laughed and patted your head.

"Good to know, sis. Let's go find Callista." Arete suggested. Your smile went wider and you picked up the pace, nearly leaving Arete behind. The river nymph laughed again, shaking her head and easily caught up to you. You both found Callista in a field and both started hanging out with each other for the remainder of the day.

Apollo, on the other hand, was enjoying the nymphs that gushed over him. He noticed that three nymphs weren't present.

"I could've sworn I saw three more of you ladies here." Apollo pointed out. The nymph that Arete intimidated had her eyes widen.

"You mean Arete, Callista and (Y/n)?" She asked. Apollo knew the first two, but your name seemed familiar to him....

"(Y/n).... The one that always has flowers in her hair.... She used to be all over me." Apollo mumbled. He quickly shook it off and went on with the nymphs.

A couple of months have passed and you were sitting on a rock, eating berries as the nymphs nearby got themselves ready to see Apollo again. To your relief, none of them bothered to try taking you along with them like before. That was because Arete told them not to drag you to Apollo and threatened them to leave you alone. So they just got ready and walked away, leaving you alone near a river.

After you finished eating the berries in your hands, you for up from the rock and walked around, making your way to a familiar temple of the Titan god of the sun, Helios.

"Greetings, (Y/n). " The voice greeted you politely. A tall and glowing man with long golden hair and matching eyes slowly descended upon you, a gentle smile on his face.

"Lord Helios! So great to see you!" You said in excitement.

"It's great to see you too, (Y/n)." Helios said, looking into your eyes with a warm smile on his face. You stared back, the pink roses blooming in your hair again. Helios notices and touched one of them with fascination.

"You still look just as beautiful with each passing day." Helios whispered, admiring the roses in your hair. Your face heated up from the close contact with your hair.

"I've noticed how you started going to me instead of Apollo. Your feelings for Apollo have disappeared because he's never acknowledged you." Helios said. You didn't say a word, just stared at the Titan god. He was right. Apollo has rarely given you attention, whilst Helios gave you all the attention.

"How about I take you in? As my daughter?" Helios asked. Your eyes widen at the offer. Helios, a Titan god, offering to take you, a nymph, as his daughter?!

"Yes! I'd love that!" You replied happily, the pink roses in your hair crystallizing. Helios looked amused by your enthusiasm, despite only getting to know him for a couple of months.

"Very well. Stand still." Helios instructed, using his powers to turn you into a goddess. You felt a sudden urge of power in your body, a sign that it worked.

"From now on, you, (Y/n), will be known as the Goddess of happiness."

~~~~~

End of Part 1! Don't worry, Apollo will be a yandere, it'll just take time.

[seaspringangel]

a place along the flowers — tartaglia

summary: you give your loving boyfriend the greatest birthday gift of all time in a field of flowers.

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: fem!reader ✦ reader wears a dress ✦ childe is called by his birth name ✦ outdoor sex ✦ fingering ✦ biting ✦ creampie ✦ some possessiveness ✦  pet names (love / good girl / baby) ✦ childe is a needy feral freak but that’s why we love him 

notes: belated bday gift for the ginger-haired menace <3

In the summer haze, Ajax laid his head in your lap and breathed you in.

Flowers surrounded the both of you, but to him, you were the meadow's loveliest one, a perfect bloom for his flaming, hungry teeth to tear into.

Because for every berry he ate from your fingers, Ajax was determined to leave behind a small, stinging nip with his teeth, soothing each little nick with nectar-sweetened kisses.

“If you keep on doing that,” you grumbled down at him, his long legs stretched out in the long grass without a care, “I’m shoving these berries down your throat and leaving you here.”

Ajax grinned up at you then, his smile as saccharine as the berry juices staining the corner of his mouth, a celebration of summer blotted much like blood.

“Sorry,” he murmured, but his tone was as light as the summer breeze playing in his hair. “Guess I’m too hungry.”

You squished his face, making his freckles bunch together like a cluster of starry apples. Ajax only peered up at you innocently, his eyes sparkling. He truly was as adorable as he was irritating, and you thought about taking a bite out of him as revenge, but you knew doing that would only thrill him into acting up even more. 

“And annoyingly spoiled. You’re lucky it’s your birthday,” you snapped, but you still dutifully lowered a berry to his lips, waiting. Ajax wasted no time, darting his tongue out and licking the treat from your sticky fingers—no better than a starving dog that wanted nothing more than to shred your flowered dress into pretty ribbons and clutch the ruined tatters as a prize between his salivating teeth. 

But even when your boyfriend acted this greedy, you couldn’t help but feel something unspooling inside you—something syrupy and warm, as if you were laying in a patch of cozy sunlight.

Until you felt his damn teeth nip at you again.

You quickly retreated your fingers from his maw and clamped a hand over his mouth. You glared down at him. “Next birthday, you're getting a muzzle.”

But Ajax knew how to soften you up just as he knew how to agitate you. He pressed a kiss as soft as petals to your palm, and you felt yourself unfurl, warmth spreading sweetly and slowly like honey through your veins. 

Ajax then grabbed your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist, feeling the lively thrum of your pulse against his lips. “And keep me from kissing you everywhere? I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

You roll your eyes, but that doesn’t stop the blood from rushing to your cheeks; that doesn’t stop him from peppering more kisses on your arm, looking up at you adoringly. “You know, there’s a certain gift you could still give me before it gets dark and we head home…”

Heart fluttering at his suggestion, you watch the sun sink behind the hills, slowly blanketing the world in silky shadow. “And what makes you think you deserve that?” you scoffed.

One second you watched the sky brighten with the glitter of lantern lights; the next second your world was blurring over, and your boyfriend was hovering above you, trapping you beneath him. 

Backlit by the fading golden light, Ajax’s eyes were clouded with devotion and desire for you, bluer than the sky he mounted you under. You felt his hardness against your thigh, felt his cock throb against you, and your stomach became alight with a thousand crystalflies. “I think I can work for it,” he said, smiling down at you and you feel yourself warm instantly.

When Ajax smiled at you, it was like the sun shining beyond the white fleece of clouds. 

Dimpled, warm, and sweet, he had that boyish smile that leaves golden dust over everything like a ray of sunshine, making the day much brighter and your heart so much warmer. 

But he also had a smile that could burn hot enough to start a forest fire—flickering and wild and unrestrained, but still so beautiful that you couldn’t help but lift your palms to feel the scorching heat kiss your flesh. 

When he looked at you with that kind of reverence blacked by the flames of his hunger, you didn’t have the strength to deny him what he wanted; so when he requested to eat berries from the palm of your hand, you indulged him, and when he began to stroke you from your knee up to your thigh with bruising fingers, you let him; and now, when he yanked at the ribbons that tied the bodice of your dress together in his fervent quest to fuck you in the warm, darkening air of the meadow, you had no choice but to grant him his wish.

After all, he was the birthday boy, and who were you to keep the present he yearned for the most away from him?

Ajax's kisses left a fire trail, open-mouthed and searing, from your collarbones to your neck to your lips. You moaned as he roughly palmed your breasts through your dress, and you felt his urgency, his utter hunger, burning beneath his skin like an inferno. 

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” Ajax groaned against your mouth, a desperate, sultry hymn that made your heart race and heat rush to the aching place between your thighs, already weeping with your desire. “I’ve been wanting you all day.” 

Trapped in the arms of your wild lover, the one who’ll scatter your sweetness among the grass like petals, Ajax tore your dress down, exposing your breasts to his mouth. It was like a feast, with him latching onto one nipple and sucking and biting until it bruised plum purple like the night sky before repeating the same action to the other. Pain and pleasure sparked to life in you like the lantern lights up above, twinkling gemstones encrusting the night sky.

When his fingers slid into you, you gasped into his mouth; his strokes were fast and vicious but electrifying, pushing deep inside of you and hitting that heavenly place that yearned for his brutal caress the most. You felt hot all over as if you had swallowed the sun. But Ajax was the sun, igniting you from within, his touch and kisses spreading like wildfire over your body. You desperately wanted to be consumed; you wanted to be razed down, leaving nothing behind but shifting ash at his feet. 

And you did melt away to nothing beneath him, your vision flashing white and bright when your body shook as you came undone upon his fingers, pearling them with your wetness. You clung to him, trying to catch the breath that he stole. 

“Ajax, please, please,” you whimpered, and Archons above, you wanted him inside you; you wanted him to sink so deeply into you that you didn’t know where he ended and where you began, entwined forever with each other in this hazy summer dream.

Ajax chuckled, nuzzling against the crook of your neck. "Please, what, love? What do you want me to do to you?” 

You were not above begging at this point. “I want you to fuck me, please. I need you.” You ground your hips against him in need, but Ajax just looked down at you, his sunny smile edged with something darker. 

“Wanna clean me up first?” He said, brushing the fingers that were inside of you against your lips, urging your mouth open, your wetness shimmering on them, an opalescent string catching the light from the moon, much like precious dew drops clinging to a flower.

You opened your mouth and took in his fingers, your essence coating your tongue with its husky sweetness. Ajax groaned as he felt your tongue wrap around them, hungrily licking him clean with grazes of your teeth. You were no better than him from moments earlier; you both were wild, wanton things that desired nothing more than to bite the hand that fed you. 

Letting go of him with a lewd pop, Ajax’s fingers were shining bright with your saliva, and he reverently rubbed his lips against them, leaving behind a gleaming shine of your essence on his mouth. 

“Good girl,” Ajax murmured, kissing your forehead softly. “You taste sweeter than berries.” His fingers gently caressed your wet folds, his eyes dark with wonder. “You’re already so wet for me. You want me that badly, huh? Do you know how much I want you?”

He grabbed your hand and pressed it firmly against his crotch, making you feel the hardness of his cock beneath your palm, the precum dampening the fabric of his pants. With his guidance, you unbuckled and pulled down his pants, revealing what you craved most—his cock, red and weeping at the tip, desperate for the sweet relief only you could give him.

Lifting your legs onto his shoulders, Ajax’s grin burned bright, full of ravenous, flaming need. “I want everything to hear how much you want me,” he growled, lining himself up at your entrance. “From the sky to the trees to the flowers, I want everything to hear how much you need me.”

Ajax thrust into you abruptly, roughly, passionately, and you arched your back at the intense pleasure of finally, finally being filled to the point of breaking. His body covered yours, pinning you beneath him like a pressed flower, attempting to envelop you completely.

“You feel so good,” Ajax breathed deliriously against your neck, thrusting as deep as he possibly could into you, bottoming out before pulling back to go even deeper. “You’re so fucking tight.”

His name escaped your lips in strangled gasps as you sank your nails into his shoulder blades, overwhelmed by the warm air licking at your burning flesh, the pleasant friction of the flowers and grass scratching your back beneath you, of Ajax’s cock thrusting ruthlessly into the depths of your slick walls as you rocked against his brutal rhythm. 

The lewd sounds of wet skin against wet skin created a beautiful, sinful harmony with the wind whistling through the trees, filling you with a brightness that outshone the lantern lights sailing through the sky above, a destructive flame roaring to life within as you hurdled toward your climax.

Ajax growled a dark, thundering sound that sent shivers through you, making your walls clench even tighter around him. You could feel he was close, too—his muscles stiffening, his pace becoming more erratic and desperate. 

“Cum, baby, cum,” Ajax breathed in your ear as you babbled incoherently, your stomach tensing and tensing with pleasure, “Let yourself go, I got you, I always got you.”

And so you let yourself become undone. 

Vibrant, blinding colors spotted your vision as your orgasm seared through you, your bones melting away with what was left of your senses. Ajax unraveled too, long ropes of his cum coating your walls in its warmth and he bit down on your shoulder, burying the sounds of his release into your skin as his rutting into you slowed down. 

You vaguely felt the pain, but you might as well be weightless, your soul soaring away with the lanterns floating in the sky.

You felt Ajax’s love weep out of you, dribbling languidly down your thigh, wetting the earth beneath you. Ajax’s face swam into view, lovingly flushed. He collected his seed seeping from you with his fingers, spreading it around on your battered folds. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, entranced. “Beneath me where you belong, all my cum leaking out of you…”

Through the haze of your vision, you could see your blood blotted on Ajax’s mouth like a crimson cloud, and he licked the ichor from his lips as if were berry juices. 

tags: @tetsuskei ✦ @houseofsolisoccasum ✦ likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, i hope you enjoyed <3

[dorcas4meadowes]

Strawberry Kisses - Luke

Castellan

Pairing: Luke Castellan × Reader

Summary: with a majority of the summer campers away, you and Luke indulged in the quiet through strawberry picking and a picnic date

Warnings: bodies of water, kisses

W/c: 1.5k (I think)

»»———-　　———-««

Sunlight hit Luke's features ever so sweetly, casting a golden halo over his tousled curls. He led you through the paths which were weaved between bushes allowing your fingers to grasp every plump fruit that caught your gaze.

You granted yourself the luxury of becoming distracted admiring the pleasures of the harvest season. You lingered amongst the scent of ripened strawberries and the feeling of dewy warmth, your arms swaying alongside your wicker basket which accommodated very few berries, eating more than you stowed away.

As you gathered the luscious fruits time seemed to slow, savouring the simple moments.

"They’re almost as sweet as you," Luke mused, holding a fruit up to the sunlight before placing it into the basket.

"Any time I believe you couldn't become any more sap you manage to outdo yourself Castellan."

He favoured the way your voice lulled his last name - it was said by many - but your lips managed to make the word seem untouchable. He placed a peck on your cheek before leaning down to twist a berry from a bush, before you too began to discover them hidden behind the copious greenery and flourishing flowers.

Once your container brimmed with red you dispersed from the fields with a smile, taking a detour to your cabin to pick up a larger hamper - filled with sweet delights - and made your way towards a secluded meadow dappled in indirect sunlight.

The perfect sanctuary for a picnic.

You stepped your feet onto the lush grass and escorted Luke towards the lake and laid your chequered blanket beneath the shade of an oak tree, the branches forming a natural shade.

You stretched yourself on the spread, enveloping yourself into the soft murmur of nature and letting tranquillity tug you into a tender embrace.

"Two days." Luke mumbled, noting you of the impending summer break.

"Mm, don't remind me" You said, reaching your fingers to rest in his curls and pull him closer to plant a sweet his on his lips. You left his warmth for a few moments before immediately being tugged back in. "Got something on your mind?" You asked.

"A few things…"

His fingers trailed along your back as if it were a path, your spine a road for his hands which led him to the crease of your knee. He lifted your leg over his own, inviting you to a seat - which you comfortably took - resting your weight against him. His hands slithered to rest in the dip of your curves, taking advantage of his position to brush warm kisses against your jaw and open shoulders. You moved a little to get an "adequate chair", but your actions were evident of what you were attempting, the kisses becoming unsteady and shaky. Your heart began to race in contrast to your slowing thoughts, being consumed in the intensity of your blended emotions.

Then they stopped all together, his head turned from you to find the startled gaze of your close friends – Clarisse and Chris – supposedly on their own adventure.

"Fuck" you mumbled, awkwardly waving to them after tumbling from your boyfriend's lap.

"Why are you waving?" Luke asked

"Maybe they'll go away."

"Piss off Rodriguez!" he yelled across the hill, his sibling swiftly putting his thumbs up before dragging Clarisse away who raised an eyebrow at your commotion.

"Why were they this far away from camp?" you questioned.

"Probably looking for a place to shag." He said bluntly.

After the encounter, you remained "civil" attempting to not scar any more of your companions. You spoke about your plans for when the summer residents would flood back to the camp and the duties you would start. Though, to be bold, Luke couldn't be more uninterested in the stress of a few days, so he pulled his shirt over his head, causing your lips to close and form a smile.

"A swim, while we still can?" He asked, allowing his fingers to snake to your shoulder to slip the strap from your dress. When the support fell, his eyes shamelessly glanced at the bikini which adorned your top, your chest pooling out of the small fabric.

Despite not being the first time he saw you undressed, a flush spread across his cheeks, a similar to the shade of the berries that you picked earlier.

"Swimming's still on, right?" You questioned trying to remain nonchalant, your hand lifting his chin, so his eyes met yours.

"Yeah, yeah," he reconfirmed, his words breathy and diverted.

You slid off your dress and stood, reaching out for his hand to drag him towards the cool tide, your feet stinging from the warmth of the sand which met the shore. Confidence began to seep into your posture as Luke seemed more flustered than he was letting on.

His mind was still preoccupied, so you kicked water at him, creating a war against the sea and the bodies that stood amongst it. You both lingered in the tide and hit one another with gushes of cool until you were fully submerged, gasping for air as your heads rose from the depth of the water.

You turned toward Luke and accepted his outstretched hand which curled around your waist and wrapped under your leg to fold your thighs around his torso. Your chin fell against his shoulder, your arms relaxed around his neck, simply being close to one another.

"Only if we weren't in public…" He muttered, swaying you a little in the water. You weren't in the direct vision of the camp, but this spot was common for wandering satyr's - and Clarisse and Chris - so you kept somewhat disciplined.

"Oh, do tell." You craved as he nipped at the skin below your ear, your legs tightening against him as he whispered sweet - dirty - nothings to you. The familiar all-consuming tension from earlier returned as easily as it left.

He slipped a finger under your jaw to force your eyes to his and you didn't waste time in pressing your lips together. It started gentle - just a press - , but Luke reassured you of how soft his heart truly was for you.

You revelled in the knowledge that only you got to see him like this, so relaxed and pure. Heat took hold and became contagious to Luke, the passion and intensity the two of you shared having no place for the public eye. It’s kept stowed away in the innocent gestures of light, playful touches or holding hands, now it’s revealed itself for what it is.

Inescapable.

No matter how many times the two of you kissed, each time felt different. Each kiss filled with depths of your emotions, that only spilled over when you couldn’t physically contain the heat any longer. He indulged once more before placing a quick kiss to your cheek, dismissing your prying hands and throwing you into the surf and swimming away, leaving you chasing after him.

You stayed in the ocean - quick pecks and swims - until you both grew exhausted and took rest on your blanket, leaving your bodies uncovered for the sun to kiss.

You lay tired and gazed up at the endless sky and let Luke busy himself amongst the flora, slipping many small flowers he had collected into the curvatures of your hair, sliding them into your braids.

And in moments like these you could appreciate what the fates had woven into your future - despite their dreadful manners - beauty could be found amongst the threads and fabrics, the boy beside you covering your life's canvas with an outbreak of stain age.

——————————

If you want to be added to a tag list for Luke fics just comment (requests are open as always)

<33

Master list

[itstimetojellyfish]

These days , have not been the best.( Dan Heng x Reader)

AHHHHHHHHHHH

Useless .

Everyone calls you that .

“Not even worth a single penny . “

“Don’t waste your time on them.”

You don’t blame them though , you were supposed to be there , helping others like you promised .

However , you left suddenly. This was because you had suddenly contracted a disease . If only you had taken the vaccine…. Then maybe rumors wouldn’t circulate around you .

Maybe the false information about you seeing another other than your dear lover wouldn’t be online and you would instead be in his arms sleeping .

( You hate yourself for being so weak)

Instead of being in the archives sleeping on your lovers futon with his other form wrapped around you , you’re sitting down in a cave on the planet you landed on .

Cold , alone , wet , and utterly miserable.

When the first rumors came out , Dan Heng saw them immediately, then he sought you out , seeing you talking with another man .

After you were done talking, he immediately confronted you about them , you thought he was foolish for believing them .

( You forgot that he revealed his past and now he’s insecure about your relationship)

You pay the price now .

People badmouthing you, tripping you , and even shoving you around , resulting in injuries that would leave a scar , both emotionally and physically.

Now , usually Dan Heng or the other Astral express members would help you , but ever since the rumors came out , they avoided you and seemed to loathe you .

( Do they all believe those lies?)

Your heart was torn apart and burned .

The one you loved most wouldn’t even spare a glance at you.

The people you deemed friends wouldn’t help you .

So now you’re on a cold , barren planet , abandoned , shivering , and crying .

(You wish they would’ve at least given you a blanket. )

(But you know you don’t deserve any kindness for being so weak and pathetic.)

So you sit there . Letting the cold wind slice through your clothes and hit your vulnerable skin , you start to pale .

You’ve always had problems with your body temperature. Usually you carry ice packs or blankets with you if the planet was cold or hot .

But the people left you here without alerting the Astral express so now you have no way of going home and sleeping.

You’re tired .

Cold too .

Soft pattering and loud thunder alerts you that it’s raining .

( You wish Dan Heng was here )

You curl in on yourself as a mock attempt to mimic the warmth your lover gave you when you were cold .

It’s useless .

Your arms are too small and cold , you don’t have a jacket or a soothing voice .

Your heart throbs and wails for at least a bit of affection , it doesn’t have to be a kiss , it doesn’t have to be a hug .

All you need is someone that cares for you .

Nothing else .

Nothing more .

You hate being alone . It makes you feel weak , vulnerable, and pathetic. It also reminds you of how much everyone hates you .

You sit there in the cave with barely any food for 2 weeks . Water is available since it rains pretty often .

You have a wound with an infection on your stomach and your legs are weak . You broke an ankle earlier trying to get some berries up on a mountain side .

Your stomach hurts and growls 24/7 and it’s making you vomit constantly .

Soon , you’re crying alone on the cold, rocky floor , stomach twisting unpleasantly as you writhe around in pain .

( You don’t hear the sound of something landing on the ground)

There’s a few clacks and then… you see pale skin and golden heels in front of you ..

Murmuring ensues and you wish that they would just kill you .

Then 2 pairs of black shoes come into your field of vision and a sweet voice gently whispers in your ears .

“ Hey… Y/N .. it’s gonna be okay , we’re so sorry be believed those rumors … “ Soft hands gently pull the slit on your clothes and an audible wince occurs as they see the gash on your stomach with an infection on it .

You close your eyes and go limp .

It sounds like March 7th. You miss her bubbly voice and tone .

Black fingerless globes come into your vision as you see a fluffy gray head . The gentle hands tilt your head and then you see amber eyes soften .

“ Dan Heng….medical… they’re …. “ The words coming from his mouth seem distorted and your eyes blink wearily .

You see bright red hair come into view as warm hands gently trace the wound around your stomach .

“ Poor thing…We’re so sorry for not coming sooner , your ankles broken too …”

You wince and whimper. The pain sears through your delicate senses as you try to escape it , though it doesn’t do anything other than amplify it.

Soon , you’re being lifted and you see the Astral Express come into view . Your eyes widen and then you squirm .

No! You can’t burden them again!

The arms carrying you shuffle to adjust your constant squirming , they then lift you up to the person shoulder and you see a pale white jacket .

A teal tail gently curls around your waist , careful not to disturb your wound and infection as they secure you in order to not open the wound your body tries so hard to close .

You whine . You missed this tail .. it would always caress your body and love it with all it could .

You made grabby hands in the air , asking for something you didn’t you know could get .

A warm fuzzy tip rubbed against your cheek as you slumped and curled in . The wound on your stomach stretching a bit making you wince.

A pink and blue head pops into your field of vision as you realize it’s Dan Heng holding you .

March looks at you with worried eyes as she sees how cloudy yours are .

Soon, you’re in the express , being stuck in a cuddle pile including Caelus , March, and Dan Heng , with at least 6 blankets on top of you as every one avoids the wound you have .

You had to stay at Herta’s space station for a while and then return to the Astral Express , the people who started the rumors about you are very much in the hospital.

They had almost gotten you killed without anyone knowing .

You gently turn on your side to see Dan Heng looking at you back.

You sit there like a deer in headlight . He gently places his hand on your chin before kissing you . His other hand trails down to your lower back and rubs it gently.

“ I’m so sorry” He nuzzles your forehead gently .

“ It’s … okay … “

“ These days haven’t been the best , so I’ll make the rest as good as I can.”

[writingsbychlo]

SWEET LIKE SUGAR | 02

summary; after an awkward breakfast and some clarification, you and azriel take the next step in your agreement.

word count; 8091

notes; y'all I hope you love this, it's pretty much just 8,000 words of pure fluff, it's adorable. I love this series so much.

When the sunlight first hit your eyes, you groaned, twisting your face to bury deeper into the pillow. It wasn’t usually the direction that sunlight came in through your dingy window, warmth cascading across the wrong side of your face, and you dragged your hand up to cover it. 

Some day, you’d be able to afford curtains to properly block it out. That little indulgence just surged up a few places on your mental list. Before your hands reached your face, however, cool darkness blocked it out, your hand skimming across the mattress lazily, and one eye cracking open. 

Before you, like a swirling mass of darkness, was a tendril of shadow. Twisting slowly in the morning light, dancing between golden sun-rays and blocking it from your field of you. Your body jerked, a slight shriek falling from your lips as you scrambled back across the bed, bracing yourself to fall over the edge and hit the floor. 

You never did. The plush mattress seemed to stretch on and on, your body aching and protesting the sudden movements from where you’d still been on the cusp of sleep. 

The shadow looked almost amused, dancing along the streams of light and closer to you, meeting the mattress and slithering its way across the comforter towards you. At the first cold brush of it across your knuckles, the fog cleared, and your memories all seemed to come flooding back. It was some kind of blur, sweet smiles and towering wings and the taste of berries and warm spices like a memory across your tastebuds. 

Hauling your legs up to your chest, you bent forward, until your forehead could press to your knees, and took several deep, shuddering breaths. Your toes curled in the bedding, still warm, the smell of mist and fresh earth lingering around the room, like the smell of the air after it rained, calming and soothing and cool. When you finally lifted your head again, you could take it all in. 

There, still sitting atop the chest of drawers was your dress, folded neatly just as you’d left it. The tray of tea and cookies had been cleared from the stool at the end of the bed, but the plush cushioning still held a slight imprint of where it had sat all night. 

The shadow was back, splitting into two and whirling around each side of your face, the touch of them light like a ghost, smoothing over your skin like a feather, and your lips twitched a little at the edges. 

“You scared me, y’know.” The spiral they made around your fingers when you lifted a hand was like a silent snicker, and you watched them form ever-changing patterns across the surface of your skin, playful and sweet. “I’m not used to waking up and finding the shadows moving.”

The windows were shut, no gust filtered through the room, but the shadows in the room all seemed to sway once, like a breeze through curtains, shimmying back into place, and a gasp held in your throat.

“Am I supposed to leave now?” Your heart clenched a little at the thought, and though Azriel was nowhere to be seen now, you knew he must be somewhere, he wouldn't have just left you here in his bed. The shadows banded around your wrist, the darkness in the room seeming to pulse for a moment, and your brow inched up. “No? Am I supposed to stay?”

The flicker of shadows seemed like a far more empathetic yes, and your smile stretched more. 

“Well, then, where is your master?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d have sworn the shadows bristled at that, a sense deep within you telling you that they’d give a disgruntled huff if capable, and your chuckle blew them like powder on the wind. Detangling from our arm, they blew across the air, before reforming from mist and hovering in a swirling column near the bedroom door. 

The carpet was plush underneath your toes as you stood, stretching your arms high above your head, feeling your joints ease happily into the day after sleep on such a comfortable mattress, nothing like your own. One step after another, you seemed to inch silently across the house, no creaking or cracked floorboards, and the door clicked softly out of place as you twisted the knob open.

The shadow moved, darting away from you like a flash of black, and you glanced around the corridor, tracking each direction. Nothing seemed to give away where you should go, the maze of corridors and doorways looming along each direction was dizzying, and you wished you’d paid at least a little attention last night when Azriel had guided you through the house, instead of staring at his back muscles and blushing. That same blush played on your cheeks now as you thought about it. 

Hovering at the end of the hall to your right was the shadow, bobbing almost impatiently in the air, it's twirling like a ballerina’s ribbon increasing in speed as it hurried you along, and your footsteps were rushed as you chased after it before it disappeared again. By the time you reached the end of the hall, though, it was gone, and you peered around the corner just to be met with more halls. 

Hovering by an open-arch doorway, your guide traced the patterns on the wood, playing in each dip and rivulet, and the rest of the shadows along the hall fluttered towards it, encouraging you to keep going. As you neared, the smell of bacon hit your nose, warm and salty and enough to make your stomach grumble, and you licked across dry lips at the thought of it. That same shadow darted down, smacking across your forehead lightly and bouncing off, spinning through the air toward a set of stairs at the end of this room. 

You followed them down, down, down, until the carpet gave way to cold wooden floorboards, and more shadows seemed to slither along the bottom floor of the house, like lazy puddles that barely dared to shift or glance up as you passed by. 

The first few you tried to avoid, hopping around and past them, before it was impossible, and you were stumbling through clouds of darkness that merely shifted around your ankles, reforming on the other side, entirely unaffected by your presence.

At last, you found the kitchen, a room you knew, following the shadow, and the faint humming of a deep voice, accompanied by the popping of oil in a pan. Standing before the stove, miles of tan skin and dark leathery wings on display, Azriel stood before the stove, shirtless as he cooked, and leaving the few pale scars across his back exposed to you to observe. They were nothing like the ones on his hands, the uncontrolled and swirling flesh he’d been branded with. These were precise and clean, nicks from blades and arrows, even a few slightly puckered that seemed to mark the lashings of a whip, almost faded into the depth of golden skin now. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?” A deep voice uttered, even more so than it had been the night before, and you felt the slight tremble of your legs with the rasp of it. Throaty and thick, his morning voice still hadn't cleared, and you wondered once again how this man could possibly be single, could need to resort to making a deal with you; the absurd deal he likely regretted once the sun had risen. 

“Good morning.” You mumbled, watching as he turned, a wide smile on his face as he put out the flame on the stove, the sizzling of the bacon slowing without heat. When he moved, you could see the contents of the pan then, your mouth watering. Not just bacon, but sausages too, and eggs. He stepped toward you, revealing more of the counter, a plate of toast and butter, ready to go. 

“You hungry?” He teased, shifting to grab for the kettle, and pouring some tea into an empty mug, before adding a dollop of honey into it. Making his way over to you, you could only nod, watching all the stacked, towering muscle of him closing in on you, until your back was pressed to the doorframe, head tipped back to look up at him. The teasing grin faded to a smile as he pressed the warm porcelain into your hands. “I cooked for you.”

“Very kind of you.” Your whisper was shared in the space between you both, and he raised a hand to tuck some stray hair behind your ears, before stepping back. His eyes flickered across every inch of your face, observing, analysing, and you hoped what he saw was what he wanted. 

“You feelin’ okay? How’d you sleep?” The words were thrown over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen island, tugging out a stool and tapping it, a silent order to take a seat. Your feet were moving before your brain had even caught up, sinking down onto the tall stool and bracing your elbows on the counter, still clutching the mug. 

“I slept better than I have in a long time. Maybe ever. You have a very comfortable mattress.” Words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, words that made you feel like an idiot, a fool— until he laughed, a soft chuckle under his breath, eyes sparkling as he turned to face you.

He passed over a plate, piled high with more food than you could possibly eat, before his own followed to the seat opposite you, and he sunk onto it. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Cutting into the meat on your plate, you could only offer a smile in response, choking back your embarrassment to cater to the hunger growling within you, and focus on your food. 

Several moments passed in silence, nothing but the loud ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall, the scraping of cutlery on the plates, and the occasional rustle to break the tension. Eventually, it was all too much. 

“We should probably talk about… it.”

“By ‘it’, do you mean our deal?” Azriel grinned, smirking a little as he popped another forkful of toast and egg into his mouth, chewing and staring at you, like you were supposed to start this conversation. Putting down your knife and fork, you crossed your arms over the marble countertop in front of you, settling the nerves quelling in your stomach that was almost making you nauseous.

“Look, Azriel. I really appreciate everything. Seriously, I can’t tell you how much it all means to me. You’ve been like some kind of guardian angel, sent to me when I needed you most, before I forced myself to do something I’d never be able to forgive myself for.” The smile slipped from his lips slowly, a more serious look taking over his face, and you rolled back your shoulders, willing yourself to be strong, and taking a deep breath. “However, I’m not the sort of person to take advantage of you, of any of it. So, I’m giving you an out. I know how bargains work in this court now, so surely I can give you a way to undo it.”

He stared for a second, chewing his mouthful slowly, and his gaze upon you seemed to narrow as he swallowed. Then, he took a sip of his tea, still staring at you across the rim of his mug, and your whole body felt electrified. Reaching up, you rubbed slowly across the back of your neck, feeling nothing of the mark that had formed there last night, and making a mental note to look for it later. “I don’t accept.”

“What?”

“I do not accept your out. I don’t want it.”

“You— You have to!” You burst, and he only shrugged, cutting off another piece of toast and dragging it across the juices on the plate, before stuffing it into his mouth. 

“Well, I’m not.” He spoke around his food, and you stared at him helplessly. “Now, eat up. I know you’re hungry, and I can make more if you still want something else after.”

“Azriel,” You started, and he stared pointedly at your food, like this conversation wasn’t going any further until he saw you eat. You’d barely started your meal, and he was halfway through his. With a grunt, you cut off a large chunk of sausage and bacon, shoving it into your mouth less than gracefully, and wiping at the droplet of grease that was making its way down your chin. He only grinned at you.

“I’m not accepting your out, because I don’t regret making that deal. Not even a little bit. I will give you an out of our deal, but only after you let me talk. Will you?” You were still chewing, slightly regretting your passive-aggressive portion, because you could only nod in response. “I don’t regret our deal, because when I woke up this morning, I was happier than I have been in a long, long time. That’s because of you. Do you know what I woke up to this morning?”

You could still only shake your head, wincing as you tried to choke down the mouthful with at least a little decorum.

“I woke up to the sound of your heartbeat. You were lying in my bed, one hand still around me, and my head was on your chest. I lay there for a good fifteen minutes just listening, and feeling, and loving it. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been alone for?” A shot of pain sliced through your chest, aiming straight for your heart and hitting its mark, your gaze softening as you looked at him. “I have not woken up in somebody’s arms like that before. I’ve— nobody ever stays the night. I don’t let them, and they don’t want to. They take what they want, and they go. By the morning, it’s cold and empty all over again. This time, I fell asleep in your arms, and I woke up to you.”

“Az…” Your voice was hoarse, and you ran a hand down the side of your face, stopping to rest trembling fingers over your lips gently, trying to process. 

“I’ve never slept so well either. But, it’s not just about that. Do you have any idea how nice this is? To cook for someone, and get to talk, and know someone else is here? I want this. I want it all.”

“But it would be so unfair to you.” Your words shook, and you reached out, taking one of his hands gently in your own, and smoothing your thumbs across the marred flesh, staring at the movements to avoid the weight of his gaze. “You’d be letting me live in your house, providing everything for me, you’d be changing my life, and—”

“And you’d be changing mine too. You know this.”

“But I can’t give you enough! I can’t make it even.” Sadness welled in your throat, a lump that made it hard to breathe. The selfish part of your mind was beating you for turning down everything you needed as it was handed to you on a silver platter, because your heart was in control right now. 

“You don’t mind my hands?” He said after a few moments of silence, and your motions stilled, eyes snapping up to meet his own. 

“What?”

“My hands. You don’t mind them?” His fingers flexed in your own, and you squeezed a little tighter. 

“Of course not!”

“And what about my wings? My shadows. Do they scare you?” He pressed, and a deep sense of longing, to comfort him, to hold him, rushed through your veins like a drug taking hold.

“Your wings are beautiful, Az. Every part of you is beautiful. From your golden heart to your pretty golden eyes.” His cheeks flushed with a little colour, and you smiled despite yourself, loving that you could dot hat to him. To the infamous and terrifying spymaster of the Night Court. “Your shadows are adorable and playful, and I like them very much.”

“Do I scare you?” His voice was a whisper now, strained like he didn’t want to ask at all but just had to know the answer. 

“No.” You replied, just as small and delicate. 

“Then why can’t you see, that it has to be you? There’s something special about you. I don’t want anyone else. If you don’t want this deal, then I will let you go, without question or pressure. But I don’t want anyone else, I won’t offer it to another.” He held your hand properly now, lacing his fingers with your own and holding tight. “You have no idea how much you’d be giving me by being here, how much I need you already. By staying, you’d be giving me everything, I’d be the one unable to ever repay you. I want it to be you, I want you here with me. Please, stay.” 

You worried your lower lip, your heart beating so hard it almost hurt, and your mind warred with the organ in your chest. You wanted to, you wanted so badly to stay here and be with him. It was surreal and wild and nothing like anybody had ever prepared you for. It was confusing, and different, and so strange. But despite every concern, it felt so right, like somehow, you’d stumbled to exactly where you were supposed to be, with whom you were supposed to be. 

“I have so much… so much to give, and nobody to give it to. Let it be you, please.”

“I think I would like to stay too.” You finally whispered, a shot of adrenaline surging through you as the words slipped free. Happiness followed, an overwhelming burst of it at the smile that Azriel gave you, dropping his forehead to your clasped hands. 

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, I have the easy part here.” You chuckled, taking your hands back to pick up your knife and fork when he finally freed them for you, still beaming as you as he resumed his own breakfast.

“Not true. All I do is let you move into my house, and live with me. It’s no great struggle. You have to…” He trailed off, shrugging a little, and your face flushed with heat, much like his own. 

“I hardly think you’ll be a difficult man to love, Azriel.” Your words were whispered, hanging in the air for only a second between you both as he stared, before you cleared your throat, shattering the moment. “What do I do? What would you like? We should probably talk about that.”

He was silent for a few minutes, contemplating your question, and you resumed your eating, trying to get the spinning whirlwind of your thoughts back under control. You’d seen less chaotic sandstorms in Dawn than this felt.

As you finished your plate, somehow managing to finish off all the food that was there, a proud look passed across Azriel’s face as he watched, pleased with himself, it was clear.

“We do… whatever you want. I’ll follow your guidance, you tell me where your line is. If all you want is to be roommates, then that’s what we will be. I want everything, and anything you want to give.” He finished his food, stacking your plates together with a satisfied nod. “You make the rules, you set the boundaries. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“Should we make another bargain of it?” You pondered aloud, reaching for your lukewarm tea, and your companion was full of simple amusement.

“Don’t ever make a bargain of something where the terms could change, or you’ll never be able to get rid of your promise mark. If I teach you only one thing about the Night Court, I will teach you about deals and promises.” Your hand flew to the back of your neck again, eyes widening.

“They can go?”

“Of course, once a promise is fulfilled, they disappear.”

Your gaze flickered down to his chest, across swatches of strong and taut muscle that was decorated with ink. “You’ve got all those promises currently?”

He sat back, arms stretching a little, and looked down at himself. “Some of them. This one,” He traced his fingers across a splotch of intricate ink just to the right of his heart. “is a promise to my brothers. We all made a promise, to be there for one another no matter what, always. It hasn’t been always, and so the mark remains.”

It made sense, and you looked for more, picking out a blooming pattern across his left shoulder. “What about that one?”

“That is a mark gained by becoming a warrior in the camps. Illyrians wear these tattoos like medals of honour, the more tattoos, the more honour you have. You see how they look ever so slightly different to the promise brands?” He beckoned your clothes, and you rounded the island to observe them with more detail. A shimmer of starlight passed through the promise marks, hardly visible to the naked eye unless you really looked for it. The Illyrian swirls, however, were ink-black and ominous. 

“Will you tell me about the rest someday?”

“Happily.” He whispered, muscles jumping under his skin a little as you raised a hand, not daring to touch him but tracing the air over his skin, looking at the beautiful designs that covered so much of his shoulders, arms and chest. “There’s a lot, though.”

“We have time.” You offered, and he swallowed thickly, only nodding a quiet response. 

“Yes, we do.” Quiet hung between you both again, dragging on, until you finally stepped away from the magnetic pull of his space, putting a healthy amount of distance between you both. Finally, you could meet his eye again, and finally, you could take a lung-filling breath. “We should go to your apartment, and get your things.”

“I can do that.” You waved a hand, and he scoffed, slipping from his stool to deposit the used dishes into the sink to be tended to later. You made a mental note to make sure you got to them before he did, it’s the least you could do after he cooked.

“Let you go back there alone, are you crazy? Not a chance.”

“I’ve been living there for weeks just fine.”

“Don’t remind me.” He grumbled, wiping his palms across the front of his sleep pants, and shaking out his wings. “Wait here, I’ll go get dressed. You can go in that.” 

His words were final, and he disappeared through the kitchen archway into the mass of shadows looking far less sleepily now. You stood no chance of following him through the house without getting entirely lost, and so you only huffed, glancing down at yourself. It would do, you supposed. It wasn’t exactly a classy part of town anyway, and your dress was far worse. 

You contemplated putting your heels back on, having just about found your way to the doorway once again, taking the jacket he’d loaned you last night and shrugging it on, heels in hand as he came back. Just the look of them made your feet ache already, and you decided against it, barefoot it would have to be, even if the thought made you cringe. 

When Azriel reappeared, it was in black skinny jeans that did wonders for his thighs, and a hoodie just as dark to match. He’d tamed the messy bed hair he’d been sporting, and donned a glowing blue siphon across the back of each hand. 

He looked so normal.

“How does that work?”

“How does what work?” He asked, dropping down to begin doing up the laces on his boots, and you felt under-dressed and embarrassed, feelings you were rapidly becoming accustomed to.

“Your hoodie and your wings.” He raised a brow, straightening up as he finished tying his laces. 

“They have slots of my wings that fasten underneath, just like this t-shirt and jacket.” Sliding his hand around your back, you gasped as he slipped his hands through the gaps, calloused fingertips brushing the bare skin of your back for just a second. 

“I get that, I meant, do you have to get them custom made, or is there… y’know, a store. Wings R’ Us.”

He paused, staring at you in pure shock, before bursting out with laughter, and his hand tightened a little on your back, tugging you a fraction of an inch closer to him before he slipped his hand free. 

“What? It’s a valid question!” You mused, but your laughter mixed with his after only a few seconds, his hand retreating to hold your arm instead. You were still laughing as shadows flocked around you, darkness consuming you both, before you were re-emerging on the street outside of your apartment building only a few seconds later.

It was even worse in the daylight, and your laughter fizzled out as you looked up at it. Broken windows, glass covering the sidewalk, dead grass and mysterious puddles all over the pathway. The door was busted in, some windows border up entirely, graffiti and gang signs and burned patches of grass. One patch still had embers flickering. Running down the steps in a disgusting stream was a fresh upchuck of vomit, the tang of it lingering in the air, threatening to turn your stomach. 

“You should stay out here. I won’t be long.”

“What? I can come up with you.” He took a step towards you, and your hand pressed to his chest, fingers spreading, and your head shook softly. 

“It’s fine, you just wait here.” You didn’t want him to see your apartment, the broken window you’d tried to cover yourself that let in the cold, the mould on the walls, the broken furniture and door that didn’t look properly. You weren’t sure you’d survive that humiliation, having seen his house now. Your new residence, you supposed. There was no need for him to see this. 

He didn’t look too happy, gaze moving to the building when voices trickled out from inside, unpleasant curses reaching both of you through the broken windows. “Fine. But, be quick. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“I know you will.” That seemed to satisfy him a little at least, and you didn’t look back at him, not as you weaved up the stairs, being careful to avoid all substances in your bare feet, and slipped through the broken entry.

The stairs were cracked and splintering as you made your way up, you wouldn't miss them even slightly, and as the shock of it all settled into acceptance, a secret smile just for yourself formed. It still felt somewhat selfish to be having what Azriel offered you, you didn’t know what you’d done to deserve it, but it didn’t stop the relief, the overwhelming flood of warmth that filled you, knowing that soon enough, you’d be out of this building for good.

As you slipped through the unlocked door of your squalid apartment, you hoped to never see it again once you left. 

Dragging out the solitary trunk you’d been able to travel with from under the bed, you hauled it up onto the squeaky, stained mattress. Undoing the latch, you flicked it open, dust and dirt forming in the air as you swept your hand through to clear it. Below your feet, shouting started, voices beginning to raise from a couple below who seemed to do nothing but fight through all day and night, and you sighed. You certainly would not miss them. 

Slipping off Azriel’s jacket and laying it across the box, the first thing you did was find some socks, and a real pair of shoes. Finally, with them laced up and secure across your feet, you felt a little more secure with every footstep you took, no longer dodging splintered wood or hurtful shards. 

After brushing your hair and washing your face, you were finally beginning to feel more like yourself again, a small back of rapidly dwindling cosmetics sitting on your broken bed. Below you once again, the fighting got even louder, before something heavy crashed, and the impact of it reverberated up the walls and shook the floorboards under your feet. You paused, the sprinkling of crumbling drywall falling to the floor as the cracks in your walls expanded.

Darkness flashed across the room, exploding out to all corners so quickly you almost missed them. Shadows darted to observe as Azriel spun in place, calculating gaze taking in everything, a dagger in one hand, shoulders squared and braced for a fight. When he deemed the space clear of immediate threat, he turned to you, shocked and shy, mortification creeping in until the edges of your vision was blurry. 

“I heard a crash, and I panicked. What the Hell was— are you okay?” He was on guard again, stalking across the room to loop an arm around your waist, crushing you to his chest, and you gasped a shaky breath. 

“I told you to wait outside!”

“I know, but I was worried!” A tear threatened to break loose from your eye as your body heated from head to toe, humiliation making itself known. “Let me help you pack. The sooner we get you out of here, into a place with a door that actually locks, the sooner you’ll be safe, and I’ll feel much better.”

The words echoed across the front of your mind, and you stepped away from him, emotions overwhelming as he looked at you in confusion. “How did you know about the door not locking? Did you send one of your shadows to spy on me?”

“No! Of course not.” His shoulders slumped a little, and you almost felt guilty for the accusation, his shadows coiling tighter around his body now. “They just told me when we got here, and I think some of them came with you. They kinda’ have a mind of their own sometimes. You asked me to wait, and I respected that, but I thought you might be in danger. This place is…”

Your chest felt hollow, fiery emotions pulling back and leaving you utterly drained, and you looked away from him to wipe at your cheeks and blink back tears. “This place is all I could afford. It’s not much, but it was good to me, for what I needed. I know it’s not great, I wish I’d had a chance to…” You waved a hand around the awful space, a wet and self-deprecating laugh leaving you, “I don’t know. I didn’t want you to see this—”

“I grew up in a dungeon.”

“You what?” The words best out of you on a shocked breath, your upset was temporarily forgotten as you looked up to him, and he grimaced at himself just slightly. Tucking his knife back away safely behind him, he scratched at the back of his head. “I didn’t… that wasn’t the best way to say that. I just wanted you to know I wasn’t judging you. I grew up in a dungeon, literally. The dark and the cold were my only friends. I would have gone crazy for a place like this as a kid, it would have been a luxury. And don’t even get me started on the trainee dorms and cabins at the camps. I don’t think I knew what it was to not live with illness from the damp or cold until Rhys’ mother took me in. I had my first ever hot bath with Cassian on one side of me and Rhys on the other.”

He reached out, taking your hand much like you had done not so long ago at breakfast, and running his thumb reassuringly over your knuckles. It took several deep, steadying breaths before you were back in control of your emotions. “I hope you don’t still bathe like that.”

“Only on special occasions.” He beamed, lifting his other hand to smooth his thumb over your cheek, before letting the both drop back to his sides. “Let me help you pack?”

“Okay.” You headed back to the bedroom, the room that undoubtedly had most of the items in, and he followed. You’d hardly brought anything with you when you travelled, moving fast and light, hoping you’d escape your meaningless life in Dawn only to end up worse here, until last night. “There’s not much to pack…”

“Then we’ll be home in no time.” Home. The word sparked through you like the ember that lit a fire, your smile beyond your control as you nodded. Azriel moved his jacket out of the way of the box, throwing it onto the dirty bedsheets, and rubbing his hands together. “I assume you’re not bringing everything.”

“Definitely not.” You shook your head, staring at the bed you’d been sleeping in, your skin crawling a little. His shoulders sagged with relief. 

“Good, I have guest rooms with all the basics, you can pick any to make your own.” Once again emotions welled within you as you stared at Azriel, who had his hands resting on his hips, glancing around the room, a blue glow cast over it all now. You watched him move, taking in the space, moving towards the wardrobe on the far side of the room and swinging it open. 

You were content just watching him, truly believing he wasn’t judging you now, your heart thumping in your chest as for the first time in your life, you felt supported.

He pulled back from within the wardrobe, clearing his throat and letting an item dangle from his fingers. Your jaw dropped open, everything in your head clearing out as he stared at you with wide eyes. Hanging by lacy straps was one of the items you’d bought in preparation for your new job, a garment that was nothing more than netting and threads, and barely enough to cover you from nipple to thighs. “Uh, how exactly do you put this on?”

You flew across the room, faster than you’d ever moved before, snatching it from him with wide eyes and scrunching it between your hands. There was so little fabric to it that it almost disappeared between your palms as you did so. You turned, shoving it into the corner of your case where you hoped he couldn't see it anymore, practically feeling his breathy laugh wash over you as your nerves fired on ends. 

“No?” You turned back to him, a strangled sound leaving your lips as he lifted out some red mesh, waving the bodice in the air like a flag. “What about this one?”

“Stop!” You coughed, taking it and throwing it over your shoulder, not caring where it went, as mischief shone in his eyes. He didn’t look away from you as he reached in again, clearly enjoying being able to get this reaction, but you weren’t sure you could handle any more. Snatching his hands up into your own, you clutched his much larger ones tightly, pulling them to your chest and scowling up at his gleeful expression. “Stop pulling out… those items!”

“Those items are all that’s in there!”

You could only groan, and he flexed his hands in your tight grip, his knuckles brushing your collarbone lightly, and you gasped, releasing him immediately, unsure your blush could get any worse as his hands fell away from your chest. You sank to sit on the edge of the bed, covering your face in your hands, muffling another distressed groan. 

Azriel took a knee before you, his fingers firmly prying your hands from your face. “Where are your real clothes?”

“In the drawers.” You sighed, waving to the rickety dresser against the far wall, and he nodded. Rising, he opened the top drawer, scooping out your folded clothes carefully and laying them in the trunk on your bed. He returned, opening another drawer, and another. “What are you doing?”

“Where are the rest?” 

“That’s it.” You sighed, his brows raising high as you stood, finally retrieving the red corset from the floor and folding it neatly, before placing that inside too. 

“That’s it?” He echoed, disbelief in his voice, and you only shrugged, pulling the final few items free from the wardrobe. A few more clothes, two more pairs of heels, and a single old coat you’d managed to buy here for a few coppers at a second-hand store.

“I didn’t have much to start with, I had to travel light, only what I could carry. I bought a few sets of clothes, some books, and my savings.” He retrieved said pile of books, holding them carefully and arranging them amongst the clothes, making sure not to look at the items from the wardrobe you’d carefully laid inside. “I was naïve. I thought I’d get her, to the Court of Dreams, and all my dreams would come true. I thought I’d find a job, buy more clothes, and live happily ever after. I was an idiot.”

“Hey,” He muttered, lips pursing, hand resting over your own. “You’re not an idiot. You’re optimistic, and hopeful, and that’s how it should have been. That’s the reputation this place has, it’s not your fault. You’re supposed to come here to find better, I’m sorry you didn’t.”

He spoke with such conviction on behalf of his court you almost felt like you had personally offended him, until he offered you a small smile. 

“After paying the rent for this crappy place and being unable to find any other job, I invested what little of my savings I had left into those stupid clothes.” You rubbed your forehead, feeling a headache coming on if you didn’t leave the stress of this place behind soon. “Luckily, before I ran out of money, I bought some ridiculous little baskets and a throw blanket when I first arrived, to cheer myself up. Stupid decision, really, but they were colourful, and they brightened this place up a little, and made me happy to come back to.”

You wouldn't call this place home, it had never been, and Azriel left to the rest of the cramped space, wings tucked tight. You sealed up the box again, brushing your hands across the top of it now that it held everything you owned, and lifted it to the floor. It was barely any heavier than when you’d first arrived. 

He returned, clutching your two baskets in hand, and he throw-rug rolled up neatly and placed inside of one. They made you smile, the first purchases you’d made upon getting here that were purely for indulgence. “They’re kinda’ tacky, I know, but—”

“I love them.” Azriel left no room for argument on it, his tone final, and you pressed your lips together to hide the size of the grin you wanted to offer. “Is this truly everything?”

“Everything I want to bring.” 

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here.” He jerked his chin, motioning you forward, his arms full but you freed a hand to settle on his arm, and darkness wrapped around you both again to move you through the shadows.

Back to safety and comfort, it was an effort to step away from Azriel’s side, even when you were within the walls of his home once again. Your home now, too.

Putting down the baskets and the blanket, Azriel took the trunk from your hands, motioning to the stairs with his free one. “Let’s get you settled in, huh? Before you decide to back out on me again.”

“Oh, shut it.” Your scowl only made him laugh, following you up the stairs towards the upper level of the house. He took over, guiding you down corridors you vaguely recognised from this morning, and you knew that you’d either have to ask him for a tour or do some serious exploring before you knew this place properly, but you’d have plenty of time for that. 

Azriel had paused before a smaller door, solid wood frame and a panelled white door, closed currently. He tapped his knuckles on the frame, before twisting the knob and letting the door swing open. Inside was spacious, natural light flooded in from all corners, and if you’d thought the wide halls and floor-to-ceiling windows were grand, this was something else. Decorated much like the rest of the house, with simple tones of cream and beige, this room was one of the most beautiful. 

A bed the same size as Azriel’s sat against the far wall, accessible from both sides with no cramping, and delicate gauze curtains fluttered in the breeze. Through one archway was a whole walk-in closet, with endless empty racks and drawers for you to fill, a whole wall designed for shoes. Through the other cracked door, you could see tiles and a tub, an ensuite bathroom for your personal usage, just like Azriel’s room. 

There was a desk, a wall of bookshelves with a few trinkets and half-burned candles on, and a small armchair sitting just beneath them. 

“This is your guest room?” You sputtered, and Azriel only leaned on the doorway as you stepped inside, taking it all in, from the paintings hung on the wall to the ornate faelights.

“Sometimes Mor stays over, she prefers this room. Cassian prefers the other guest room, he says it has a better view of the mountains.”

“Mor?” You echoed, tracing your fingers over the silky bedsheets and biting back a smile, that same feeling that none of this could be real coming rushing back, with force. 

“Morrigan.” The name flashed through you from his stories last night, and your back straightened a little.

“She won’t mind if I use this room, though?”

“Mor hardly stays over, and she never stays the same time as Cassian. She can use the other guest room, you seem to like this one.” His tone got lighter toward the end, and you couldn’t agree more, barely containing your expression of joy.

“I do like this room.” You let go with a dreamy sigh, and Azriel placed your case just inside the door, sinking into the soft carpet. Your gaze moved back to him, from the flicker of a smile on his lips, to the spark in his eyes, to the casual slump of his wings behind himself. Shadows were slipping in around him, exploring this room too and dancing around your legs. Striding back to him, you clasped both of his hands in your own, searching his eyes once more, just to be sure. “Are you certain about this, Azriel?”

“There are very few things I ever say I am absolutely certain of, I am not a man of exaggerations or hyperbole. I value statistics, and realism, and honesty.” Azriel squeezed your hands when your throat bobbed, “But I can say with total confidence that this, that you, are one thing I am sure of.”

“Thank you, Azriel.”

He squeezed once more, before letting go, and standing back from you. “Unpack your things, and then meet me downstairs when you’re done.”

The door clicked shut behind him when he went, leaving you alone for a while to admire your new bedroom. It was bigger than your whole apartment had been, luxurious and ornate and beautiful. 

It didn’t take you long to unpack your things, putting each different item in a different drawer one for shirts, one for pants, one for pyjamas. You hung your coat up on a stray hanger, and placed your few pairs of shoes into the first of the many cubbies lining one whole wall, already picturing how beautiful it would look when it was full. 

Stacking your few books on the bookshelf, you arranged them alongside Morrigan’s half-burned candles, sniffling each one, and approving each time. You re-fluffed the pillows of the armchair, and then the bed, the shadows watching you explore the whole room with excitement. 

Lastly, you toed off your current shoes, setting them neatly by the door, before padding into the ensuite bathroom. 

Pale brown stone tiles lined the floor, white tiles lined the walls, with exposed wooden beams just like the rest of the house, pulling it all together. A few soaps and oils sat along one shelf in the shower, with more stashed in a cupboard that stretched from the floor up to the ceiling. Neatly folded towels filled a rack in the corner, the cotton warm to the touch as it was coated in golden sunlight, with bounced from every mirror and made the room glow. 

Half sunken into the floor, entirely separate from the shower, was a large bathtub, big enough to accommodate anyone with wings even if they spread them out, and when you sat in the empty tub, you could hardly reach the sides with your arms stretched out. 

Your cheeks almost hurt from grinning so much by the time you got control of yourself again, beginning your exploratory mission throughout the house to try and find your way once again. 

It wasn’t as hard this time, the third time you’d made the journey, all of it finally starting to feel a little easier. Even if you did cheat a little, following the floral smell of whatever tea Azriel had busied himself with brewing while he waited. He wasn’t in the kitchen when you found him, though. 

He was in a room you hadn't seen before, the living room, a space somehow even bigger than your bedroom and his. Combined. The fireplace was crackling to life, the quiet pops of logs sounding through the space, and another tray of tea sat out on the table. He was sitting in one of the many armchairs that were designed to accommodate wings, low-backed couches and loungers filling the room, making it look cosy and inviting.

All the books on these shelves were lined up neatly, arranged in groups with ornaments and trinkets splitting them up, the kinds of things you’d never seen before, surely mementoes from his travels all across the continent and beyond. Hanging over the fireplace was a portrait, snow outside the windows and a Solstice tree full of presents, with what seemed to be Azriel’s entire family gathered around, smiling happily. Even the infant heir was present, little Lord Nyx as a baby, sitting on his mother’s lap. 

“Feyre painted it, it was a gift for my birthday last year.”

“When is your birthday?” Your attention moved to Azriel as he stood, smirking and moving to pour a second cup of tea. He told you as he moved, and you stored the information away for later, making sure you’d do something special for it. He asked for your own, information which you happily offered in return for the mug he left on the table for you. 

As you stepped closer to the chair beside his own, you spotted your baskets, sitting in a neat stack beside the fire. Decorative and perfectly imperfect in the space, a disbelieving laugh on your lips. On the back of the couch was your blanket, thrown artistically over the cushions, and a squeak left your lips as you saw them.

It was the final drop, the bit that sent every other emotion overflowing within you until tears of happiness were lining your eyes. Seeing them here, so simple but it meant so much to you, and you raced to him, until your arms circled his middle, face pressing into the centre of his chest. You nuzzled in close, overwhelmed by your emotions, overwhelmed by him, and letting out a shaky sound that was muffled by his hoodie. 

“Is this okay?” You mumbled, twisting to the side, to press your cheek over his heart instead, the same way he’d fallen asleep on you last night, and the stiffness of his body melted away. His arms wrapped around you, so tight you swore he’d never let you go as he hauled you even closer to himself. 

“Yes,” His response was breathy, just as timid as your question had been, but laced with so much emotion it practically lanced right through you. His cheek came down to rest atop your head, kissing your hair before he was hugging you just as desperately as you were him. 

“Y’know, this is really nice,” You sniffed, laughing through the tears that were going to break free any second, and relishing the affection he was giving to you. “I think we’re going to work out just fine.”

“I think so too, sweetheart.”

[doodle-pops]

Cosy Autumn Days — Thingol, Beleg, Gwindor & Gil-Galad

Synopsis: Different activities they enjoy participating in during the fall season with you.

Thingol — Walk Through the Forest and Fall Picnic

He was always one for grand gestures, but today, he opted for something simpler. You found yourself walking through the vibrant forest of Doriath, the towering trees ablaze with fiery reds and golds, the crisp scent of leaves filling the air. The crunch beneath your boots was satisfying, and as you strolled, Thingol would occasionally bend down to pick up an interestingly shaped leaf, his fingers brushing yours as he handed it over, knowing how much you enjoyed collecting them—and your extensive leaf collection. It was peaceful in a way you both rarely experienced, but you knew he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

When you finally reached the picnic spot, the grandeur of the setting couldn’t be ignored. A blanket, laid out beneath a massive oak, seemed to glow with the sunlight filtering through the remaining leaves. Thingol, ever the king, had prepared everything—he gestured toward the spread of food, his silent invitation as diplomatic as ever. You sat together, enjoying the hearty autumn meal, the warmth of the cider, and the way his arm casually wrapped around your waist as if it had always been there.

The conversation was light with no formal speeches or declarations of undying love, just the kind of easy banter that comes with a relationship so deeply rooted. He smiled more in these quiet moments, his voice softer as he teased you about your overly dramatic reaction to a particularly sour apple or how you boasted about making the best pies.

“The last time you gave me an apple pie, my love, I required two glasses of water per bite,” he reminded, earning him a groan followed by a glare.

“Hey! They’re supposed to be sweet because sugar and spice pair well,” you muttered with a sassy roll of your eyes.

Taking the opportunity to rest a crown of berries and leaves on your head, he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Yes, my love. I know this, but ease up on the sugar next time.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting longer shadows, neither of you made any move to leave, as you curled up beside him—his robe acted as your blanket considering his enormity. Upon each your head, a crown of berries and golden leaves rested as a token of his affection.

Beleg — Apple Picking and Leaf Piles

Ever the competitive by nature, and that extended to apple picking. What was supposed to be a relaxed afternoon turned into a game the moment you stepped into the orchard. “Bet I can get more apples than you,” he said, already grabbing the nearest basket. His grin was wide, his hair tousled from the chilled wind, and you could tell he was serious. So naturally, you accepted the challenge.

The two of you raced between the trees, plucking apples with an enthusiasm that had the orchard workers giving you strange looks. And Beleg, with his ridiculous agility, managed to climb halfway up the trees before you’d even filled your basket. He laughed at your exaggerated annoyance, swinging down and handing you a particularly shiny apple as a peace offering. “I’ll share the winnings,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

After a while, you both grew tired and ended up in a nearby field, collapsing into a pile of leaves someone had thoughtfully raked up. Beleg didn’t even hesitate before tossing a handful of leaves in your face, and that led to an all-out leaf fight. 20/10 times he pushed you into the piles each time you attempted to crawl out, turning it into a playfight—guess who didn’t hold back and claimed another victory. It wasn’t dignified, but by the time you both lay back, breathless and laughing, with leaves tangled in your hair, you couldn’t have cared less. The sky above was the colour of a late autumn evening, and Beleg’s laugh, warm and rich, echoed in the crisp air.

Gwindor — Telling Ghost Stories and Autumn Rainfall

The autumn rain came suddenly, as it always did in Nargothrond. Luckily, you were inside, warm and dry, listening to Gwindor recount an old tale. As the fire crackled beside you, casting shadows on the stone walls, and though the rain was soft, it created a steady rhythm against the windows. Gwindor, despite his normally serious nature, had a knack for telling ghost stories. His voice was low, dramatic, drawing you in as he painted vivid images of long-lost souls wandering the woods, their faint cries echoing through the trees.

Eventually, the rain began to let up, but you stayed there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of the moment. Gwindor wasn’t always the easiest to pull away from his brooding thoughts, but here, with the rain and the fire, he seemed lighter—less burdened by the past and more present with you.

At some point, you leaned into him, his warmth against the chill of the room. Instinctively, his arm moved around you and the story faded into the background as the rain picked up, the soothing patter pulling you further into the cosy atmosphere. Gwindor shifted slightly, glancing at you with an amused smile. “I think my story’s not scary enough,” he murmured teasingly.

“Only because I have someone as brave as you around to keep the scariness away,” you laughed, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

Gil-Galad — Farmer’s Market and Picking Out Treats

Your loving King took you to the market, something he rarely had time for during his reign, but today he seemed determined to enjoy it. The stalls were filled with the harvest’s bounty—bright orange pumpkins, baskets of apples, jars of honey, and spices that filled the air with warmth. You wandered together, hand in hand, as Gil-galad pointed out things he thought you’d like. He was surprisingly knowledgeable about the produce, suggesting different types of apples for pies and cider.

“You’ve got a hidden talent for this, haven’t you?” you teased, nudging him.

“Well, I mean, I have to impress you, don’t I? Show off my knowledge to make you fall for me a little more,” he grinned and wiggled his brows, not even trying to deny it. You picked out ingredients together, and by the time you left the market, your arms were full of pumpkins, apples, and a small collection of baked goods.

Back at your home, you set about making cider and treats together, the kitchen filled with the warm scent of cinnamon and apples. Gil-galad, though graceful on the battlefield, was a bit clumsy in the kitchen. At one point, he spilt flour across the counter, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him standing there, covered in a light dusting of white. “Maybe stick to leading armies,” you joked, trying to wipe some of the flour off his chest, but he only grinned and retaliated by flicking more flour at you.

By the time the cider was ready, you were both laughing, the kitchen a mess of spilt spices and chopped apples. But it didn’t matter. You sat together, sipping the hot drink as the last of the autumn sunlight streamed through the window.

Masterlist

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[esthetiqueillusion]

Taste - Messmer x Tarnished (fluffy smut)

Tarnished is a female here. Mostly fluff with a tiny little dose of smut *wink wink*, Tarnished is a little bratty, Messmer as a snek is a little tease.

Two introverts sitting in the tower, working together with noses in books. Cosy and warm. Well, maybe too warm.

Big ornate door to the chamber – up the stairs in a tower behind the throneroom – was closed shut. The chamber where in old times of cruscade Messmer the Impaler and his most trusted Fire Knights held council meetings. Now with the war long subdued but not gone, this room became a cancellaria for ruling Lord, his private chamber. That now was locked firmly behind highly decorated doors. Ghost-servants and knights were knowing well to not disturb their Lord with any trivial matter today.  

But not me.  

All morning I was collecting wild berries from the fields, and with a little help of the cook I baked delicious berry cupcakes. Leaving big portions for the knights that were coming from patrols and duties, I took a few into a basket and grabbed a bottle of wine from the cellar. Being here for so long and moving freely around the castle, I got familliar with every corner of Shadow Keep, so it took me a short time to walk from the kitchens to the throneroom and up the stairs to the private chamber of Messmer. As expected he was surprised by seeing me, but by smile ghosting on his lips and light shining in his eye I could tell he was happy.  

Messmer holed himself here to work on translating the notebook about ancient dragons, topic so interesting that right away he started telling me about fascinating things he discovered.  Eating and laughing, talking and listening – time flew and we never grow tired of each other presence. From the Specimen Storageroom I brought books on the topics that interested me so we could sit and work together.  

And so time flew by, the sun started hiding behind the horizon, darkness slowly enveloping the world. Messmer lit the candles so the shade of evening became cosy and warm.  

However maybe too warm. The fire casted fiery reflections on Messmer’s  red hair as if his locks were pure flame itself, that flew slightly  like lava when he moved even lightly. His face – the aristocratic profile with high cheekbones, straight nose and perfect features was contoured in pure concentration as he read, eye moving actively on the texts. Shapely lips were rosy from wine - bitten from time to time, when he wrote the notes in quil. 

I had some troubles with concentration.  

The hand that with elegant gesture hold  quil, the slim long fingers, veiny forearms... 

- Is something wrong?  

The soft velvety voice all of sudden. Messmer put down the quil and looked at me with a smile hiding in the corner of his lips.  

I felt the heat on my cheeks, embarrased by being caught in admiring him as if he was a work of art.  

- Uhm, no, nothing – I squeaked, licking lips nervously and taking a hold of my book.  

However I felt his gaze, it bore into me like a jet of hot air. The work seemed impossible anymore. I closed the book with too loud slam that startled the snakes and I stood from the table.  

- May I? - I gestured toward his notes and not waiting for invitation went up to him.  

Even while sitting, he was still slightly taller than me standing.  

I tried to concentrate and look through his work, beautiful calligraphed sentences, the graphics of dragons copied from original text... But standing so near, feeling the heat emanating from him was even worse.  

The hand I used to bring papers closer to me, rested on the side of the table, but suddenly I felt Messmer fingers enveloping mine and pulling sligtly so I could turn toward him.  

Looking at him up close like this, seeing the perfect features of his face lighten up by warm candle flames of our work chamber, the shapely lips that  now upturned into a soft smile, the eye that glowed not golden grace but the light of his own fire.  

- I did want to thanketh thee f'r being h're – Messmer said quietly, squeezing my hand, pulling me slightly closer to him so that I was standing almost between his long legs.  

- Oh, sure, I just thought we could work together today, you know, be more productive and motivate each other to do more – I rambled. Stupid, I should get used to his closeness by now. We kissed a few times before. Sure it was short. Sure, it was not in so private places like this right now but still... 

- Nay.  I meanteth: being h're with me, in the Shadow Keep – Messmer cocked his head and still holding me, lift his other hand toward my face. With delicate breeze-like movement he grazed fingers over my cheek and tuced a lock of hair behind my ear – staying with me. 

- W-well.. Thank you for letting me... - I suttered - I still think that’s the best thing ever happened to me in the Lands Between – but I was still shy about having such relationship with a demigod. But truly, it made me really happy to know that not all is lost, that the world can be build anew not with tricks and charm spells but with faith, effort and trust.  

I saw him smile at my words and felt the pull to be closer to him.  

I looked at his lips and unconciously licked mine. His eye shot for a moment there trailing the movement.  

- I can sayeth the same about thee – Messmer said in a low voice, his fingers trailing soft circles around my hand he was holding, ridiculously small comparing to his.  

Not controlling myself I lift my free hand and let my fingers weave into his hair, the colour gleaming like liquid fire. Fingertips brushed the skin of his face and he turned towards them, inching closer, nuzzling into my hand. His long red eyelashes casted such beautiful shades... I felt soft skin of his cheek, slightly parted lips, hot puffs of air he breathed... Looking at me with half-lidded eye, he slowly inched lower and kissed my inner wrist where the pulse beat faster and faster by the minute.  

Couldn’t wait any longer, feeling his soft lips on my skin I leaned into him, toward his face, needing to be closer, to feel this softness once more. He also inched toward me till we were within reach of breath and finally finally we kissed.  

A soft touch, delicate but tingling, buzzing with eletricity.  

Soon the kiss became more bold and raw. I felt hot pulse in my ears, wild beating of my heart. My hands found their way to his broad shoulders, flow through his fiery red hair pulling at them to bing him closer, touched hot skin of his neck, kissing him with rising ferocity.  

His hands firstly were almost hesitant, placed around my waist, however I felt his fingertips twitching - as if he wanted to embrace me tighter,  crush me in his arms and burn with blissfully touch.  

Suddenly I sensed something smooth sliding on my legs and then felt a slight press on the back of my knees. I lost balance and landed on Messmer’s lap, knees on either side of his hips. Breaking the kiss and looking down I saw his snakes drifting innocently near us. That was their doing. Did Messmer not controlled them? 

I arched my brow, looking at him, with a shade of smile in the corners of kiss-swollen lips.  

- Uhm, forgive me... - he said quietly with voice hoarse and dripping with want, with arousing blush on his pale skin and slightly tousled hair, looking everywhere but not me in the eye.  

- Do I look angry? - with hands resting on his chest I felt how wildly his heart was beating – It's a lot more comfy like that – I assured in a whisper, smiling and inching closer.  

Messmer tightened his grip on my waist and pulled me stronger toward him, his snakes coiling and wraping around us, as if they were ropes that binds us together. As if they were Messmer’s unconcious part, demonstrating what he deeply want but didn’t dare acknowledge it even before himself.  

Slowly I kissed corner of his mouth, his jaw, inching towards the neck. It was easy without his armor and helmet, as he was only in light red and golden robes. Soft lips landed on his neck, feeling under skin pulse that beat faster and faster. He smelt like burnt wood and some spice, exotic and dark, with a hint of wild wind and ashes.  

I pressed closer to him feeling his collarbones, shoulders, arms, torso - the steely muscles, skin that felt so hot even through material of his tunic. As I explored, his breathing increased and his hold on me tightened.  Slowly his stiff muscles began to relax. And his fingers started moving around my body - feeling my breasts, so small in his enourmous hands, inching lower and lower around my butt and thighs, clawing and squeezing with skin-bruising power. 

Being manhandled like that, loosen up the tension in my body, making me putty in his hands, ready for him to shape me as he want.  

Soon his hands found their way under my dress, hooking the material and exposing my legs. Long slightly calloused fingers explored softness of my inner thighs for the first time. What started as slow sensual movement, soon changed – his hands became more insistent, greedy, hungry. I moaned into his neck and grinded instincitvely, feeling his heavy breathing near my head, as he responded by grinding his hips up into me, his steely thigh muscles tightening at movement.  

I wanted more.  

His hand under my dress slowly and delicately went up up higher till he felt my folds and building up wetness. Experimentaly moving up and down, circling – I writhed more and more.  

- Messmer... - I whispered between kisses on his neck. 

- Thou art so impatient, my Lady – he murmured in a low velvety voice near my ear, hot air brushing my cheek and red locks tickling  skin.  

And then I bit him.  

He quivered, the hand he kept on my waist tightening even more, dugging his nails into my skin so hard I was sure it drew blood. I licked the bite mark I made on his neck and drunk on his touch, smell, taste, closeness I whispered: 

- Messmer... my Lord... I need more of you, please... 

I felt low rumbling in his chest, as he almost moaned. And then he grabbed my chin and pulled me toward his face, in a glimpse of time I saw lust hooded eyes and red lips bitten by me or himself. He crashed his mouth on mine in a feral kiss, at the same time sliding fingers of his other hand into wetness between my legs, deep beyond my folds, where I wanted him the most.  

I moaned loudly into his lips, the sensation of his long slim finger finally moving inside me pairing with the feral kiss was euphoric. Soon the second finger followed and I kissed him as if possessed. His warmth and tight, crushing-strong embrace, open-mouthed kisses with tongue and teeth made me moaning and grinding on his fingers like a bitch. Too quickly kisses became sloppy, and I broke from his lips.  

- Fuck.. - I mewled closing my eyes, sensing my peak becoming closer and closer.  

Messmer’s fingers never stopped, exploring, scissoring, curling inside,  learning how to play me with utmost mastery. His other hand grabbed my hair but not gently as before in soft brushing movements, this time he pulled hard, the stingy pleasure shot through me as he pulled my head from his neck and directed it so that he could see me fully.  

- Look at me – he commanded hoarsly, fingers between my legs slowed slightly.  

Eyelashes fluttered and I opened my eyes to look into his face pleadingly, with want to continue.  I was so so wet, I was sure I was dripping on this robes.  

- M-mmm... 

- Yes? - he asked looking at me with half-lidded eyes and smug smile.  

- M-Messmer, please...  

- Please, what?  

- M-my Lord... Please, more.. - My voice broken and cracked a little. 

- As mine own Lady Consort wishes - he hummed and smirked obviously pleased and doubled his efforts, part of his hand pressed and circled my clit. I moaned in a low voice starting to feel the tingling feeling in my abdomen. 

- Closeth not thy eyes, seeth who is't gives thee such pleasure – he said in a silky murmuring voice and I obeyed. Looking at him with hooded eyes, flushed cheeks, parted swollen lips - seeing his face so dark with desire, greed and wanting, triumph even, mouth slightly bitten in concentration, hair tousled but still framing his face beautifully with demigod grace. Seeing the marks on his neck I left.  

His hand travelled from my hair to my waist, being so big he easily manhandled me increasing his movements, impaling me on his fingers.  

- Ah! 

That almost sent me on the edge. My head dropped and eyes shut.  

Messmer murmured something, slowing slightly. I knew he wanted to see me fully, to see my reaction, the pleading and want for him in my eyes when he’s giving me pleasure. But I was just a weak tarnished girl, I reacted instincively on the sudden godly bliss kick.  

Then something smooth slided near my head, wrapped itself around my hair and pulled so my head was straight again - my face in moments of highest pleasure in full view for Messmer to see. Now I couldn’t look away.   

Constant movement, my moans and writhing, I fought with want to close my eyes as my peak keep inching closer. I panted and grinded like a whore, his long fingers filling me so perfectly, the look on his face so delicious - bedroom eyes, cheeks like wine so dark, loving and lustful as he wanted to devour me here and now. 

- Yes.. Look at me my Elden Lady... - he murmured wickedly lucious.  

 Soon I almost screamed, fluttering around him and squirting, never breaking the eye contact. He looked so satisfied, so smug  hungrily absorbs the view before him as if he was fighting the need to throw me on the floor and fuck me silly.  

Fingers still moved prologing my peak, till my beathing slowed and oversensitivity became unbearable. I brought my hand to stop the moving of his, and he slowly pulled out his fingers from between my legs. The weird feeling of emptiness was soon forgotten when Messmer lifted his hand toward his lips. I’m sure I was red as scarlet rot, and looked so messy as some victim of the frenzied flame.  

But he hummed pleased, still looking at me with unfaltering desire and want. - Delicious thou art, my Elden Lady – his silky dark voice was delectable.  

Claiming such title was still foregin to me but using it seemed enormously pleasing for him.  

After he licked his fingers clean, I saw a little of my fluid left on his lips. On impulse I leaned down and licked the remains of me from his lips. His grip on my hips tightened momentarily and through half-closed eyes he looked at me like he wanted to eat me here and now.  

Suddenly we heard loud steps at the bottom of the stairs. Someone was going up to our chamber.  

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

I've been writing a big piece for Messmer and Tarnished, where our snek demigod has a chance for a happy ending (for now I have only a few chapters, it's still a work in progress, but I'll probably post it here in the future :). Messmer deserves all the love and hugs ₊˚⊹

[ravenclawboyy]

𝑆𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑊𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐶𝐼𝐺𝐴𝑅𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑆 🍓 ₊˚࿐

‎‏♡‧ ⁺彡𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 💋⋆◞

—

- ✧ The summer sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the little town. The days were long, and the heat was relentless, baking the earth and making the air feel thick and heavy. Johnny Davis found himself wandering through the streets, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, not lit this time. His thoughts kept drifting back to A/N — her laughter, the softness of her touch, and the taste of strawberries still lingering in his memory.

He hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, not since that night in her strawberry garden. Something about that meeting had stayed with him, pulling him back to the edge of town again and again, hoping he might catch a glimpse of her.

Today, he decided to head back to the garden. Maybe it was fate or just a stubborn yearning that had settled in his chest, but he felt like he needed to see her again.

As he approached the small, worn-down house, he saw her. A/N was outside, kneeling in the dirt, her hands carefully tending to the strawberry plants. She was wearing a light blue sundress, her hair tied up in a messy bun, and there was a faint blush of red on her cheeks from the sun. She looked up, sensing his presence, and smiled. That same warm, inviting smile that seemed to light up everything around her.

“Johnny,” she called out, standing up and brushing the dirt off her hands. “I was wondering when you’d come back.”

He grinned, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I guess I couldn’t stay away,” he said with a playful shrug. “You got any more strawberries?”

She laughed, reaching down to pick a particularly ripe one from a nearby plant. “Always,” she replied, holding it out to him. “But this time, you have to earn it.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Oh? And how do I do that?”

A/N eyes sparkled with mischief. “Help me in the garden. These plants don’t take care of themselves, you know.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Alright, deal.”

For the next hour, they worked side by side, pulling weeds, watering the plants, and laughing at each other’s jokes. A/N showed him how to handle the fragile leaves and protect the delicate fruits from the sun’s harsh rays. Johnny pretended to be clueless, but he couldn’t help but admire the way she moved, the way her hands carefully cradled each berry like it was something precious.

As they worked, the sun climbed higher in the sky, and the air grew warmer. Johnny wiped the sweat from his forehead, stealing a glance at A/N, who seemed completely in her element, a soft smile playing on her lips.

After a while, A/N stood up, stretching her arms over her head. “I think that’s enough for today,” she said, a satisfied look on her face. “Come on, let’s take a break.”

They sat down under the shade of a large tree, the branches providing a cool respite from the heat. A/N reached into a small basket she had brought with her and pulled out a handful of fresh strawberries, still warm from the sun.

“Here,” she said, offering one to Johnny. “A reward for all your hard work.”

He took the strawberry from her hand, their fingers brushing for a moment, sending a small jolt through his skin. He bit into the fruit, the sweetness exploding on his tongue, and couldn’t help but smile.

A/N watched him, her expression thoughtful. “Do you know what I like about strawberries?” she asked, her voice soft.

Johnny shook his head. “What’s that?”

“They’re sweet,” she replied, “but also a little wild. Like they don’t belong in a garden, but out in the fields, growing wherever they want.”

Johnny chuckled. “Kind of like you?”

She laughed, a light, carefree sound. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe like you, Johnny Davis, with your cigarettes and leather jacket.”

He felt his heart skip a beat at the way she said his name, soft and lingering, like a secret shared between them.

A/N picked another strawberry, this time holding it up to his lips, a playful challenge in her eyes. “Close your eyes,” she whispered.

Johnny hesitated for a second, then did as she asked. He felt the cool, soft touch of the strawberry against his lips, followed by the warmth of her fingers. He opened his mouth, taking a bite, the juice running down his chin.

He opened his eyes to find her leaning closer, her face inches from his, her breath mingling with his, smelling faintly of strawberries and summer air. He felt a sudden rush of nerves, a feeling he hadn’t felt in years.

“A/N…” he began, but she pressed a finger to his lips, her eyes dancing with something new, something deeper.

“Shhh,” she murmured. “Just… stay here with me.”

She leaned in, and before he could say another word, she kissed him. Her lips were soft and tasted of strawberries, sweet and wild. Johnny felt his heart pounding in his chest, his hands instinctively reaching up to cradle her face, pulling her closer. The world around them seemed to disappear, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves and the distant hum of bees in the garden.

A/N pulled back slightly, her face flushed, her eyes bright and searching his. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thudding of his heartbeat.

Johnny smiled, his fingers still gently tracing her cheek. “Me too,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

She grinned, and in that moment, they both knew that something had changed, something had deepened between them. She picked another strawberry and held it up to his lips again. “Want another?” she teased.

He nodded, leaning in to take a bite, his eyes never leaving hers. “I think I could get used to this,” he said softly.

They stayed there under the tree, sharing strawberries and kisses, the sun warming their skin, the air filled with the scent of fruit and the promise of something more. For now, it was just them, a man with a cigarette and a girl with a garden, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

End..

tags : @zablife / @xxanaduwrites / @tickettride / @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler / @pacifymebby / @iridescentprose / @mayfieldss / @garbinge / @drabbles-mc / @narcolini

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Back to my pokemon brainrot I go

Whb Pokémon AU

In this universe, pokémon exist in Heaven and Hell as a seperate set of species from angels and devils. The angels and devils have no magical power, since God gave it all to the pokémon.

Every country in Hell is the perfect environment for some types of pokémon.

Gehenna is great for Normal, Fighting, Rock and Ground types. The people of Gehenna tend to specialise in pokémon fighting especially doubles and they prefere hyper offensive types of play.

Tartaros is great for Steel, Psychic, Electric and Ice types. People from Tartaros prefere to participate in contests and it is usual for the Contests devision of the Pokémon Olympics to be won by Tartaros. The lead is usually Eligos with Mawile.

Hades is great for Ghost and Water types. There are also Ultra Beasts that are tamed and used in battle by the people of Hades. They specialise in pokémon research and they tend to be the scientists and professors that write the pokédex entries.

Avisos is great for Poison, Grass and Bug types. It's where you can find the most diverse cuisines. The best poképuffs and berries can be found in Avisos and they specialise in this field.

Paradise Lost has a lot of Fairy and Flying types, but they also have a lot of Dragon types, some of the last. Paradise Lost is the healing and daycare center of the world, where baby pokemon thrive.

Everyone in Paradise Lost has a main team which they use for serious battles, a friend team which consists of the pokémon they have most befriended and wish not to suffer and a baby pokémon team which they train to become stronger and eventually release for biodiversity reasons.

Gamigin is the protector of the Golden Heart of Ho-Oh which can revive pokémon and fulfil wishes. He was also the caretaker of Xerneas before Lucifer fell. Then, Xerneas found a worthy trainer and chose Lucifer to be its master.

Lucifer didn't use pokémon before he fell because he thought himself stronger than any pokémon. But he changed his mind when Gamigin, the main conservationist of Hell, showed him the power of symbiosis between devils and pokémon.

God is Arceus in this and after they created Dialga, Palkia and Giratina, they made the angels... specificly Lucifer. Giratina and Lucifer became friends and started a fallen from grace club.

This is it for now, I'll add more stuff when I come up with it

[your-local-simp-writers]

Star-Crossed Serenity

Word Count: 1024

Warnings: None

Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Under the golden afternoon sun, the gardens of the twisted wonderland were a sight to behold. Malleus Draconia, with his imposing figure and regal demeanor, had prepared a surprise for you. As you walked hand in hand, the path opened up to a secluded spot where a picnic was laid out under the shade of a grand, ancient tree.  

“You’ve outdone yourself, Malleus,” you said, admiring the spread of delectable treats and the soft blanket laid upon the lush grass.  

“It is but a simple gesture,” Malleus replied, his emerald eyes softening. “I wanted to share a moment of tranquility with you, away from the chaos of our daily duties.” 

As you both settled down, the world seemed to stand still. The gentle breeze carried the fragrance of blooming flowers, and the only sound was the cheerful chirping of birds. Malleus watched you with a fondness that made your heart flutter, and you knew that this moment would be etched in your memory forever. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the verdant fields of Twisted Wonderland, Malleus Draconia and you found yourselves in a secluded glade, perfect for the intimate picnic he had planned. The grandeur of the Dragon King was evident in every detail, from the fine china plates to the crystal goblets, all laid out on an embroidered cloth that shimmered with threads of silver and gold.

Malleus watched you with an intensity that belied his usual stoic demeanor. “I have longed for this,” he confessed, his voice a deep timbre that resonated with the quiet power of thunder far off. “To be away from prying eyes, to share a moment of simplicity with you.”

You smiled, reaching for a delicate pastry, its flaky layers filled with sweet cream and berries. “And I appreciate every effort you’ve made,” you replied. “It’s not every day that one gets to enjoy such a feast with the heir of the Draconia line.”

He chuckled, a sound as rare as the blooming of the night-blooming cereus, and it warmed you more than the setting sun. “My title means little in the face of your company,” he said. “Here, I am simply Malleus, and you are the one who has captivated my heart.”

The conversation flowed as easily as the wine from the bottle, tales of your respective worlds intertwining like the vines that grew around the ancient tree under which you dined. Malleus was particularly taken with your descriptions of the human realm, his eyes alight with wonder and a touch of wistfulness.

“As much as I yearn to see your world with my own eyes,” he mused, “I fear what my presence would bring upon it. My power is not always… well-received.”

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand over his. “Perhaps one day, we can venture there together. With care, and perhaps a bit of your magic, I believe we could make it work.”

The promise hung in the air between you, as tangible as the magic that Malleus wielded with such ease. It was a promise of future adventures, of shared dreams, and of a bond that transcended realms.

As night fell and the first stars appeared, you lay back on the blanket, Malleus by your side. The constellations above were unfamiliar, yet beautiful in their strangeness. “Tell me about the stars in your world,” Malleus requested, his head turned towards you, his expression open and earnest.

And so you spoke, of constellations and myths, of navigators and explorers who used the stars to find their way. Malleus listened to every word, his hand finding yours, fingers entwining. In that moment, under the celestial tapestry of an otherworldly sky, two hearts from different worlds beat as one.

The night deepened, and the air grew cooler, but the warmth between you and Malleus remained undiminished. Wrapped in a shared blanket, you continued to gaze at the stars, each one a silent witness to the evening’s tender moments.

Malleus’s voice broke the comfortable silence. “In the Draconia-bloodline, there is a legend,” he began, his tone taking on the cadence of a well-told tale, “of two stars, separated by the vast expanse of the sky, yet bound by an invisible thread of fate.”

You turned to him, intrigued. “And what became of them?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“They yearned for each other, across the distance, their light a testament to their longing,” he continued, his hand squeezing yours gently. “Until one day, the thread pulled them together, and they collided in a brilliant display of light and energy, creating a new star, one that outshone all others.”

The metaphor wasn’t lost on you, and you felt a flutter in your chest. “Is that what we are?” you mused. “Two stars drawn together?”

Malleus’s eyes met yours, and in them, you saw the reflection of countless stars. “Perhaps,” he said, “or perhaps we are the creators of a new legend, one that speaks of a dragon and a human, and the love that transcends worlds.”

The conversation shifted then, to dreams and aspirations. Malleus spoke of his hopes for the future, not as a king, but as a man who wished to see the world—not with power and conquest, but with wonder and companionship.

“And you,” he said, turning the focus to you. “What dreams do you harbor within your heart?”

You shared your own visions of the future, some grand, some humble, but all of them painted with the brush of possibility. As you spoke, Malleus listened, his expression one of genuine interest and affection.

The picnic had long since ended, but the connection between you had only grown stronger. As the first light of dawn began to creep across the sky, you and Malleus rose, packing away the remnants of the evening.

“This night may end,” Malleus said as he took your hand, “but our story is far from over. With each new day, we shall write another chapter.”

And with the promise of countless tomorrows stretching out before you, you stepped forward into the light of a new day, the Dragon King by your side.

[dk-thrive]

Something told the wild geese it was time to go

Something told the wild geese It was time to go, Though the fields lay golden Something whispered, "snow." Leaves were green and stirring, Berries, luster-glossed, But beneath warm feathers Something cautioned, "frost." All the sagging orchards Steamed with amber spice, But each wild breast stiffened At remembered ice. Something told the wild geese It was time to fly, Summer sun was on their wings, Winter in their cry.

— Rachel Field, "Something Told The Wild Geese It was Time to Go" in "Branches Green" (Houghton Mifflin, 1934). (via Make Believe Boutique)

[dweemeister]

Whenever you feel alone, just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you. And so will I.

Born to a turbulent family on a Mississippi farm, James Earl Jones passed away today. He was ninety-three years old. Abandoned by his parents as a child and raised by a racist grandmother (although he later reconciled with his actor father and performed alongside him as an adult), the trauma of his childhood developed into a stutter that followed him through his primary school years – sometimes, his stutter was so debilitating, he could not speak at all. In high school, Jones found in an English teacher someone who found in him a talent for written expression, and encouraged him to write and recite poetry in class. He overcame his stutter by graduation, although the effects of it carried over for the remainder of his life.

Jones' most accomplished roles may have been on the Broadway stage, where he won three Tonys (twice winning Best Actor in a Play for originating the lead roles in 1969's The Great White Hope by Howard Sackler and 1987's Fences by August Wilson) and was considered one of the best Shakespearean actors of his time.

But his contributions to cinema left an impact on audiences, too. Jones received an Honorary Academy Award alongside makeup artist Dick Smith (1972's The Godfather, 1984's Amadeus) in 2011. From the end of Hollywood's Golden Age to the dawn of the summer Hollywood blockbuster in the 1970s to the present, Jones' presence – and his basso profundo voice – could scarcely be ignored. Though he could not sing like Paul Robeson nor had the looks of Sidney Poitier, his presence and command put him in league of both of his acting predecessors.

Ten of the films James Earl Jones appeared in, whether in-person or voice acting, follow (left-right, descending):

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) – directed by Stanley Kubrick; also starring Peter Sellers, George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, Keenan Wynn, and Slim Pickens

The Great White Hope (1970) – directed by Martin Ritt; also starring Jane Alexander, Chester Morris, Hal Holbrook Beah Richards, and Moses Gunn

Star Wars saga (1977-2019; A New Hope pictured) – multiple directors, as the voice of Darth Vader, also starring Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Peter Cushing, Alec Guinness, Billy Dee Williams, Anthony Daniels, David Prowse, Kenny Baker, Peter Mayhew, and Frank Oz

Claudine (1974) – directed by John Berry; also starring Diahann Carroll, Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs, and Tamu Blackwell

Conan the Barbarian (1982) – directed by John Milius; also starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sandahl Bergman, Ben Davidson, Cassandra Gaviola, Gerry Lopez, Mako, Valerie Quennessen, William Smith, and Max von Sydow

Coming to America series (1988 and 2021; original pictured) – multiple directors; also starring Eddie Murphy, Arsenio Hall, John Amos, Madge Sinclair, Shari Headley, Jermaine Fowler, Leslie Jones, Tracy Morgan, and KiKi Layne

The Hunt for Red October (1990) – directed by John McTiernan; also starring Sean Connery, Alec Baldwin, Scott Glenn, and Sam Neill

The Sandlot (1993) – directed by David Mickey Evans; also staring Tom Guiry, Mike Vitar, Patrick Renna, Chauncey Leopardi, Marty York, Brandon Adams, Grant Gelt, Shane Obedzinski, Victor DiMattia, Denis Leary, and Karen Allen

The Lion King (1994) – directed by Roger Allers and Rob Minkoff, as the voice of Mufasa; also starring Jonathan Taylor Thomas, Matthew Broderick, Jeremy Irons, Moira Kelly, Niketa Calame, Ernie Sabella, Nathan Lane, and Robert Guillaume, Rowan Atkinson, Whoopi Goldberg, Cheech Marin, Jim Cummings, and Madge Sinclair

Field of Dreams (1989) – directed by Phil Alden Robinson; also starring Kevin Costner, Amy Madigan, Ray Liotta, and Burt Lancaster