#like the white palace is gorgeous

[candescentkpop]

Shake your head to the rhythm

Ateez: Bouncy (K-Hot Chilli Peppers)

Ateez Part 106 / ∞

[abstract-venus]

Netflix had to nerf dead boy detectives because they knew once we got a show full of characters with real personality and a diverse cast that we’d all stop giving a crap about the bland sour cream bitches they keep trying to throw at us and act like we should care about just cuz they’re somewhat in the vicinity of conventionally attractive.

[daycourtofficial]

It’s all in my head but I want nonfiction

Pairing: Lucien x reader | WC: 3.7k | warnings: suggestive language, groping

Summary: emboldened by an accidental love potion, you speak your crush on the Day Court heir to him

Author’s note: happy (late) birthday @tsunami-of-tears no one loves a love potion as much as we do 🫶🏻 lowkey hate this ending but whatever it is what it is ❣️

The Day Court Palace was, in your opinion, the prettiest place in all of Prythian. Large archways led the way to wide open rooms, beautiful columns stretching towards the mural painted ceilings. Every room had a skylight, even rooms with floors above them. Moving through the rooms felt like you were on a cloud traveling through the sky, a chariot pulling the sun through its cycle.

Everything looked so beautiful in the sunlight, and you felt like a reptile lounging in the sun whenever you were in the heir’s proximity. You had hardly spoken to him - he was your High Lord’s son and you were just a librarian in the ‘botany and related subjects’ library, however you had seen him on the rare occasions you had been in the palace, and more recently, whenever the redheaded heir made his presence known with his barking laughter through the shelves.

How you dreamed of making him laugh.

As if the Mother were listening directly to your thoughts as you shelved books away, you turned to find him standing next to you, the suddenness of his presence causing you to almost fall from your ladder. His hands shot out, one steadying the ladder, the other steadying your back. You weren’t sure if the heat on your cheeks was from being startled or from the heat on his hands.

Once he deemed you steady, he held out a hand for you, helping you down the ladder. You moved down it before you stepped off the last rung, face looking down to help stabilize your footing.

You looked up, finding you were much closer than you intended to be, your body a few inches from his body. From afar, he was beautiful, but being this close to him - he was gorgeous. His long red hair looked as if it were glowing, and all you wanted was to reach out and run your fingers through it before braiding it. His canines peaked out from his lips, a small smile on his face. His face was the perfect combination of sharp and soft - making him both stunning, but giving him a kind appearance.

You had watched him slowly get used to Day Court attire, incorporating different aspects over time. He began slowly with wearing more loose, billowy clothing, golden rings on his dark skin. Now he stood before you in a white braided toga that left his legs on full display, golden strapped sandals adorning his feet. Golden cuffs adorned his biceps, making the muscle even more worthy of your gaze.

“Hi, Lucien.” You nodded slightly with your head, the customary greeting in Day for nobility. Helion preferred more subtle ways of respect, once telling you, “I prefer if I’m going to be worshiped to be worshiped properly”. You extended the greeting to Lucien, and to your surprise, he returned the small bow back.

“May I be of any assistance?”

He peered down at you, his russet eye roamed over you, the golden one clicking taking you in. You swore the whirring picked up in speed as it roamed your body, your temperature rising a few degrees at the attention.

“Yes, you may. I actually was wondering about your knowledge on teas. It is a fascinating subject, is it not?”

Your face couldn’t contain your shock at his question. Teas? Why tea?

“Well, I quite enjoy various teas and different court traditions around tea.”

You eyed him, his nonchalant demeanor giving nothing away. The High Lord’s son wanted to talk to you… about tea?

You blinked and suddenly you had spent over half an hour blubbering about what kinds of teas are popular in which court, and you came back to your body to find yourself telling him about the Autumn Court’s tradition of spiking their tea with whiskey.

“Naturally, you might know about that. Not because of the alcohol, surely you don’t have a problem or anything like that, but you’re from Autumn, so surely you know about their traditions and such.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, but you couldn’t stop talking, your mouth incapable of offering you reprieve from how poorly you’ve handled this. “I’m sure you drank a lot of tea in Autumn. Not just the spiked kind, or maybe that’s how you were able to get by all those years - through alcohol.”

Your cheeks were blazing with heat, your bottom lip caught in your teeth, eyes stuck on the floor in hopes it would open a hole in the ground for you to fall through. “Um, my friend- colleague over there needs me. So um, good day, Lucien.”

You bowed quickly to him as you ran past him, not allowing time for him to bid you farewell. You spent the next few hours flitting about the library, recataloging academic texts on botanical reference guides in an attempt to stop your mind from replaying the atrocious conversation you had had with Lucien just hours prior. Each time you remembered it, you lightly hit your head against the shelves.

A few hours of mind numbing work later, your mind still possessed with thoughts of the redhead, you eventually were able to go home, spending most of the evening in your bath reading, any attempt at getting the redhead off your mind failing.

Your mind was just as preoccupied with Lucien as you walked into the library the next morning, taking the final sip of your coffee as you passed by the circulation desk, when a note on the counter piqued your interest. The note sat next to a cup of tea, the drink steaming in invitation. The envelope had your name on it with the royal seal on the back of the envelope. You opened it, careful not to destroy the beautiful seal. Neat handwriting in red ink covered the parchment in a simple note that left your heart fluttering.

After our discussions yesterday, I had some unresolved curiosities. Can you meet me in the courtyard behind your library this afternoon?

- Lucien

Your eyes danced across the note, reading and rereading it to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. He wanted to speak to you again? Despite your terrible attempts at conversation previously, he didn’t find your company appalling enough to talk to someone else in your stead.

You sipped the tea as you read the note - the warmth trailed down your throat, your stomach buzzing as you took in the bergamot flavor. You tried to figure out what tea this could possibly be, perhaps Lucien found a new flavor of tea he wanted you to try.

You smiled, tucking the note into your pocket as you spent the rest of the afternoon floating on the air around you, unbelieving of your luck. As the day went on, your head grew a subsistent ache, worsening by the hour until you were set to leave to meet with Lucien. Your head was pounding beneath the lights, but you wished one of the other librarians, Sara, a good evening, telling her you had a meeting. She giggled as you retreated away, her voice soft through the stacks, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

You rolled your eyes, throwing behind you, “sure, because what wouldn’t you do if Helion asked?”

You laughed at her squeaked response, but continued down the hallways and down the stairs, having to lean against the wall to steady yourself on occasion. You took deep breaths, trying to silence both the dizziness and the butterflies in your stomach. Once you were close enough to smell Lucien, the leather and bergamot scent filling your nose, the pounding in your head lessened with each step closer, instead your body grew warmer and warmer at his proximity.

You stopped at the sight of him, his back to you allowing you a moment to ogle unnoticed. He wore trousers today, slight disappointment at his legs being covered quickly corrected by how plump his ass looked in them.

Your tongue was fat in your mouth, and your thoughts stumbled through your mind in a drunken haze.

“You’re s’pretty.”

The words rolled off your tongue, a drunken slur to them. Were they your thoughts? Did you say them out loud? You couldn’t tell as you approached him, trepidation in your steps. You watched him turn to greet you, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Is that so?”

You were slow to react, your hand just now reached up to cover your mouth as if it could take the words back, your eyes wide as you looked at him. It was then that he took you in, his eyes roaming up and down your body, assessing if he could see anything wrong.

“Is everything alright? You’re swaying.”

Your cheeks heated at his concern, some tiny part of your brain chastising you for being so responsive to the bare minimum. You nodded, your hand still over your mouth. His arms stretched out on both sides of you, hovering around you to catch you.

“S’okay, you just make me feel good.”

Your words came out mumbled through your hands before Lucien gently pulled them from your face.

“Sthanks, I wouldn’t have gotten them off myself.”

Your words were drawn out, each syllable taking its time to be heard. His face grew more concerned, but you paid it no mind.

“You wanted to see me?” You had tried pointing to him and yourself respectively, however your motions were flipped, pointing at yourself and then towards him. You giggled as if you were a schoolgirl speaking to your friends. His sharp canines peaked beneath his top lip, his smile wide but predatory.

He nodded his head, “yes I wanted to speak with you some more, but now I’m-”

His words were cut off as you moved forward, hands producing a tight grip on his jaw. “I like your pointy teeth, they look like they could bite me.”

He smiled as you inspected his mouth, relishing in the squeal of delight you let out when he moved his lower jaw, allowing the tips of his canines to be seen. You tried pulling his lips down even more, but his hands grasped yours, placing them gently on his chest. He held your hands over his heart, looking into your face, his voice soft, “what happened today?”

You got lost in his eyes, getting lost in thought about the prosthetic one. Something in the back of your head kept yelling at you that it sees lies. “Well, I um,” a hiccup sounded from your throat, disrupting your train of thought momentarily. “I woke up, I walked by that coffee shop I like, got a cup to go. Then I continued walking to work - here - and then I got here. Well, not here, here,” you gestured around the room, “but over there,” now you pointed in the direction of the library.

“And then I got your note and I read it lots of times and I even checked the signature because surely you wouldn’t want to be subjected to my rambling again and then I drank the tea you dropped off with it and then I thought about the note while I restocked-”

He shook you lightly, one of his hands cupping your face. The action startled you, not having heard him calling your name. “Sunflower, what was this tea I dropped off?”

Your face lit up, remembering the way it felt going down your throat. “It was so good. You have great taste in tea.” You nuzzled your face into his hand, nodding profusely. “It did make me dizzy, though.”

You couldn’t for the life of you get your eyes to focus on him, the male before you appearing more like an impression of himself. His red hair and golden prosthetic were the only things you could really make out, and even then it was mostly colors.

He studied you for a moment, leaning in closely to examine your face. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

His hands supported your shoulders as you leaned into his chest, the two of you making a slow walk through the streets of Day. If you were in your right mind, you would be absolutely mortified at the way you were snuggling your face into his chest, obscene moans coming from you as you inhaled his scent.

“At least buy me dinner first, I am no common whore.”

Your laugh was delayed as you moved to be directly in front of him, your arms wrapped around his slim waist.

“Y’smell good.” Your words were muffled through his shirt, but the vibrations from his laugh extended to you, making your body shiver.

“I think your moans were more than enough proof of that. I was getting concerned you might get off on my scent alone.”

You giggled, not really understanding what he said, but enjoying the amusement in his voice. “I’ve had my fun, let’s move at a regular pace, shall we?”

You squealed as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. Your hands moved to his trousers, grabbing the fabric to help stabilize you. You pushed your elbows into his back, trying to lean up a bit.

“Where are we going?”

Your hands moved around his back, trying to find stability when your hands sink into the skin of his ass. You giggled as you pinched him, causing his steps to falter briefly.

“Getting a little handsy back there, are you?”

You answered with some giggles and squeezing him, only causing him to laugh again.

Lucien carried you to the outside of the library before winnowing you into the palace. You babbled from behind him as he strolled through the halls. You had given up trying to see your surroundings, leaning your head into the middle of his back. The white and gold marbled floors moved beneath the two of you, Lucien only butting into your rambling occasionally.

He expertly moved the two of you through the hallways, going deeper into the palace than you had ever been before when Lucien pushed open a door, leading the two of you inside. He slid you down from his shoulder, flopping you onto the bed. You landed in a massive bed, swimming in a lake of a deep brown duvet.

You giggled as you bounced across the bed, “Lucien, at least take a female out to dinner before you bed her.”

He stood before you, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I have to go speak with someone, will you stay here? Can I trust you?”

You nodded enthusiastically, bouncing a little in excitement. His hands came down onto your shoulders, causing you to stop your movements. “I won’t be long, I’ll come back with food.”

He ran a hand over your hair before walking away, disappearing through the door. You laid down on the bed, stretching your limbs out as you basked in Lucien’s scent.

Being in his room, surrounded by his scent for the thirty minutes he was gone did something to you, sending you into a state of utter euphoria that caused the rest of the night to go by in an utter blur.

-

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. It was too bright, the sun was too much, your head was killing you. The door opened and you instinctively pulled the duvet up to your shoulders to cover yourself. Lucien’s head popped through the door, carrying a box of some kind with two steaming mugs on top of it. He set them down on the nightstand next to the bed, crawling on top of the duvet covers next to you.

You eyed him curiously, clutching the duvet tighter. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? This is my bed.”

You moved your head around the room, finally realizing that it was not your own. Your eyes moved about the space, taking in how odd it looked. It was an array of colors - the brown duvet, the green curtains, the red tapestry on the wall. Next to the tapestry hung several maps of Prythian, including markers filling certain areas. You moved closer, attempting to crawl off the bed, but your legs got caught in the sheets, causing you to slump back onto the bed.

Lucien laughed, causing your head to throb again.

“Why am I in your bed?”

“Do you not remember?” You shook your head, the action making you dizzy. You opened your eyes just slightly, scowling at the amused look on his face.

“The healer said you had had a love potion. After some questions, we found out one of the other librarians was trying something new with her husband and left the potion to cool. It seems she left it to steep it for too long, and it was less arousing and more drunken.”

You nodded, looking to the floor, feeling so small in his bed. Thank the Mother you weren’t rubbing against Lucien as if you were in heat.

Your eyes widened, remembering how you did rub up against him, clinging to his body the whole night. Lucien’s voice picked up a lilt to it, his amusement growing as last night came back to you in bits and pieces as he spoke.

“I brought you food because you refused to eat last night. I was only able to get a small piece of cake in you. You are quite afraid of being poisoned.”

A brief memory flooded your brain, making you feel even worse.

Lucien stretched his arm out, offering the piece of cake to you. “Will you please eat something? It would make me feel better.”

You shook your head furiously, making yourself slightly dizzy. “You’re trying to- to tie me to you. The food’s been-” a hiccup broke up your words, “poisoned for me to fall madly in love with you and spend my days gazing about your pretty face.”

He raised his hands, glancing around the room before his eyes settled next to him. “Fine, I poisoned it. But this chalice,” he raised a glass, sloshing the liquid around, “is also the antidote to this yummy cake.”

He held a bit of the piece out on his fingers, waving it in front of your face before you took the piece into your mouth, licking his fingers as you did.

Your face heated as you remembered that was how he fed you the rest of the cake. You slipped under the cover even more, hiding your face. “Excuse me, I have to.. die.”

His laugh was loud in the room, and you felt his body weight shift on the bed. “I would prefer if you could die elsewhere other than my bed. I am quite fond of it and I worry you may haunt the room.”

He laughed, poking your side. “Don’t worry, sunflower. You were incredibly endearing all night, even when your hands were a bit.. Adventurous.”

You shot up, the duvet coming off you as you looked at him. “Adventurous how?”

“Well, at one point you insisted you could only sleep if you could be touching my ass.”

You moved to get out of the bed, “that’s it, does this room have a balcony I can fling myself from?”

He reached out, grabbing your wrist stopping you, pulling you back into him.

“Would you really be so dramatic? I didn’t even mention the biting.”

“The biting?” You screamed out before putting a hand up, “no, don’t tell me. I can only find solace in death now.”

“You have quite the powerful bite.”

“Lucien, stop.”

“I have a chunk missing from one of my legs.”

“Lucien.”

He gazed about the room, his finger on his chin as if in contemplation as he leaned back against the headboard. “I suppose it’ll match the prosthetic eye. Perhaps I could have another eye placed there…”

“Is my mortification amusing you?”

“Greatly.”

You slumped back onto the bed, rolling over to hide your face in the duvet. You could hear Lucien nibbling on something before saying, “I am quite flattered at how pretty you find me.”

“I hear Winter’s great this time of year. Perhaps I’ll trek the continent for a beautiful lake to drown myself in.”

“Are you always this dramatic when you wake up? I’d like to be aware for future endeavors.”

You sat up quickly, situating yourself to look at him, your legs tucked beneath you.

“What future endeavors?”

“Well, if I have any luck, this won’t be the last time you slept in my bed.” He bit off another piece of cake, paying no mind to the short-circuiting happening in your brain. “Unless you’d prefer your bed. However, last night you proposed marriage to my bed, so…”

He trailed off, but you were stuck, mind reeling with his words.

“Why would I sleep in your bed?”

“Has no one told you?” He smirked at your quizical look, his tone growing serious as he said, “when two people are attracted to each other-”

His sentence was cut off by the pillow colliding with his face. “That’s not the part I was confused about.”

He cleared his throat, dusting away any crumbs before turning toward you, his gaze focused solely on you as he said, “I thought I made it fairly clear I wanted to speak to you because I found you beautiful and I have always had a thing for librarians.”

You blinked at him. “I thought you were merely interested in tea.”

“I don’t even drink tea. Can’t stand it. You happened to be in the tea section when I found you.”

As if your brain shut down at the information, you just looked at him, brain clearly still foggy from the potion you drank.

“Then why were you-”

You thought towards occasional bits of that discussion, how he had spoken more than you remembered, his words teasing. “Were you flirting with me?”

“That was my intention, however you hardly stopped for breath when discussing tea. I was so caught up, I had to run off to meet with an advisor in the nick of time.”

“Are you flirting with me now?”

“If I were flirting with you, surely you would know. Perhaps I’ll warn you in advance next time, so you can prepare yourself.”

He stared out the window, his eyes bright in the morning sunlight. “May I flirt with you in a moment’s time, or will you merely attempt to curl up and die again? Perhaps you’d prefer official correspondence with my flirtatious intentions?”

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Thanks for reading ❣️

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiiii

Can you make another Alastor x Rarity reader like I love it sm and I need more 😭😭❤️

If you do thank youuuu

I definitely can! My dear @sillyalastor, here will be yours and @nenerobobot’s post for Rarity-reader and Al! I hope you both like our kinda short follow up to the Radio Demon and his Drama Queen!

Alastor- Diamond Trio

Alastor knows how much of a detail-orientated and fussy woman you are, and he knows fashion colours, stitching processes, habits, facts and more on the top of his head. He knows what is considered eggshell white and what is considered ivory white. That’s how much time he spends with you

Alastor has been teaching you some new recipes, ones that get a bit messy. Whilst, you’re very worried about getting food on you and is wearing about five layers of protection each time you cook with him. He finds it cute and cheers you on for you being so precise and careful with the measurements. You’ll stand there for five minutes making sure the water percentage is just perfect and he thrives off that

Alastor is not a fan of you being friends with any of the Overlords except Rosie, so when he finds out, you befriended a fellow fashionista Velvette. He is supportive of your wishes but he is glaring down Velvette and threatening her behind your back to not hurt you or he’ll hurt her. Needless to say… Al’s protective and he doesn’t tolerate any of your friends trying to ruin your spirits or your work

So that means, if anybody rejects your outfit choice and creation you made for them, even politely. Alastor will hunt them down. You’re generous and you should be praised for that generosity. Alastor takes everything you give him, if he doesn’t like it, he’ll merely ask for some additions. He won’t ever demand a new outfit or item

Now. How did you and Alastor meet, you ask? You met him at a grand gala. It mainly consisted of Overlords but a handful of Sinners were invited and you were one of them, brought into this ‘incredible’ party

Alastor had been quite intrigued by you, the moment he saw you. A gorgeous, classy, sophisticated sinner dressed in the most pretty, regal maroon pink dress he has ever seen. You had attended this ‘best night ever’ party in hopes to find your prince, the man of your dreams and when you ran into a prissy but handsome Overlord that screamed prince-like grace, you immediately latched onto him. Unaware that you’re actual prince is the one Overlord all the guests avoided like the plague

Alastor couldn’t bring himself to just ignore the only shining jewel within this boring, prim and proper high-class party. He was so uninterested that he only got entertainment out of talking to his dear friend, Rosie. So after some careful yet quick consideration, he begun to follow you and your… date around the large palace hosting this gala under the cover of shadows. He was curious on what you’d do and the disgust he felt over this Overlord acting so uncharming and so harsh to a sweet lady such as yourself. He doesn’t tolerate women of radiance being disrespected

Alastor is so glad that you finally put your foot down after all the treatment: that ‘Prince’ of a Overlord making you pay for treats, making you give up the cushion seat, taking your rose for himself, making you throw your gorgeous silky-fabric shawl over a puddle so neither of you would slip. No gentleman should treat his lady this way and his blood is boiling in pure disgust at his fellow Overlord. The final straw is when that Overlord used you as a shield to block off the pretty strawberry icing cheesecake that came flying at the pair of you

Alastor watched from the sidelines with much pride and respect, over you talking that Overlord down and proclaiming he is a royal pain but of course, that ‘prince’ only cared about his looks and was scared of you drenched in the cake. Shaking off some of the cake on your dress, hair and face to get it onto the Overlord, out of raw rage. You ended up stomping out of the main big dance ballroom, furious and on the verge of crying. Leaving that ‘date’ of yours behind

Alastor couldn’t stop himself from following you. He was curious how a pretty mid-atlantic accented lady would handle being humiliated and having lashed out against her ‘date’ in front of almost ALL of the guests in the Gala. Your pretty sparkly almost diamond-like eyes poured tears, smudging your nice mascara and light blue eyeshadow as you stomped into the pretty empty gardens and cried out your rage

Oh. Alastor didn’t like seeing somebody so innocent and done no wrong mistreated like this. Even if it was amusing, he doesn’t like it

So, he finally approaches you after a few seconds of watching you vent out your feelings through sobs. His strong sharp crimson red eyes going from your forehead golden crown to the glass plumps to the still damp shawl tied around your shoulders in a classy princess style. You’re the most beautiful guest at this sorry excuse of a Gala. Alastor folds one arm behind his back, his own gala-style black, white and red coloured suit making his red and black colouration pop as he presents you with a rose

“I believe this is yours, my dear” Your glassy eyes turned over to look at him, the almost folded, multi-layers of your dress hugging your curves and hiding your leg movements as it just felt like this night went from the worst to the best. Is this the actual gentleman you’ve always wanted?! Gently reaching out, you’re a bit intimidated by how strong his glare is, how visible his golden yellow fangs are through that wide open grin, with how menacing his long fingers are

Taking the still stemmed rose from Alastor, you didn’t even know his name but you wished you did… you are a bit scared he may be a fake like that awful Overlord you were chasing after just before but he seems friendly enough. Alastor lifts up your hands with his single one, precisely placing the rose into your prettily curled and tied up hair, just above your bangs before speaking once more. His entire presence leaking charm, grace and poise

“Shall we dance?”

You were a bit shy, still drenched in destroyed layered cake batter but Alastor didn’t even chuckle at how ruined your clean, neat look is now. He merely snaps his fingers and like that, all the sweet confectionery remains are gone and all the ruffled, ripped or knotted parts of your dress and hair is smoothed out to perfection, as well as your slightly wet shawl back to being completely dry and your makeup returned to more presentable. Just like how you looked when you entered this Gala and when Alastor first saw you. Taking a deep breath, your cheeks flustered and blushy

You take his hand and with a single tug, you and him are dancing together in the calm, breezy, beautiful gardens of the giant gala palace, no music, no other prissy annoying guests. Just the plants, the animals and you two

Your eyes are no long filled to the brim with tears, anger and heartbreak. You’re now developing a sense of admiration and awe at Alastor being so gentlemanly and sweet with you in seconds flat, he’s treating you the way you wanted that blueblood ass to treat you and it’s making your heart flutter. Twirling slowly in a nice slow steady waltz, the only music ringing is the sound of the nearby birds singing

That night was the best night ever

[recluselecter]

Jealousy

Leto Atreides x Ex-Wife! Reader

pairings: Leto Atreides x Ex-wife! Reader summery: When y/n spends the night of Leto's inauguration party with another man, he can't help dragging her away. warnings: uses she:her pronouns, mother! reader, jealous Leto, possessive Leto, Non-canon compliant, choking, breeding, cunnilingus mention, voyeuristic if you squint REAL hard. Words: 1.7k

Y/n’s hips were guided grotesquely against a stranger's crotch, drunken babbling tumbling from his lips. The wine in her glass had been spilt and emptied long ago, the red liquid having stained her dress. She didn’t care. She kept her eyes on the new Emperor, hair perfectly styled, beard immaculately trimmed, suit crisp and void of Arrakkis’ sand. She hadn’t seen him since they lived there. After Paul gained the title of Emperor for his father, Leto disappeared, taking Paul and their daughter. This was six months ago. As his coffee eyes burned into her skin, she thought of how he’d avoided seeing her as much as possible, passing their child to her through servants. Now though, he couldn’t avoid her. And it was killing him. She looked perfect, the stain on her dress adding to the gorgeous mess that was Y/n.

Leto Atreides hated her for it.

He stormed up to her, snatching her arm and pulling her away from the stranger.

“What the fuck, Leto!” She yelled over the hustle and bustle of the inauguration party. Leto dragged her through the halls of his new palace, opened a door, and shoved her in. When Y/n observed the room around her, she realized it was a very fancy bathroom.

Y/n glared at Leto. The wine on her dress was her fourth glass, and, gauging by the way she was swaying, she was wasted. Leto looked down at her as rage rose in both of their chests.

“You need to go home,” he stated.

“Why do you care what I do?” She snapped.

“I care that my ex-wife is fucked up in a ballroom of a house that isn’t hers.” The Duke took a dangerous step toward her, his own drink spurring him on. “I care that the bitch I’m forced to call the mother of my child is grinding on random men.”

“Oh my god!” She laughed. “I only call you when it’s late, Duke Atreides. You think I give two shits about your jealousy?” Her words struck a nerve in him as she slurred them out. “I only care about you when you’re fucking my brains out.”

He snapped. Leto’s hands slammed against the counter, his body shoving hers against the extravagant sink. She gasped, legs automatically falling open around him. He loomed over her, rage seething through him. His knuckles were white from his grip on the sink, barely holding himself together. He thought the expensive porcelain would crack under his palms as he leaned closer to his ex-wife. With inches between them, he knew she’d try to kiss him. His plan was dependent on it. Like clockwork, she angled her head up, her lips grazing his before his hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her back. She huffed as he scowled at her, but it was turned into a yelp when he forced her to turn around, bending her over the sink by her neck. He tilted his head at her in the mirror where she glared at him. He didn’t break eye contact as he hiked up her skirt, baring her panties to him. The red fabric matched her dress and her now blushing cheeks.

Leto’s hands snaked around her hips, pulling her back against his clothed erection. She hummed lightly as her hips rolled against him, pulling a small groan from his throat. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear as he tore her panties. “You’re a little slut, you know that?” He leaned back again, nearly salivating at the sight of her bare before him. “No better than a cheap whore.” Her cunt was glistening and had Leto resisting the urge to kneel before her and devour her. His mouth watered for the taste of her, having laid between her legs until the hot Arrakkis sun rose in the sky many times. That was long ago, before he was Emperor. Before he divorced her. For a man who prided himself on his independence as Emperor, he knelt quite often for the woman who vexed him. 

She writhed against the sink as he let his fingertips trail lightly around her thighs, avoiding the place she actually wanted him. He pinned her legs to the porcelain, stopping all movement while he teased her. He leaned forward once more, growling in her ear. “You want this?” He let his middle finger enter her just a little, making her cry out in her desperate haze. Y/n nodded vigorously, and for once, Leto complied. He shoved one finger inside her to the knuckle, groaning at how tightly she gripped him. A curse slipped from his tongue, already weak at the knees. Leto Atreides was–and had been for years–wrapped around her finger. Should she ask him to kneel, he would kneel. He desperately hid it from her, but he knew deep inside just how far his devotion went. If she told him to take a knife to the throat, he would enthusiastically if it meant pleasing her.

Leto moved quickly, adding another right before he knew she’d be ready. After decades of bedding her, he knew her body like his own, and her squeak made him twitch in his trousers. He pumped his fingers into her pussy at a cruel pace, too fast to ignore the pleasure, but too slow to get off. She whimpered and cried under him like a pathetic little kitten, palming at his forearms to get him to stop. He bit her neck as he used his free hand to unbuckle his belt. He ripped it from his trousers and unbuttoned the damned pants. Y/n started to protest when his fingers slipped from her wet cunt, but went silent quickly when she looked in the mirror to find him indulging himself, his fingers in his mouth. As he tasted her, he slid his boxers down his hips. She watched hungrily as more of his body was revealed to her. His cock sprung free proudly, and she found herself staring. He grabbed himself, moaning when he slid his hand from the tip to the base, the way she did when she used to pleasure him. His wrist twisted just once before he slid back down to the base, teeth grit as he watched his ex-wife in the mirror. For a moment both were mesmerized by the other. The Emperor found himself admiring her skin and her eyes before he snapped out of it, anger coming back. 

She seemed to have the same epiphany as he lined himself up with her. He slid into her easily, and she tightened around him as he entered. He fell forward, holding himself up over her shaking body. He cussed as he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming himself back in. Y/n cried out under him as he set a brutal pace, one hand slipping to her hip.

“Fuck-!” She whined, pressing her face to the counter to cool it.

“Hands on the mirror, baby.” he gritted out. She obeyed, hands slamming against the mirror and providing more stability to the pair.

A knock hit the door, making Y/n jump. She began to stand up, but Leto shoved her back down by the back of her neck, boot slamming against the door to stop it from opening. “GO THE FUCK AWAY!” He snarled. His hips didn’t stop thrusting relentlessly into her as the intruder spoke through the door.

“Emperor Atreides, you must give your speech!”

Leto ignored him, speeding up. Y/n shrieked, legs shaking as he fucked her. His hand slipped to her thigh, forcing it up on the counter and allowing him deeper. He braced himself over her, moaning into her shoulder.

“Show me how much you missed me, baby.” He grunted. She whined under him, brain not working properly. “Do I need to tell you what you already know?” he demanded breathlessly. Y/n gasped as Leto’s hand buried in her hair, yanking her up against his body with his arm around her throat. The mirror loomed in front of her. Leto studied her tear-stained face, her mascara running as he refused to stop moving. She watched his cock disappear into her weeping pussy, her face bright red. “Look how good you take it.” He groaned, watching as his cock reappeared each time, shining with her arousal. Lewd noises filled the bathroom as he ravaged her, as he claimed her.“You’re mine, remember?” he spoke, his voice low and rough in her ear. “This body is mine. This cunt is mine.” Y/n nodded, hands clinging to his arm. “Other men don’t get the privilege of what is mine.” She gasped as his arm tightened around her throat, just barely choking her. 

“Yours.” She moaned out. Leto fought the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. He groaned as his stomach tensed, his orgasm coming fast. Y/n clung to him as she came, crying out his name.

“That’s it, darling. Come on, let it out.” He grunted, arm moving from her throat to her waist to hold her up when her legs gave out. Her eyes rolled back, brain numb from the wine and his cock. Seeing her stupid made him snap, moaning as he came deep inside her. She whimpered in his arms, shaking. He rode out his high, groaning into her neck until he came down. He let her down slowly, letting her brace herself on the sink before pulling himself out of her.

He didn’t bother tucking himself away, not until he watched his cum seep from her pussy. As it did, he ran his fingers through it, scooping it back into her and shoving his fingers as deep as they’d go. She cried out, oversensitive. Leto hushed her, running his hand over her back and kissing her cheek.

“I know, my love,” He hummed, still fingering his cum back inside her. “But you know the rules.” Y/n nodded, gaining some feeling back in her legs as he slid his fingers from her. He licked each one individually, savoring the taste of the pair mixed together. His tongue slid over his own skin meticulously as he used his other hand to tuck himself away, refastening his belt.

Leto looked for Y/n’s panties, but only found the scrap of what he’d ruined. Shit. They were going to have to do a raincheck on the inauguration speech. Especially with her current state. Leto gently lifted her into his arms after pulling her dress over her. His past lover automatically snuggled into his neck, arms around him. Emperor Atreides smiled as he planned their escape.

[604to647]

Dance for Me

8.4K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: You and your friends go to a strip club for a fun girls’ night where, unbeknownst to you, Detective Rockford is undercover.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please).  Strip club, pole dancing as fitness, soft but also slightly possessive!Tim, slightly possessive!Reader, established relationship, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous), private room shenanigans (Fingering. It's fingering).

A/N: Written for @yopossum’s mootboardsandminifics celebration!  Congrats again on your milestone and thank you for the gorgeous moodboard!  As well, credit must be paid to @inept-the-magnificent for putting Undercover!Tim in our collective minds with this pic – for our story, let’s imagine he looks exactly like this, except he wears his leather jacket over his usual white dress shirt, unbuttoned very low to reveal his black knit undershirt (Halp 🫠🫠).  As always with our The Rockford Portfolio couple, the story can be read alone, but this instalment has a few nods to other stories from the collection (nothing important!); it's also a little longer than usual and has a silly police case subplot - I hope you all still enjoy!

And yes, for those who have read Strawberry Shortcake, this is indeed the same The Midnight Palace 🤭 (you don’t have to read it, it’s just a fun little Easter egg).

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

Tim opens the door to your apartment to the welcomed smell of something savoury and aromatic simmering on the stove.

“I’m home, Shutterbug,” he calls as he toes off his shoes.

“Perfect timing, Detective!  I’m just plating dinner – how was your day?” he hears you busy in the kitchen.

“Not too bad, baby.  Dinner smells gr-” Tim’s voice cuts off when he drops his keys in the key bowl on the foyer table but doesn’t hear the familiar clinking of his keys with yours; he looks down to see the reason: a flyer that’s been thrown into the bowl on top of your keys. 

The Midnight Palace.  What would you be doing with a flyer for a local strip club?  For this particular strip club?

He’s still turning it over and looking at the images of silhouetted body parts bathed in neon pink lighting as he hangs his suit jacket on the back of his dining room chair, sitting just as you come out with two steaming plates of food.

Setting down his dinner, you lean over to plant a sweet, welcome home kiss to Tim’s lips, letting him know with your tender, but lingering brushes against his irresistible pout that you’ve missed him all day.

“Thank you, Shutterbug, dinner looks amazing.”  You beam at Tim’s compliment as you sit.

“How come you have a flyer for The Midnight Palace?” he holds up the flyer he found.

You giggle, “Oh! Do you remember when Mimi had her bachelorette party at that pole dancing class?”

Did he remember? Yeah.  Tim remembers that you came home and sat him on the edge of the bed so you could show him the off-pole moves you had learned in class.  He remembers the way you had arched your chest forward while perched on the chair you placed in front of him and extended your limbs seductively while slowly opening your legs - only to snap them shut at the last second and swivel away from Tim’s lustful gaze, but not before he spied the darkening spot on the front of your panties.  Tim remembers how his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets following the hypnotic sway of your hips as you moved to straddled the chair with your back to him so that you could strip down to your lingerie while throwing him the occasional smirk over your shoulder.  He also remembers how he had taken you on all fours right there on the floor after you teasingly crawled towards him with your tits falling out of your bra and your juicy ass pointed up in the air, wiggling for his attention.

“I remember,” he grins through a mouth full of vegetables.

“Well, Meems has been attending the class semi-regularly ever since – she really likes the workout, says its good for the core,” you gesture cheekily to your own stomach that’s currently rumbling with hunger, “and her instructor works at The Midnight Palace.  Anyways, once a month they have an Amateur Night and the owner lets Sasha invite her students as a way to give them some fun practice in a different setting and to help them build up their confidence.”

Tim nods slower, still chewing as you carry on, “Anyways, Meems is going to do Amateur Night this Saturday and she needs a hype squad, so a bunch of us are going to make a girls night out of it.”

“That sounds nice,” Tim says carefully, he can tell you’re not done and he’s still listening, but the detective part of his brain that never really shuts off is starting to boot up from sleep mode.

“… and she also asked if those of us who were at her bachelorette party might also want to dance… for moral support,” you chew your lower lip, eyeing Tim’s reaction.

“Is that something you want to do, Shutterbug?”

“I don’t know?  It might be fun cause we’re all such good friends and I remember the class being really cool.  And there’s no obligation to strip or anything; Mimi says she’s just going to wear like a bra and some exercise shorts – it’s really about the pole dancing.  I thought I might go to a class or two with her this week to see if I recall any of the moves,” you hesitate, “Would you be okay with that?”

You don’t know what you really mean by asking Tim this question.  First of all, you aren’t asking for his permission and you know Tim would never presume so, likely he would probably be confused (and possibly even upset on your behalf) if you were.  Second, you know for a fact that Tim is the last person to be judgemental about any kind of sex work – you’ve seen firsthand how respectful and protective he is over some of his female informants.  You suppose you just don’t want to make him uncomfortable, even if you can’t articulate why he might feel that way – some type of possessiveness, maybe.

Tim tries to give you a comforting smile; as much as he loves to claim ownership over you when the two of you are in bed, he doesn’t have any desire to exert actual control over you or what you do.  He finds any poor excuse of a man who mistakenly thinks he’s entitled to a say over what women do with their time and bodies to be pathetic as fuck - he’s run into guys like that throughout his entire career and thrown more than his fair share behind bars.  You’re your own woman, one who Tim admires exceedingly, and the last thing he would ever want is for you to hold yourself back on his account, “Baby, you don’t need to worry about me.  If you want to get up on that stage and dance, I’m sure you’ll blow them all away.  And I know you always save the good stuff for me, anyways.”  He winks at you.

You giggle and lean over the table to kiss Tim’s cheek; he’s always so supportive - how did you get so lucky?

“But,” and Tim looks serious, “can I tell you something in confidence, Shutterbug?”

You nod.

“The Midnight Palace has a clean reputation, but… the club showed up in Mr. Pie’s accounting books and we don’t know why or what the connection is.  There could be something fishy going on there.”

Tim reaches into his jacket inside pocket and pulls out his detective’s notebook, flipping through the pages until he finds what he’s looking for and turns the notebook towards you, pointing at something on the open page, “The club name has been entered into the Pie ledgers a handful of times over the last year, always at irregular intervals.  There’s no notation in the books other than this symbol written next to it.”

You look at it: it’s a simple line drawing of a tube with some short diagonal lines drawn across the column.

“We don’t know what it means, but this symbol looks like a joint and it might denote some type of drug activity.  It could be a pick up, a drop off, a contact, a payoff location, a stash house, or who know what else.  Promise me you and your friends will be extra careful, okay?”

You melt at the look of worry on Tim’s face and nod, so touched by his concern, “I’ll be careful, baby.” When his hard lined face softens a little, you cup Tim’s face in your hands, softly scratching his facial scruff so he knows you appreciate how he’s always looking out for you; he leans into your touch, closing his eyes at this affectionate gesture.

“But, can I say something?”

Tim opens his eyes to let you know he’s listening.

“That doesn’t look like a joint.  It looks like a spring roll.”

Tim laughs, “Why would it be a spring roll?”

“I dunno?  Pie?  Spring roll?  Maybe it’s just a food thing,” you giggle.

“Alright, alright.  I’ll look into it,” Tim teases, ��A lot of money in spring rolls, I hear.” 

“Woooooooooooo!!!!”

“Look at you, sexy lady!!!”

“Shake what your mama gave you!!!”

You grin to yourself when you hear your friends’ loud cheers, wolf whistles and hype-up cat calls as you get into position on stage, waiting for your music (“Dance Tonight” by Lucy Pearl) to start.  This past week you had attended Sasha’s pole dancing fitness class on your lunch breaks with Mimi and a few of your other girlfriends and not only found it to be the workout that Mimi claimed, but also just so, so much fun.

The positive, supportive female energy in the class had been uplifting and terribly contagious; by the end of the week, you found yourself not only excited to cheer on your friends and the rest of Sasha’s class at Amateur Night, but giddy with anticipation to get on the stage yourself.  The night held the promise of rowdy, empowering, unabashed fun.

You weren’t disappointed.  Not only was your group of friends in high spirits, all vibrating with enthusiasm and elation, but you were delighted to find that same caring and inclusive female comradery being extended by the women who worked with Sasha at The Midnight Palace.  The entire class was invited to come backstage into the dancers’ area to get ready, get hyped, and get into the mindset – the room buzzed with excited, feminine chatter.  All the house dancers, happy to have a more low-key night, were so encouraging: giving tips, sharing their body glitter and just being overall supportive and kind.  You were sitting in front of Sasha’s dressing table mirror, letting her apply some strawberry scented glitter gel to your cleavage (“It’s a crowd favourite,” she insisted, “trust me.”) when something sitting outside the door of the owner’s office catches your eye.

“What’s that?” you point to the arrangement of three white drawstring sacks, each the size of a garbage bag and looking so full that the contents would be threatening to burst out if not for the tops being drawn taut and tied into double knotted bows. 

“Oh!” Sasha looks over, “Shoot - they’re still there.  I was hoping that creep had come and gone already.”

Creep?  You look at her worried; Sasha catches your expression and smiles reassuringly, “Oh, don’t worry, hunny!  Chet isn’t a patron – you won’t see him out there when you’re on stage.  He’s just some loser that works for a guy that the owner’s brother got in some hot water with, so every so often the owner gets these bags ready and then Chet comes and picks them up.  I wish they would find somewhere else to do the pick up instead of our changing area though, cause that Chet is SUCH a creep.  Always leering at us and saying gross stuff; like, this guy does not understand boundaries AT ALL.  Poor Tiffany.  Her vanity is the closest to the office so he tries to chat her up the most.  Hangs around while she’s trying to get ready and asks her all kinds of inappropriate questions.”

Sasha makes a face and then looks sympathetically at her fellow dancer who does seem to be giving the offending bags a look of disgust. 

“What’s in the bags?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s all our tips!  Like the actual bills that patrons give us.  It’s not a regular thing, but we always know there’s going to be a pick-up in about a week when the owner asks us to start saving our tips.  We give her all the small bills for that week and then after Chet comes, she reimburses us in Benjamins.”  Sasha makes a silly “make it rain” motion with her hands and you laugh along with her.

“That’s a lot of small bills,” you marvel.

“Oh yeah!  Well, all the girls do it, even the cocktail waitresses – and it’s our tips for a whole week so it adds up to be a lot.  Our patrons here are VERY generous – you’ll see, babe!”

You smile gratefully at Sasha and confess that you hope you can do her and the class proud; like a clucking mother hen, she sweetly tells you she has complete confidence in you.  When she catches you looking at the bags again, she interprets your interest as unease, “Don’t worry about Chet, hun.  I didn’t mean to make you anxious – if he hasn’t come by now, he won’t until after midnight.  He avoids the crowds.”

You nod and try to give her a look that expresses relief, but internally, your heart is beating wildly.  In general, you don’t consider yourself to be a very nosey person, but you truly could not help yourself from inquiring when you saw the bags because each of the thick canvas sacks has a simple blackline drawing of a spring roll printed on the outside.  It looks exactly like the picture Tim had shown you from his notebook earlier in the week - this must be the club connection to Mr. Pie that Tim and his fellow detectives were looking for.

Even as you and your friends finish getting ready and go out to your reserved table to down some liquid courage, your mind keeps returning to Tim.  Should you call him?  Should you tell him what you learned?  Sasha said that Chet would be coming after midnight and by both her and Tim’s accounts, the pickups didn’t seem to follow any regular schedule - who knows when the next iteration would be?  You think you should call Tim – this could be important to the case and you can’t let your detective miss his chance for a solve.  You’ll call him right after your dance, you decide with some satisfaction.  Your distracted thoughts of Tim and his case keep your nerves at bay right up to when it’s your turn on stage; not for the first time, you’re grateful for the calming presence of your boyfriend even when he’s not with you.

🎶I wanna dance tonight, I wanna toast tonight, I'll spend my money tonight, I wanna get freaky tonight🎶

You’re still thinking of him when the opening notes of your song ring out and you start to swivel your body seductively to the beat.  Moving with a dancer-like grace towards the pole, you reach out to grab it suggestively the way Sasha taught you before taking off for your first, simple twirl around.  The loud cheers of your friends, the rest of Sasha’s class and the house dancers echo throughout the room and you beam, invigorated.  Hitting each low base beat with your hips, you run your hands up to your hair, mussing it playfully as you walk backwards towards the pole.  When your back hits the cool metal, you trail your hands slowly down your face, neck, then teasingly over your breasts until they get to the sash of your dress – all to the hoots and hollers of the crowd.

🎶Ask if she wants to go, Tonight's gonna be hot for sure, Be dancin' on the floor, Folks trippin' I don't know🎶

Rather than wear a skimpy outfit, you had opted for a simple wrap dress that accentuates your curves – the plan was to undo the front of the dress and let it fall apart to reveal your lingerie, then continue your dance with the dress open.  That didn’t feel too revealing or scandalous, and visually, you thought it would look nice with the fabric of the dress flowing behind you as you swung around the pole.  Sascha had emphasized in class that a lot of pole dancing was about performance. 

As the knot holding your dress together unfurls and your dress starts to fall away from your body, you stalk towards the front of the stage with a bounce in your step timed to the music so that the slinky garment unravels the rest of the way on its own to reveal your matching bright pink lace lingerie underneath.  The screams from the women in the crowd practically shake the walls:

“So fucking hot!!!”

“OOOOOhhhhh baby!!!”

“Show us that assssssssss, yasssssssssss!!!”

God, you love women.  The front portion of the room tonight is nearly all women, full of amateurs like those from Sasha’s class and their cheering friends – every single female voice is in hype mode, loud and proud: cheering on each woman who takes the stage for celebrating her own special brand of femininity, rooting for her to embrace the physicality and power of her body and sexuality, no matter her shape, size, age.  Even you’re surprised by just how comfortable and confident you feel on stage, not at all exposed or vulnerable even though you’re only wearing underwear – that’s the power of women supporting women.  There are some male patrons in the club tonight, but they’re mainly in the back of the room and are wildly outnumbered; the lights shining on the stage are so bright, you can hardly make them out.

🎶Money flyin' everywhere, Champagne, we won't go there, Bottles poppin' in the air, They'll be screamin, "I don't care"🎶

And then, as if your earlier thoughts had conjured him, you see Tim while you’re on the pole doing Sasha’s signature hook spin move that took her two whole days to teach you.  You have to do a double take on your second rotation because you barely recognize him.  For one, his normally soft curls have been pushed back and styled with product you’re sure you’ve never seen on the bathroom counter; for another, the leather jacket that currently hugs his broad shoulders and hangs open on his wide frame is like unlike anything he has hanging in your shared closet.  His white dress shirt you do recognize: one of the many that he wears for work where the crisp cotton wraps tight around his thick tree trunk arms and the buttons down the front valiantly strain trying to contain his hard chest.  Only tonight, those same buttons have been given a reprieve because Tim’s left over half of them undone so that the open neckline reveals a black knit undershirt that you’re also seeing for the first time. 

He looks hot. 

Not that he doesn’t always – Tim is one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever met, and his clean, simple, utilitarian style (plus that gun holster, sigh) has always had an almost primeval hold over you.  But something about this near opposite outfit and his combed back hair, like you’re watching a sexy Bizarro Tim manspread on the nearly too small lounge chair as he sets his dark gaze upon you, is causing your breath to quicken and your pussy to clench around nothing.

What’s he doing here?  Tim certainly didn’t tell you he was coming to The Midnight Palace tonight.  And why is he dressed like that?

You decide it’s no matter as you smirk and shimmy to the upbeat tempo of the music, shrugging your dress off your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground - leaving you on stage in just your bra and panties.  It wasn’t the original plan, but Tim showing up wasn’t in the plan either - now that he’s here, you’re going to give him something to look at.

🎶Look what the cat hauled in, Me and a couple friends, No need to settle down, My body don't know how🎶

---

“Rockford, isn’t that-”

“Close your eyes, Calloway,” growls Tim.  He knows without a doubt that the tone of his voice leaves no room for argument.  Tim realizes he hadn’t thought through this plan.

He wasn’t able to ignore the nagging voice in his head when you told him that you were going to dance at The Midnight Palace; it wasn’t that he was bothered by you going to a strip club or even that you would be dancing on the amateur stage.  If he was completely honest with himself, he did feel a tug of something akin to possessiveness at the idea of other people seeing what he considered his – but his more practical, clear-headed self didn’t have any feelings other than pride in you for having the confidence and skill to get up on that stage.  Tim already knew, intimately, that you have impressive assets, and if you wanted to show them off, he fully supported you.  No - it was the Pie case that ate at him.  That The Midnight Palace was somehow connected to Mr. Pie and Tim didn’t know how was driving him crazy; it made him nervous that you and your friends were going somewhere where some unidentified danger might be lurking.

So, he convinced his long suffering, frequent partner Detective Arnold Calloway to go undercover with him at the club tonight, with a plan to stake it out for any clues or activity that might shed some light on The Midnight Palace’s bearing on their case.

Tim got to the club after you and spends most of his time alternating between scanning the crowd, observing the dark corners of the club for suspicious activity and watching you and your friends at your table next to the stage.  He can’t help but smile when he sees how much fun you’re having – you’re throwing back drinks and throwing down bills onto the stage with aplomb; Tim can hear your bright voice cheering on all the dancers from where he sits.  The way your eyes light up and you gasp in pure delight when a dancer does an impressive pole trick is adorable; your genuine admiration for the women that surround you and the joy you derive just from being with your friends warms his heart.  Even in a strip club, his Shutterbug is so sweet.

He had completely forgotten that you were going to dance until he sees you walk onto the stage and that’s when it hits the brilliant Detective Tim Rockford for the first time that he’s about to sit in a room with his partner and a bunch of strangers, some of whom don’t have the same supportive motives as the women next to the stage, while his girlfriend pole dances in some state of undress.  He really hadn’t thought this through.

Tim glances over and once he’s ascertained that Calloway’s eyes are indeed closed, he goes back to watching you on stage - admiring the elegance with which you move your body to the music and the fluid way you maneuver around the pole.  His breath hitches when your dress falls open to reveal the sexiest lingerie set he’s ever seen – bright fuchsia lace that hugs your curves just right, lifting and accentuating all your softness while simultaneously giving him and everyone in the room hope that you might spill over and grant them all a peek of the heaven that’s underneath.

He might drool a little.

🎶Right there I see you lookin', Sure hope that you're not took and, Don't get lost in the crowd, This place is so damn wild🎶

Tim knows that you see him.  He can actually pinpoint the moment you do because the way your hips pop to the bass beat of the RnB music gets a little bouncier.  The shake of your tits in your lace bra a little jigglier.  He sees the curve of your pretty lips crook into a little smirk - you’re giving him a show. 

🎶Go ahead and floss your ice, Go ahead do what you like, I'm feelin' just as fly, Do your thing it's on tonight🎶

As you dance, alternating using the chair as a prop and doing the periodic spin around the pole, Tim feels hypnotized.  What you’re revealing isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before, nor is it particularly indecent, but something about this environment with its roars of approval and sexual innuendo, air of lust, and the eyes of others that want to see more of you – is making Tim feral.  He keeps his eyes trained on you, as if he could ever look anywhere else, as you kneel on the stage and lower yourself to the floor, crawling towards the applause and screams of your friends. 

He’s definitely drooling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spies a group of smarmy looking guys sitting in front of him who are all tracking you with their whole bodies – pointing at you and yelling to each other about how you were “a good one.”  Their admiring and sometimes raunchy comments about you cause Tim’s nerves to stand on end; when he overhears how you're starring in their wistful fantasies he grips the armrests of his chair so hard he thinks he might rip through the faux leather.

“You think she’ll offer to do lap dances?” the double polo wearing douchebag closest to Tim yells to his equally douchey friends.

Tim is a millisecond from pushing back his chair and dragging this dumb frat boy out of the club by the scruff of his neck when Calloway, eyes still squeezed tight warns, “We’re here to do a job, Rockford.”

Tim’s nostrils flare as he breathes tightly to try and calm down, redirecting his focus to the rhythmic sway of your body on stage as you gear up to do one last spin of the pole - revolving two, three, four times, then sliding to the floor with your knees spread and back arched to point your perfect heaving breasts to the ceiling when the song ends.

🎶I wanna dance tonight, I wanna toast tonight, I'll spend my money tonight, I wanna get freaky tonight🎶

---

With giggling bashfulness, you collect the bills that were thrown onstage during your performance and exit behind the curtain, ready to rejoin your friends and thinking you’ll pretend that you haven’t seen Tim yet just to tease him a little more (though brilliant detective that he is, you’re sure he already knows that you know he’s here).  Exiting through the side door while the stage is being prepared for the next dancer, you emerge still in your underwear (for Tim’s sake, not bothering to put on your dress), when you see Tim surrounded by a gaggle of women offering up lap dances.

It probably wouldn’t have bothered you too much except you see one of the girls put her hand on Tim’s arm and give his muscles a groping feel that he doesn’t look too keen on.  When he politely shakes it off, you see another girl get right up in his face, leaning in close by putting her hands on Tim’s upper thighs.

That’s a bit bold, you think - those hands are placed a bit higher on your boyfriend’s legs than you would prefer.  Judging by the expression on Tim’s face, his preference would be if they weren't on his body at all.  Bearing no ill will or malice towards your fellow amateur dancers, you could pretend what you do next is purely altruistic, but you can’t ignore the slow stir of possessiveness you feel simmering in your stomach.  Gesturing to your friends that you’re heading over in Tim’s direction so they don’t think you got lost, you catch Mimi and your other girlfriends’ looks of amusement when they follow the line of your pointing finger and spot Tim who currently has more than a few pairs of breasts being shaken in his face.

You come up from behind Tim’s chair, purposefully ignoring the girls that are gyrating right in front of him, and place your fingertips on his broad shoulders, pressing down possessively on the supple leather.  Tim stiffens at the initial contact, but softens almost immediately as you start to trail your hands down the front of his leather jacket, recognizing your touch by the way your fingers claw over his hard chest.

As your hands travel lower, claiming ownership over Tim’s chest and the heart contained within, Tim closes his eyes and breathes in your sweet, familiar perfume when he feels your face next to his.  He expects a chaste kiss to the cheek but instead, you dip your head so your nose nudges down past his jaw, breath fanning over where his dress shirt meets his neck.  Hands climbing into the space where the shirt opens, your fingers spread over the black knit tank underneath before you pull him back flush against his chair - the unexpected movement causes Tim to exhale with an “Oomf!”  Keeping him pinned, you lower your puckered lips to the collar of Tim’s white shirt, pressing down firmly so that you leave behind a perfect bright pink lipstick imprint of your pout – marking your man as yours.

Tim doesn’t even notice when the girls that were trying to get his attention scatter, in search of other, more willing laps – never having paid them much mind in the first place; but he does smiles smugly when he sees several of the men from the group in front throwing looks of jealousy his way at the attention you’re giving him.

“Fancy seeing you here, Detective,” you coo so only he can hear, your lips ghosting over the sensitive spot behind Tim’s earlobe.

“Just a coincidence, Shutterbug.  Remember I told you that we had some concerns about this place? Calloway and I thought it was a good night for some undercover work, isn’t that right?”

“Please leave me out of this,” begs Calloway, desperately trying to avert his eyes from his partner’s girlfriend’s half naked body.

You giggle, “Hi Arnie!”  Calloway gives you a wave in response without making eye contact.

“Ok, Mr. Undercover – take me to a private room,” you lace your fingers through Tim’s and pull him up out of his chair; right before you head off with Tim in tow, you call out to Calloway, “Keep your phone handy, Arnie - Tim’s going to text you!”

Still looking anywhere but at you, Calloway looks stricken at the prospect.  Tim’s confused by your declaration as well, but is too busy grinning at the shocked expressions of your other admirers to pay it much attention – in fact, he might make it a point to give your panty-clad ass a firm palming as the two of you walk away.

Once you pull the curtains closed on the private room, you lead Tim to the velvet couches that line the back wall - climbing on top to straddle him once he’s settled.

“Okay, Detective, why are you really here?”

“I told you, baby - just routine police work.”

You grind a little over the crotch of Tim’s pants, eliciting a little groan from the back of his throat and he grips you tighter around the waist.  Stopping yourself from rolling your eyes at Tim’s answer, you put on an exaggerated look of concern, “You didn’t come because of me?  You came here to look at other half naked girls?”  Pressing your breasts together with your arms, you push them up towards Tim’s face and give him a pout.

Detective Tim Rockford is well known for his skills in the interrogation room, but he knows when he’s outmatched, “Ok, Shutterbug.  I admit it.  Just wanted to keep an eye on you – I was worried.  The Midnight Palace doesn’t have a reputation for anything seedy, but I can’t ignore that there’s a connection to Mr. Pie’s organization.  We don’t know what it is, so I can’t help but imagine the worst.”

Smiling down at your sweet detective, you kiss Tim passionately, using your tongue to soothe his worrying heart.  Tim’s rough hands run up and down your bare back and over the lace that covers the plush globes of your ass, lightly kneading and making you moan - his hands feel so good and warm, but you can’t get distracted.  Pushing yourself off from Tim’s solid frame, you beam, “Lucky for you, I do know.”

“Know what, gorgeous?” Tim is leaning forward, trying to chase your lips again, but your next words jolt him out of his lustful haze.

“I know what The Midnight Palace’s connection to Mr. Pie is.”

Tim’s eyes widen as you tell him about the money bags with the small bills, the reluctant cooperation of the club owner trying to pay her brother’s debt, and how the girls are all creeped out by Chet, the pick-up guy.

“Sounds like money laundering, but probably just like a basic first layer – the small bills probably go on to get further cleaned somewhere else,” you muse thoughtfully as you finish up.

Mouth agape and face stunned, Tim can’t quite figure out what to say to express just how impressed and utterly in love he is.  Once again, you think of his work not as something that he does in his time away from you, but as something important to him and you treat it accordingly: listening when he tells you about his cases and using your own smart mind and sharp observation skills to help him.

“You should tell Arnie!  And maybe he can get a private room with Tiffany?  Sasha says that that Chet guy bothers her the most - I bet she would be more than happy to help if it meant getting rid of him,” you point towards Tim’s pocket to indicate he should text Calloway.  Tim does just that, exactly as you had predicted he would before the two of you came into the room.  He also texts a secondary team about possibly needing to set up surveillance and a tail.

When he’s done, Tim looks up to see you standing, cute little mischievous smile lighting up your face, “So, what should we do for the remainder of our private room time, Detective?”

Tim teases you right back, “Dance for me, Shutterbug?”

Shyly, you nod and start moving your body to the beat of the music streaming in from outside the room.  You place your hands on Tim’s thighs and spread his legs wide so you can dance in closer, swiveling your hips as you lower yourself between his knees, rubbing his inner thighs suggestively.  Rising slowly, body still moving in time with the music, you run your hands over your own body – drawing Tim’s darkened eyes to everywhere your delicate fingers graze: up, up the sides of your hips, along the lace trim of your panties, in lazy circles over your soft belly, over the swell of your tits and crossing over one another to lightly push the straps of your bra off your shoulders.

All the while your smooth legs brush up against his, getting dangerously close to Tim’s growing bulge.

Right before the falling straps of your bra start to tug down the lace covering your delectable curves, you spin around abruptly and bend over, putting your luscious ass on display - shaking and bouncing it provocatively in Tim’s face.  Just a few seconds of this tantalizing view has Tim snapping and reaching out with his meaty hands to grab you by your hips, yanking you back into his lap.

You yelp and laugh, throwing your arms around Tim’s neck and tease, “Hey, Detective!”  Pointing to a sign above the curtained entrance, “No touching.”

It’s all in good fun though as you kiss him, open mouthed and eager.

Tim grins back, “Call the cops on me then, Shutterbug,” as his hands roam over every inch of your body, groping and massaging fervently, as if to defy the rule on purpose.  You moan when his lips find that sweet spot on your neck that always makes you lose your mind; Tim sucks and licks while his fingers tug down the lacy cups of your bra to find your nipples already waiting for his touch, pert and pointy.

“Never seen this lingerie before, gorgeous.  Is it new?” Tim murmurs into your neck as he expertly pinches, rolls and tugs at your peaks the way that always gets you panting; you roll your hips over nothing, seeking to sooth the ache that he’s started to build up in your core.

“Mmmmmhmmm - wanted to surprise you when I got home later,” you breathe, eyes closed, your hands messing up Tim’s styled hair - tugging at his curls whenever his efforts cause an electric jolt of pleasure to run through your body.

“Looks good, baby.  And you looked really good on-stage tonight, Shutterbug.”

You tilt Tim’s face to yours with a little pull on his locks and gently press your lips to his, “Thank you, Tim.”  Your eyes are soft and grateful.

The two of you look longingly at one another as Tim’s hands drop to your waist, hands so big that his fingers reach around to your back where he rubs tormenting circles into your skin.

“You look good too, Detective.  I like this look on you,” you coo.

Tim blushes, “Thanks, baby.  It’s just some undercover stuff I’ve had forever.  Not even sure it fits right anymore.”

Not letting Tim get away with this self-effacing comment, you run your hands in an admiring manner over the soft leather of his jacket before raking your hands down his chest; fingers catching on the open V of his dress shirt before sliding under to caress the soft knit of his undershirt, “Fits pretty good from where I am, Detective.”

You kiss down Tim’s neck, past his collar bones and swipe your tongue along the neckline of the black wife beater, mouthing over the material and giving it a little nip with your teeth in between your words:

“Took my breath away when I saw you sitting in the club, baby.”

“Look so fucking hot and like such a bad boy.”

“Thought I was going to soak through my panties on stage and that everyone was going to see how wet I was for you.”

Tim groans at your dirty praise and slips a hand down the front of your lace panties, growling low, “How wet, gorgeous?”

There’s no need to answer - Tim starts to swipe through your folds with his thick fingers and finds you sopping wet and desperate.  He teases you mercilessly – dragging his fingers up and down your seam, paying little to no attention to your throbbing clit; occasionally brushing it only lightly before cruelly ignoring it in favour of dipping his fingers back down to your entrance, every so often even venturing to spread your ample slick down to your other hole.

“Please, Tim,” you whine against his lips.  You feel him grin.

You would say he takes mercy on you, but it hardly feels like mercy when Tim lowers his head to take your breast in his hot mouth just as he plunges two of his fingers deep into your cunt.  The sudden double sensation has you crying out and seeing stars – you chant your detective’s name softly and moan how good he makes you feel while Tim sucks and nibbles on your nipple and continues to saw in and out of your tight hole.  He reaches parts of you so deep and unexplored, even by you, eager to mark and lay claim to a land that will only ever be his.  Fuck, you love him.

Singing it so he knows, your melodic voice drips with lust and devotion.  Tim hums appreciatively against your chest; his response is to switch his worshipping mouth to the other side of your chest and push a third finger into your needy cunt.

The stretch is sharp and delicious - any sting of pain morphs quickly into pleasure; charmed by the way Tim curves his fingers against your tight walls, your pussy leaks shamelessly with fresh of arousal.  You buck a little in his hand, trying to chase the heel of his palm in order to give your poor aching clit some relief.

“Use me, baby – yeah, make yourself come on my fingers,” commands Tim, mouth still full of your soft, perky tits.

Bracing your hands on Tim’s broad shoulders for stability, you grind down, meeting each thrust of Tim’s hand so that his open palm spanks your pussy with a loud, wet slap every time.  The sound is debauched, pornographic, and it makes you gush even more.  When Tim angles his thumb to draw devastating circles on your clit, you nearly sob from near overstimulation, “I’m so close, baby, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come…”

Tim continues the looping of his rough thumb over your slippery nub while dragging his face away from your chest so he can lick up your neck, back to the sweet spot that started it all.  He bites down with a little smirk and grits out with your delicate skin still between his teeth, “Come.”

You let go and fall with a soundless scream, toppling over the edge of ecstasy, but, as always, with a warmth that blossoms in your chest in the knowledge that Tim is there to catch you.  Always right there to coax you through your high with his touch, his words, his love.

After you’ve caught your breath, Tim helps you right the lingerie that he helped christen and put on your dress.  As he’s retying the front sash for you, brows furrowed in concentration (he’s so much more used to undoing the knot), you ask, grin still spacey but eyes a little worried, “Did I do okay, Detective?”

“What do you mean?” Tim looks up to the sound of the trepidation lacing your voice.

“It’s okay that I asked about the bags I saw?  I don’t want to overstep when it comes to your investigation,” you’re chewing your lip adorably and Tim just wants to kiss away every little concern lining your pretty face.  Instead, he finishes adjusting your clothes, then slips his big hands under your dress to pull you close by the back of your thighs.

Tim presses his chin into your soft body and looks up at you adoringly as you card your fingers through his hair, “It’s more than okay, Shutterbug.  You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t take the opportunity to help when you see it.  I’m so lucky to have you help me, baby.”

Taking Tim’s face into your hands and running your thumbs through his facial scruff the way he likes, you lay the deepest, tenderest kiss on his lips – letting Tim lick in slow and sensually into your mouth, claiming your every breath as his own.  Pulling apart only when the little melodic bell that indicates private room times are up starts to chime, Tim gives you more than the necessary bills for the private time as you walk out.  When you tell him it’s too much, he closes your fingers over the cash with his hand, “You earned it, baby.”  You were going to give it all to the house dancers anyways, so you accept without any further fuss.

Before letting you go, Tim glances quickly at his phone while still squeezing your waist, “Calloway’s got Tiffany in a private room now.  I’m going to go join them… hopefully get some more info so we ID this Chet guy.  Will you be okay getting home, Shutterbug?”

You nod and the two of you mouth I love yous, before going your separate ways.  After rejoining your friends, you try not to let your mind wander to what Tim is doing too much as you cheer on the remaining dancers from Sasha’s class and flit the night away with your friends. 

Although you don’t see Tim again for the remainder of your time at The Midnight Palace, you spot his Crown Vic still parked in the lot when you and your friends leave the club.  It rained while you were inside and it must have been a warm summer storm because in the chillier night air, the cars in the lot all have a thick layer of condensation on their windows.  Doing your best to sidestep the fresh rain puddles that glow pink from their reflection of the club’s neon signs – you make it to Tim’s car and write “I love you” across his windshield with your finger, hoping it’ll still be there when he finally gets to leave.

You hardly see Tim for the next few days, which is unusual even for him.  In the wee hours of the morning following your night at The Midnight Palace, you received a picture of Tim’s windshield, your faded finger art still visible with a new word more recently added beneath to now read, I love you more.   

Going to pull an all-nighter, Shutterbug. 

Will try to get some shut eye on the couch in my office. 

Come back to me safe, Detective Rockford.

Nothing could keep me from you, baby.  Love you.

You’re busy the following day and don’t get a chance to visit Tim at the precinct or message him much, never mind badger him about making sure to eat or getting enough rest.

You suspect that he doesn’t do much of either, because you return home around dinner time to find takeout containers left for you on the kitchen counter and a loudly snoring Tim passed out in bed.  He barely stirs when you kiss his temple and wish him sweet dreams.

He’s gone again when you wake up, leaving you a good morning note to let you know that he misses and loves you as much as you do him. 

A busy work day for both of you has you once again missing the other’s calls and relegated to a few text messages here and there.  You’re really starting to miss him.

Finally, fate deigns to realign your and Tim’s schedules after two full days apart; you happily scramble to sit up in your nighttime bath when you hear a soft knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey Shutterbug,” Tim’s smile is soft, his eyes relieved, his entire stance exhausted.

“Hey yourself, Detective.  Long time no see,” you coo, resting your arms and chin on the side of the bathtub and gazing up at your handsome boyfriend, “Come in the water, baby.”

Tim undresses swiftly and slides into the warm water, fragrant and bright pink from the bath bomb you dropped in earlier.  It smells like jasmine and lemongrass, your shampoo and a fourth scent that Tim can never place but just always associates with you.  You sit behind Tim, legs bracketing his hips as you wash his hair and scrub down his body with a pouf.  Wherever it's needed, you try to apply some groan inducing pressure to Tim’s back with your slippery hands in order to work out some of the more stubborn knots - the office couch has not been kind to Detective Rockford’s back.

Despite the lack of sleep, the ache in his muscles, and missing you, Tim can’t help but grin widely – it’s been a hell of a last 48 hours in the Pie Case. 

“You were right, Shutterbug.”

“Hmmmm?” you’ve got your chin hooked over Tim’s shoulders, soaping up his beefy arms and thick chest.

“They were spring rolls.”

Thoroughly amused, you laugh a light musical laugh that sends Tim’s heart soaring, “That little emblem on the bags wasn’t a joint, it was a spring roll?”

Tim nods and then he tells you what he’s been doing for the last two days. 

After revealing their identities to Tiffany in the security of the private room at The Midnight Palace, she had been more than happy to help them take down Chet as you had correctly surmised.

The police easily set up surveillance and a tail that picked up Chet after he came by to grab the spring roll marked bags, which now contained stacks of marked bills that Tiffany helped sneak in.  The surveillance and the marked bills helped the police trace an intricate network of money laundering schemes over the past two days, of which, as you had also theorized, The Midnight Palace, was just an insignificant player.  But being able to pick up the money trail at such an early point of the overall scheme allowed the police to map out and uncover much more intricate and convoluted parts of the laundering network: bank accounts had been tagged and flagged, other local businesses implicated, international banks subpoenaed.  Chet himself had been picked up late this afternoon and sang like a bird.

The work was far from over, but a hell of a lot of progress had been made in the last two days – the whole precinct was riding on a high.  And Tim can’t help but swell with pride that they owed much of it to your keen eye.

You feel your face flush at Tim’s praise.  You don’t know what to say – it seems only natural for something that’s so important to the man you love to be on the forefront of your mind at all times; so instead, you ask a question to which you truly wish to know the answer, “Why a spring roll?”

“Ah ha!” Tim smiles, this was, he had to admit, rather clever, “The smaller bills collected in the Spring Roll bags were earmarked to be deposited at the bank under an account for a fake food court business selling Chinese food.  The bank never questioned it – large volume deposits of small bills for a food court stall seemed perfectly appropriate.”

“That is clever!” you muse, “But not clever enough.”  When Tim tilts his head back you kiss him with affection, proud of your brilliant detective’s mind.

Once satisfied with the state of Tim’s cleanliness, you wrap your arms around Tim’s neck and cheekily nip at his earlobe, “So… for my help, do I get paid in spring rolls?”

Tim hums, his hands finding the dip of your hips under the water, massaging them appreciatively, “We could do that, or you can redeem another prize from the Detectives’ Rewards Incentive Program.”

“Oh really?” you giggle at the inside joke from that first unforgettable night Tim took you to bed and grin into his wet hair - your pussy already throbbing with want.  You press your tits into Tim’s back, “What do I qualify for, Detective?”

“Let me show you,” Tim smirks.  Then before you can register what’s happening, Tim rolls over in the bath, sending bright pink water sloshing over the side of the tub as his hands find and latch onto those soft curves that he’s been dreaming of for the past two nights.  You yelp, squeal, then moan - putty in Detective Rockford’s capable hands as he shows you just how much you’ve been missed.

Audio and visual aids for this fic:

[surielstea]

Strings Attached

Based on this request.

Pairing: Helion x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader has had a crush on Helion for awhile now but feels inadequate when compared to the partners he brings to bed.

Warnings: fluff | Suggestive | Slight angst

3.3k words

The giggling in the room next to mine has me fighting back from hurling my guts out.

Helion was with yet another female tonight— perhaps multiple based on the sound emitting through the walls. Some part of me felt anger, everyone who was interested in the male seemed to get the chance to roll in the sheets with the High Lord while I sat in my room alone, trying to ignore the obnoxious thudding of the headboard against the connecting wall.

I put a sound shield over his room for him, he seemed to forget half the time which left me restless and annoyed.

Finally, at peace with the quiet, I release a soft sigh and my head comes down onto my pillow. The brunette that he led into his room tonight was particularly gorgeous, with long dark locks and beautiful caramel-colored skin. She was from the Summer court, cousin to the Day court. She looked like she'd been bathed in the sun, like not a single cloud had ever settled over her.

I was from the night court.

Born in the hewn city and fleeing the court entirely when Amarantha was defeated after those long years Under the Mountain.

It was noticeable I didn't belong in this court, this palace, the libraries, or the shops. I'd get looks of all sorts from strangers or other court members who thought it best for me to return to where I came from.

Helion made me his second in command after a few years of serving as his emissary. I've been with him for nearly a decade now and my feelings towards the high lord have yet to fizzle away. He's my best friend, yet I couldn't help imagining something more than just being on the sidelines, I wanted to be looked at the way he gazed at potential partners, wanted to be touched, and loved the way the females rave about as they're leaving the palace.

In between thoughts I manage to slip into a gentle sleep, a light slumber that I could easily be startled from. The large bed felt empty like I was drowning in it, like I needed someone next to me to make sure I didn't fall through the mattress.

________

I was standing at my workbench, bright light shining down onto my most recent invention. I peered through my magnifying glass at the inner mechanics, making sure all the gears shifted with each other as they spun. I've been fiddling with the small device for a while now but haven't been able to get it just right. "Let's try this again," I mumble before pressing the button atop the small cube. It makes a quiet beep and my brows shoot up. "Testing," I say into the microphone of the cube.

"You're so smart, starlight." A familiar voice makes me jump and I whirl around to face the High Lord. "You'd make the perfect high lady for this place." He hums and I flush, taking my eyes away from the handsome male and back to my invention. He walks over to me, the warmth of his skin radiating onto me. "What is it?" He tilts his head as he peers over my shoulder.

"A recording device," I say, glancing at him— which I realize was a bad idea because, Cauldron, he was so close. "If it works, we'll be able to start recording audio to put in our libraries for people who can't read,"  I explain and a soft smile curves his full lips.

"Genius." He hums. "It's not finished yet." I wave him off and press the button atop the recording device and set it down.

"Did you need something?" I turned to him fully, he wasn't wearing his crown or any golden jewelry, just glowing dark skin contrasted with his clean white robe. "I can't pester my favorite emissary?" He arches a brow, and my heartbeat quickens.

"I'm your only emissary." I remind him, cleaning up my workspace as he toys with a pair of miniature tweezers, his calloused hands seemingly too large to even hold the tool. "That doesn't mean you can't be my favorite." He mumbles, concentrating on picking up an even smaller screw from the desk with the tweezers.

"Helion," I pluck the tool from his hands and he pouts dramatically at me. "I was only going to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner, but you seem busy." He knocks on the wood as a farewell and takes a few steps away. "Wait," I look to him. "I could eat." I shrug and a wide smile spreads over his sharp features. "Follow me then."

Helion leads me down the halls of the palace, I still marveled at the beauty of this place despite living here for nearly a decade now. The high ceilings held up by large pillars, the floor-to-ceiling windows putting the Court outside on display in a decoration of its own, the crystal clear lake that spreads on the right side of the residence reflects the moonlight right onto the white palace, making it reflect and shimmer like a sun.

"Amilia?" Helion calls as we enter the long dining hall lit by golden chandeliers and tall, skinny candles. "Yes, my lord?" A kitchen maid scuffs into the room with bright green eyes and large voluminous curls. "I have a guest joining me for dinner, we'll need the table set for three." He informs and the maid bows her head with a soft smile. "Right away Lord Helion." She turns on her heel and shuffles towards the kitchen. "Thank you!" The male hums as she disappears behind the swinging doors.

"Three plates?" I ask curiously, coming up to his side. "Not just us?" I say and he looks at me with raised brows. "I have another courtier coming to meet with me from the Dawn court, but I'd be happy to cancel so it's just us." He offers and I shake my head, hair swishing with the movement. "That's alright, I won't disrupt your schedule." I brushed him off, even if a buried part of me felt disappointed. It's been some time since I had some alone time with Helion, he always seemed to be busy as High Lord— or spell cleaver.

I walked over to the table and took up the seat I always sat in, directly beside the head of the table, where Helion planted himself. A maid came over and poured both of us glasses of white wine. I thank her and she nods before skittering away.

The doors to the dining hall open and both Helion and I look up to spot a butler accompanying a gorgeous female clad in lilac and rose-colored robes that draped over her full frame in long sweeping motions. Her deep brown hair was combed up into an intricate style, and the golden bangles at her wrists clanked against each other as she walked in like she owned the place. "Lady Basu." Helion stands with a polite tone. "Please, my lord; call me Imara." She begs of him in a delicate voice. Is she the courtier from Dawn?

"Then you can call me Helion." The Lord gives her a seductive smile. I was going to need more wine.

Dinner was utterly delicious if it weren't for my need to hold back gags every time the two in front of me obnoxiously flirted, I watched as she noticeably stared at him while wrapping her perfect lips around her fork. They weren't even discussing anything pertaining to the courts, perhaps I was blinded by jealousy but what was the point of this female being here if she wasn't going to mention where her court lies with alliances?

"Amilia?" I call the maid, neither of them notice but the female shuffles over to me with an inquisitive expression. "Can I have some more wine?" I ask her. She nods her head and pours the pitcher until my glass is full again. "You know what, I think I'll just take this." I reach for the decanter and her brows raise slightly but she allows me to have the pitcher before I put it down onto the table. Helion looks at me with creased brows but I don't say anything.

"Are you enjoying the food Imara?" The high lord hums. "I've had better things in my mouth." She teased and I nearly choked. "Is that right?" Helion's reply only makes me drink deeper from the goblet, chugging down the rest of the liquid until I'm refilling the glass again.

The flirting grows so insufferable that I have to take a deep breath to control myself from yelling at them to keep it in their pants or take it to the bedroom. So instead I stand up, grabbing my wine glass, my chair loudly scraping against the floor.

"You okay?" Helion looks to me concerned. "Fine, just tired." I brush him off. "I think I might turn in early," I add and he only nods. "Sweet dreams, starlight." He hums. "Good to meet you Imari," I give her a wave. "You as well." She smiles at me even though she's been glaring at me all meal like I was a threat, as if Helion would ever choose me over some drop-dead gorgeous female offering herself so openly to him.

Helion's fingers intertwined with mine and I look at him curiously, his warm hand somehow heating the entirety of my body right down to my very bones. "Get good rest, alright?" He smiles sadly and I get the feeling that he wasn't originally going to say that, that he’s holding back.

"I should be the one telling you that." I joke as I drop his hand but he doesn't laugh, instead, he looks at me with something tender and wanting, that gaze that makes butterflies awaken in my stomach. I ignore it, giving him a nod before spinning on my heel and walking towards the doors, thanking the cooks and maids on my way out without another word.

______

My hangover was pounding into my skull as I stood at the kitchen counter, peeling an orange as my negligent breakfast. Luckily the morning was quiet, the bird’s song flowing in through the open windows, goldfinches perched on the aspen trees outside.

I hum along to the familiar tune with a gentle smile at the tranquility of it, everything going so smoothly until the smell of ginger and honey floats into the room and I know Helion has entered.

"Starlight," He grins widely as he approaches, his hands behind his back like he's hiding something. I narrow my eyes at him skeptically, wondering what it was he kept tucked away from my vision. "How are you so awake?" I sighed with a slow blink. "It's daytime," He looks to the window. "Should I not be awake?" He arches a brow. I shake my head and return to peeling the rind from my fruit.

"Have a good night?" I tilt my head. "Eh," He shrugs and I scoff, a small smile forming on my lips at his dissatisfaction, something like precedence blooming in my chest.

"I have something for you." He bounces slightly on his heels and I look at him unamused, my migraine slowly fizzling away as he gazes at me. "Do you now?" I tilt my head and he nods, pulling his hands from behind his back and revealing a small black box meant for jewelry. "I felt bad last night, you seemed upset so I got you these at the markets this morning." He explains before cracking open the lid of the velvet box and revealing a stunning pair of earrings. A clear sunstone gem framed by gold plates, the stone dangling from a golden clasp.

My brows raised as I looked between him and the expensive gift. "Helion I can't take this," I shake my head. "Sure you can." He urges me. "You can’t just give me things because I'm the slightest bit upset." I sigh, taking the box from him. "Sure I can." He reiterates and a small smile forms over my features. "Thank you," I say, taking the earrings out of their box right then and there before sliding them into my earlobes.

He smiles and tucks my hair behind my pointed ears. The male grins cheekily and I look at him, with stained cheeks. "What?" I cross my arms over my chest. "You're the most beautiful female I've ever seen." He states proudly. I chuckle and tear my gaze away from him, his expression falls. "I'm serious, you are." He nods his head and I only shake my head and continue to peel the tangerine.

"No, I am not." I toss the rind in the trash, trying to ignore the fact that the air in the room has gotten noticeably thicker. "Do you think I'd lie about such things?" He seems genuine which only makes me want to laugh more.

"You lie to me all the time." I shrug and he looks at me like I've gone crazy. "Nonsense, name a time." He commands and I roll my eyes. "Just yesterday you told me I'd make the perfect high lady for the day court." I remind and he twists his lips to the side. "That doesn't sound like me." He shakes his head. I deadpan at him before removing the small invention I've been working on from the pocket of my dress and pressing the button on the bottom.

"Testing," My voice emits from it, louder than planned and all too close to the microphone. "You're so smart starlight," another voice sounds from the speakers of the cube. "You'd make the perfect high lady for this place." It quoted and I glared at him before turning off the invention and putting it back into my pocket. "It works!" He says excitedly and I glare at him.

"Alright fine, so I did say that but still; I didn't lie." He argues and I huff out a grumble of curses. "I'm a truthful male." He drones as I return to picking the spongey white excess along with the fruit of my orange. "No, you're a flirt," I grumble. "Can't I be both?" He shrugs and I shake my head. "No, not if you're telling me I'm the most beautiful girl you've ever seen whilst bedding females ten times prettier than me." I defend and his jaw falls slack, slightly taken aback at my prepared remark. "But they're not prettier than you." He admits and I avoid his gaze that seemed to be analyzing every move I made.

"Stop lying." I grit out and he releases a sigh, his arms coming to either side of my waist, trapping me between his muscular frame and the counter.

"I'm not. You're out of my league." He says breathlessly as if he couldn't believe it. I turn to look at him, my brows pulled tensely. "Then why can't I be one of them?" I utter and he blinks. "One of what?" He asks, his dark brows quirking together. "One of the females you take to bed, if I'm. So beautiful then why haven't you shown it?"

The look on his face was pure shock, his ears perked up at the sound of vulnerability coming from me. I begin to grow embarrassed at what I just confessed.

"Starlight," He sighs, looking down at me with remorseful eyes. "Those partners mean nothing, there's no emotion. I'm simply admiring an art piece, there's no strings attached." He explains and I wait for him to tell me whatever art I am isn't good enough.

"I don't want that with you." He confesses and I swore my heart stopped.

I look up at him with tears welling in my eyes. I wasn't ready to confess and didn't have the confrontation skills to tell him how I truly felt. I swallow thickly and nod. "I understand," I mutter, dipping my head down. His large hand comes up to cup my cheek, tilting my head back and forcing my gaze back to his. "I want the strings attached, with you, is what I mean." He explains and I blink a few times to make sure the make that stands in front of me is real.

"What are you saying?" I need clarification, what does that make us, what can I bear to him without showing my soul in its entirety?

"I'm saying that I want you, for a lot longer than just a night." His hand slips from my cheek to curl around the back of my neck, his thumb stroking along my jaw. "Helion," I warn and his eyes are soft, this is real, he wants this as much as I do. "I know it's unprofessional but—" He begins to argue and I lunge upward, slinging my arms over his shoulders and planting my lips onto his.

He stumbles back, his other hand coming to my hips as he immediately kisses me back. I smile against the feel of it. Gods, he tasted like honey. I pull him closer, his chest pressing into mine as I balance on my toes just so I can reach up to him. He hums against my lips before pulling back with a knowing smile. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," I admit and his eyes gleam with pure affection.

"I have some idea." He reassured me before dipping down again and this time taking my mouth entirely, my lower back pressed against the counter behind me, his hands dipped down, sliding along every inch of my body until finding purchase at my thighs and hoisting me up onto the counter, my legs immediately wrapping around his torso as he pried my mouth open with his tongue and I allow him to explore every inch, I've dreamed of this, fantasized of this. Every male I've ever been with never amounted to what could've been with Helion, and now I have it and I was never going to give it up.

My hands go into his hair, dragging through the black locks as he presses his wanting hips into mine. I begin to work at the top of his robes, dipping it off his shoulder. He backs away with a restrained movement. "We can wait." He pants out. "We can go slow," he reassured, staring at me with every ounce of self-discipline he possessed. "I don't want to wait," I shake my head. "I need you now," I add and a smile curves his lips— then a soft gasp releases from his lips, looking at the center of my chest with creased brows.

A sudden sort of devotion overwhelms my body and I look down, spotting a golden string, sprouting from my abdomen and tethering directly to his. "Mate," I mumble, the only thought racing through my head. My body heats at the realization and when he pulls me into a kiss this time it's pure adoration, in every movement he holds utmost love and respect.

"You're my mate," I mumble into his mouth and he nods with a smirk on his lips. "Wait—" I say and he immediately rears back. I turn to look beside me, the freshly peeled orange untouched on its plate. I pick the fruit up and split it into two. "Eat." I hold the tangerine out toward him. His expression turns into something tender and he takes the fruit, taking no time to consume the citrusy fruit, handing me the other half and beckoning me to eat too. I smile and peel one slice off and pop it into my mouth.

A sudden smell of arousal takes over the space and as soon as I swallow down the slice his lips are on mine, his hands pulling me closer, kissing me deeper, harder. He tasted of citrus and that fact fueled every nerve in my body. Mates, we're mated. His tongue enters my mouth again and the mating frenzy seems to take him full throttle. He winnows us into his quarters, carrying me towards his bed.

Something told me we wouldn't be leaving this bedroom for weeks.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glam-targaryen @going-through-shit @fauxdette @impossibelle @amara-moonlight @webecheesy-blog @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogersbarnesxx

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

Sunkissed

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The inner circle goes on holiday and Azzie is just allllll over his girl <3

Warnings: None

Notes: Thank you so much for all the love on my last story!

Image Credit: Pinterest

“It’s my pleasure,” Helion smirked, addressing the crowd with his words yet focusing his eyes on her. His brown skin reflected golden in the sun, the white cloth of his draped garment seeming to glow with it.

“Ever the generous host you are, Helion,” She played along for fun, the nature– and limits– of their flirty yet friendly relationship barely a secret.

“I wouldn’t dare displease you,” Helion purred. “You shouldn’t want for anything here. Just say the words, darling, and I’ll personally take care of it.”

Azriel was not the jealous type. He knew the effect he had on her, even all this time, and knew even better the effect she still had on him. It was like no time had passed since they’d been newly mated. His skin flushed as he recalled that initial period, how love-drunk he’d been, truly sated for the first time in his life by her burning affection, having his fill of her taste, and touch, and beautiful mind yet never getting enough of it at the same time.

He was a fool when it came to her, his brothers knew it, she knew it, and Azriel himself would not deny it either.

Yet his skin tightened over his bones and his shirt collar constricted the base of his thick neck ever so slightly as he walked behind her, watching Helion’s eyes trace her form, catching at her collarbones. The thought of him, another male, trying to provide for her, meet her every need, giving her anything… Azriel’s blood boiled. That was his place. He watched as his mate laughed dismissively, unobservant of Helion’s intense gaze.

She was beautiful, charming, and witty. No one could deny it. Rhys did not make her his foreign advisor for no reason. Azriel was quite used to people staring and trying to win her affections, but usually it never bothered him. Because at the end of the day, it was his ears that heard her thoughts and secrets, his eyes that watched her take on the world with grace and strength, and it was his bed they shared every night. He felt secure in their bond and she only had eyes for him, despite the entire world trying to court her at any given moment.

Mor and Feyre shared an amused, knowing glance at each other, studying the three as Rhys took over the conversation.

Helion led the group to his private lake just behind his palace. He was gracious in allowing the Inner Circle to have their summer holiday at his place in the Day Court, granting them access to his entire estate and anything on it for as long as they wished. “There are no such things as debts or favors when it comes to friends,” he said when he offered the location to Rhys in the first place.

The lake was downright gorgeous. Velaris was beautiful, but the Sidra could not compare to the Day Court’s waters even on its best day, a truth Azriel had kept to himself and Cassian had no problem voicing to Rhys. Its turquoise waters stretched for miles and miles, the sandy floor, algae, and tiny native fish visible through the watery looking glass. The palace sat behind them, watching protectively over its best-kept secret, and a vast expanse of green mountains rose on either side, their jagged edges softened by the lush native trees and vegetation. They curved around the lake the same way the gold of a crown hugs its jewel, enclosing it tightly in its earthy palm. Flowers trailed from the balcony down to the beach, the mud and sand padding the rock where the water met the earth. Blankets and a large wicker picnic basket lay ready on the beach.

Mor grabbed her and Feyre in her either of hands and dragged them down to the beach in a giddy, childish run. Azriel’s guiding, protective hand that had been poised at the small of her back suddenly felt cold at the fingertips as she was whisked away, her warm skin no longer close enough to soothe his skin like a balm.

He watched as she shed her clothes, throwing them haphazardly across the blankets. She laughed as Mor threw her dress over the picnic basket and picked out the gold pins in her hair, one by one, letting them land where they wanted to.

Azriel’s cheeks burned and his heart hammered with desire as he watched her shimmy out of her clothing, exposing her soft skin to the touch of the sun. The two-piece swimming slip adorned her curves so perfectly, like the garment was in love with its wearer. He’d picked it out for her. Her hair caught the breeze like something out of a novel and he swore he could smell her soap on the breeze even from all the way over where he was. Everytime he looked at her he felt like he was taking her in for the first time all over again. Part of him almost wanted to turn away with how difficult he suddenly found it to breathe, but he reminded himself with giddy disbelief, she’s mine.

“Easy,” Cassian muttered with a smirk, scenting him.

Azriel cleared his throat and Rhys sent him a boyish smile while continuing his conversation with Helion. Nesta and Amren joined the girls getting ready to get into the water while Elain and Varian settled on the blankets, books in each of their laps.

Mor was the first in the water, squealing at the sensation of it, cold at first, but warming to a luxurious temperature almost immediately. She laced her fingers with Feyre’s and they immediately followed Mor, throwing their heads back and laughing.

She savored the feel of the water against her skin, letting herself melt into its grasp and flow, letting it spread her hair behind her back and thread its liquid fingers through her strands. She submerged herself, gliding through the water until she was further out than anyone else. She’d waited for this holiday even before she knew they were going. She adored swimming, but there weren’t too many spots to do so in Velaris. In the water like this, enveloped in the lapping, balmy embrace of its ripples, she was at peace. Squealing, she beckoned the rest of the girls towards her, waving to Azriel from where he stood smiling like an idiot at her on the beach. He was shirtless now, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

Azriel thought the sun complemented her skin, but in her eyes, it downright worshiped his. A glow even brighter than Helion’s overly-dramatic gold crown beamed from every inch of his body, tan and beautiful, broad and strong. She needed him in the water now.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a splash of water to her face. She gasped and laughed at the unexpected sensation, Mor and Feyre giggling like schoolgirls at their mischief.

Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel settled back into the blankets, supporting themselves with elbows that dug divots in the sand.

“Did you ever imagine this life for us?” Cassian asked his brothers as each of them watched their mates in the water.

They rarely got a holiday, and it was even more rare that they allowed themselves to take one if they had the time. Of course, it was Rhys that encouraged this outing in the first place. When Azriel and Amren refused, he required it, as their High Lord, to take the holiday with everyone else.

That wasn’t what convinced Azriel, though. It was his mate's excited chatter about the prospect of the holiday at Helion’s lake with all of their friends, getting to spend time with each other outside of Velaris, visiting another court without the prospect of war hovering over them, being able to swim for the first time in so long. She could hardly wait to feel the water on her skin, to feel the sun on her face, and to spend time with Azriel, experience a new place together. He couldn’t say no as he sat back on their bed and watched her try on her new swimming slips for him, as she packed their bags so early in advance because she could hardly wait.

No, Azriel would not take this vacation because of Rhys’ orders as High Lord of the Night Court, but because it made his soulmate so unbelievably happy. That was all the reason he needed.

Azriel shook his head. “I never would have expected it to be this good. Every day feels like I’m waking up in a dream when she’s next to me.”

His brothers could not even ridicule him for his uncharacteristic sappiness. None of them expected to have mates, let alone be so loved by them, when they were just three boys in a war camp deep in the Illyrian mountains. They did not dare to imagine anything about their future for fear of never seeing it. An rough-and-ready lordling and two bastards. What odds.

Life wasn’t always perfect– there would always be Hybern and their human sympathizers, and probably a hundred other things, to worry about. But with their loves in their lives and talks of starting families, they supposed it was as close to perfect as the Cauldron would allow.

The women spent some time in the water, swimming, splashing, lounging, and talking with their mates watching them as they talked amongst themselves. When they decided to get out to eat, Feyre challenged them all to a race.

“You’re going to regret that.”

Feyre raised her brows at Azriel’s mate, her closest friend out of them all, with mischief in her eyes. “Just because you’ve bested me in two other races doesn’t mean you’ll have this one too.”

“I think it does,” she smirked devilishly.

Feyre broke into a swim for the shore to the dismay of the other women. Amidst shouts of protest at Feyre’s unfair start, everyone else began their dash to the shore.

She sliced through the water like a knife through butter, already ahead of Mor, Nesta, and Amren, the latter of which refused to participate. Surpassing Feyre like a born nymph, she barely had to try as her body fell into the familiar motion of cutting through the soft waves of the lake until she felt the water shallow beneath her belly and she was able to stand.

The water swished at her ankles as her feet touched land once again, running up the beach. At the sight of Azriel waiting a little ways down with her towel in his hand, she all but forgot about the race. She ran toward him, blushing at his gaze. He immediately rolled the towel open and wrapped it around her as she ran into him, securing the towel with strong arms that wrapped around her body and swayed her gently with the momentum of her sprint. His strong presence was enough to halt her and she savored the feeling of his body at her back, his warmth seeping through he towel and caressing her water-frozen skin.

She was breathing deeply now, chest rising and falling under his arm. Azriel reveled in the thrum of her heart under his hold, willing it to ease.

Azriel nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck and she giggled, ticklish and giddy at his proximity.

“Did you see the race, Az? I wooon,” she sang, reaching an arm out of the towel to hold his face behind her. She leaned back against his chest, craning her neck up to meet his eyes, eyes that were absolutely drunk on watching her high. She was naturally competitive, much like he was during his snowball fights with his brothers. Watching her in her element filled him with pride to an extent she would never fully know.

“I did, I’m so proud of you, honey,” he smiled, sliding one of his arms up until it was slung across her chest, connecting his lips with hers. She tasted like the water, sweet and fresh. Azriel couldn’t help himself as he grabbed her waist. It was like drinking from a fountain with an eternal thirst he couldn’t quench. More, more, more. He didn’t care who was around.

She pulled away, flustered. “You sure don’t mind putting on a show,” she turned around fully in his arms so that she was facing him now. The towel had fallen slightly, now hung loosely around the crooks of her elbows. Her wet hair fell in waves around her face and to him, she looked like a goddess of the water. He was barely religious, the furthest thing from it really, but he’d devote himself to her for nothing in return.

After the food had been brought out, the Inner Circle enjoyed the lunchtime feast of bread, wine, fruit, and meats. After everyone had eaten their fill, namely Cassian who was half passed out on his back, they lounged on the beach. Nesta nestled into Cassian’s broad side with her book, speaking to Elain quietly. Amren and Varian had rattled off somewhere right after they were done eating– insatiable those two were. Mor was laying on her back, facing the sun, catching a tan.

“I’m so happy we did this,” Feyre said softly, addressing the group. “It feels like lately our joy has come from short-lived bursts of happiness or quiet. I can’t tell you all what it means to me that we can have this time without preparing for the worst.”

Rhys rubbed a soothing thumb over her shoulder. Everyone raised their glasses to that.

Azriel leaned back into the sand, one arm folded under his head and the other extended as his mate rested her head on the inside of his bicep. Tired from swimming and full from their meal, she curled into his side, draping a leg across his.

“I’m so happy to be here with you,” She murmured into the side of his chest, peppering kisses there on his warm, tan skin. Azriel brought his arm around her, pulling her closer and resting a hand over her hip, enjoying the heat of her sun-kissed skin beneath it.

He rested his mouth at the top of his forehead as she drifted in and out of sleep. He was like her sleeping drug. Whenever they sat back together to watch a movie, read their books, or on nights in with their friends for some wine and card games, she could hardly stay awake beside him.

His heart swelled. She felt so comfortable around him that her guards collapsed to dust in his presence. She gave herself fully to him, to his care, and he wasn’t sure if he could hold her any tighter at that moment.

Helion came out to check on his guests. “Like a litter of babes, the lot of you,” He chuckled as he took in his friends, exhausted and full, lazing about his private beach. His eyes floated over to her, to her dozing form beside her mate, beautiful and soft. Peaceful. Azriel was aware of his gaze– he always was aware of anyone perceiving his mate. He only opened his book and continued skimming his fingers on her hips above the waistband of her swimsuit. She was blissfully unaware, half awake, half dreaming, lulled into a world of dreams and darkness by the steadiness of Azriel’s breath and light touch.

After the group of friends were well rested, everyone made their way into the water again. Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel raced out to the middle of the lake, Azriel the obvious winner and it wasn’t even close. Cassian batted a wave of water over Az with his wing in tantrum and Rhys only laughed until his stomach throbbed. They played chicken, Nesta on Cassian’s shoulders and she on Azriel’s. Mor wanted to pretend-play mermaids and they dragged the males in on their fun. They begrudgingly played along, yet were silently more than happy to oblige them. Nesta placed a crown of algae on Cassian’s head and he fully committed to his part as King of the Plankton. They floated on their backs, swam in circles, and splashed waves at each other.

Climbing the jagged, rocky cliffs on either side of the lake, they jumped off of their ledges into the water below, in flips and turns, nosedives and backflips. The setting sun cooled the water, a pink and purple sky above their heads melting into an inky blue that lined the horizon.

A perfect day.

Everyone grew tired again. From the beach music began to play. Light and upbeat, but beautiful and soft– distinctly Day Court.

Azriel gently grabbed her hand, leading her behind one of the cliffs they had jumped off of. It was the largest cliff jutting out of the lake and provided complete privacy when they were on the other side of it.

“I’ve been waiting to get you alone all day,” Azriel said, removing a hand from under the surface of the water and moving a lock of her hair behind her shoulder. He took in her tanned skin and sun-blushed shoulders and cheeks.

“All you had to do was ask,” She replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Azriel’s self control snapped like a rubber band and he pushed his body through the water against her, pinning her to the rock behind them. His hand cradled the back of her head against the jagged cuts of the cliff. He needed more, but he paced himself, letting himself savor the feel of her skin under the water. Azriel ran his hand up and down the side of her stomach, his fingertips trailing the skin as he moved. Her skin pebbled in the wake of his touch, sending a shiver down her spine. Even in his frenzy he took his time. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he slanted his lips over hers, water sloshing between their bodies in whatever space was left.

She sighed into his mouth and it drove him crazy. Pressing her chest to his, she needed to be as close as could, within his very being if it was possible.

“If I could just crawl into your skin and live inside your heart I would,” She told him one drunken night when she’d gotten so trashed with Nesta and Mor that he needed to fly her back home rather than walk like they always did after a night out. Azriel never forgot those words, and everytime they kissed or hugged he was reminded of them with an intensity that made his chest squeeze.

“Az,” She whispered into his mouth. His hands lowered from her waist to her hips, thumbs skimming the waistband of her bottoms again.

She couldn’t get enough of him. No matter how much time passed, he drove her absolutely mad. They’d only stopped for air once they absolutely could not breathe anymore, and even then, Azriel didn’t pull too far away, needing to feel her breath on him.

“What has gotten into you today?” She laughed lightly, though definitely not complaining. It was not like him to be so risky, to be so passionate when they weren’t completely alone.

“I just love you,” was all he said.

Night fell over the Day Court slowly but surely. The day had gone on forever. By the time it was dark enough, some of Helion’s housekeepers started a bonfire and replenished the beach with more food and wine.

She laid down on the blankets again with Azriel beside her, propped up on his elbow and leaning on his side so he was looking directly down at her. Their legs were intertwined and they laughed and spoke softly, a bit away from the rest of the group.

Azriel’s free hand rested on the plane of her soft belly, listening more than he spoke. Of course he was a man of few words, but around her, he enjoyed letting her speak. It was one of his favorite things, learning more and more about the way her brilliant mind worked with the things she said.

With her thoughts, ideas, and opinions, he thought she was incredibly intelligent– the smartest person he knew. He learned so much from her eloquent tongue, adoration filling him from head to toe when she went on her tangents.

The first time she even went on one of her rants in front of him, even before the bond had snapped into place, she was flustered and apologized to Azriel. At the time, she didn’t know Azriel liked her back and dread filled her veins at the idea that she possibly scared him away for good. But he simply shook his head and encouraged her, asking questions and helping her carry the conversation when he felt it start to falter with her hesitation.

They rejoined their friends at some point– he couldn’t remember when, or how long they’d been lost in each other. When she said she wanted to go sit with everyone else for a bit, he agreed. He’d always follow her wherever she led, no questions asked. Back up the beach, up to their room, to the ends of the earth, even.

[archangeldyke-all]

So I think I’m gonna need more of that arranged marriage between royal sev and royal reader because that wasn’t enough I NEED MORE IT WAS SO GOOD

HEEHEHEHEEHE

men and minors dni

dawn is starting to break over the horizion by the time your wedding reception ends. zaunites know how to party.

you're giggling and drunk, squirming in sevika's arms as she laughs brightly and carries you into her estate.

it's more like her own personal palace. you gasp as she sets you down, marveling at the vaulted stained glass ceilings and gorgeous view of the water below. "this is all yo--" you're cut off by sevika pulling you in for a kiss. you giggle against her lips.

"it's yours too, now." she says, her lips curved upward against yours.

"it's beautiful." you sigh.

"not as beautiful as you." she whispers.

you snort and shove her away. "give me a tour." you request.

sevika takes your hand in hers, leading you around her estate.

"tell me how you found out you were getting married."

you blink up at your new wife, tearing your eyes away from the view of the water below her home. "uh... i was told we were here for a diplomatic show of solidarity between my kingdom and zaun. it wasn't until the servants started dressing me in the white gown that i started to suspect something else was happening." sevika laughs. "what about you?" you ask.

she studies you happily. "my father decided i was too old to remain unmarried. i told him i'd only marry if he could find me a woman worth settling for. i didn't think he'd actually do it." she whispers.

you're taken aback.

you went under no questioning process-- there was no previous meeting between you and sevika before this evening. "...and am i supposed to be that woman?" you ask.

sevika shrugs again, casually and smiling easily. "we've gotten along great so far, haven't we?" she asks.

you laugh. "we've known each other for five hours!"

"you're telling me you didn't feel anything different the first time you saw me?" she asks.

you gulp. she's got you there. you've never been so instantly, hopelessly attracted to a woman before; never laughed so carelessly with someone you've only known for such a short time. sevika grins, apparently able to read your mind, and she reaches out to sling her arms around your waist and pull you close to her.

"look." she whispers. "if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out, and we can do what the rest of the royals do and live separate lives in private. but before that... i'd like to give this marriage an honest shot with you."

you have to take a few deep breaths to keep from actually swooning in sevika's arms. sevika takes your silence as rejection, her hands falling from your hips and her eyes falling from yours as she steps away.

"i-i'm sorry. i don't know what the fuck i'm talking about-- i was convinced i wasn't going to accept whatever woman my father put in front of me but then i saw you." sevika's rambling. fuck, she's adorable. "i've never felt this way for someone before, and we laughed and danced so easily... a-are you a witch?"

the accusation finally shocks you out of your love-struck gawking, and you burst into laughter, launching yourself at your wife and wrapping your arms around her shoulders as you kiss her.

she heaves a sigh of relief as she catches you around the waist, spinning you around and walking you backward-- somewhere down the winding halls of her home.

"fuck, fuck, this can not be happening." she giggles as you wrap your legs around her hips, sucking hickeys into her neck.

"what?" you ask.

"this is ridiculous! we're two princesses and what-- we fell in love at first sight?!" sevika seems equally thrilled and pissed off. your heart soars at the word 'love' coming from her lips. "it's a fucking cliche!" she whines.

you burst into laughter, pulling away from her neck to kiss her lips. she hums against you, her grip on your ass and around your waist getting tighter, and her pace quickens as she starts a light jog toward her sleeping quarters.

you squeak when she drops you, landing in a plush, luxurious bed. sevika jumps right on top of you, grinning down at you.

"do you like a soft or hard mattress?"

"is that a strange zaunite euphemism for asking if i'm a bottom?" you ask.

sevika bursts into laughter, then swoops down to kiss you again.

"no. i'm asking if you like a soft or hard mattress. i'll have the servants switch this one out for one of the guest room mattresses if you need something different-- i have no preference, i can fall asleep on the ground, honestly, but... i'd like to sleep beside you--" she's rambling again. you pull her down for another kiss, and she sighs against you, and when you pull away, the anxiety in her eyes is gone. "thank you. i thought i was never gonna shut up."

you grin. "you might be the cutest royal military consultant in the world."

sevika snorts and nips your bottom lip. "tell me how you like your mattress." she demands.

"i'm a vers." you say. sevika whines, her eyes rolling back in her head, and you giggle. "and if you want my opinion on the bed, you're going to have to help me out of this marshmallow of a dress. i can't feel anything besides tulle right now." sevika's tearing at your dress before you can finish your sentence.

"fuck, i think i'm in love with you." she laughs. you grin up at the canopy covering the bed, then prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as sevika tugs layer after layer of underskirt off your hips. "why the fuck would they layer you up like this?" she grunts. "how am i supposed to consummate our fucking marriage if i can't even find you?"

there's a horrible ripping sound, followed by twin gasps and then silence.

sevika swims out from under the layers of your dress to look up at you guiltily. her hair's a mess, there's a blush on her cheeks, and it hits you that you might actually be the luckiest woman alive. "if the tailor asks: you didn't hear that."

you laugh. "you're scared of the tailor?"

"you haven't met babette yet! she'll fuckin' prick you if you piss her off!" sevika huffs as she dives back under your skirts.

you can't stop giggling as sevika strips you, and you start to undo your corsets on top to help her get you naked faster.

when sevika finally gets you down to your bloomers she flashes you a devilish grin before she ducks down to start sucking and nipping your thighs.

"ah! shit!" you groan, collapsing back onto her bed. "fuck, sevika-- get naked." you whine, squirming away from her mouth.

sevika strips at the speed of the light, and you whimper at the sight of her. she smirks before standing back up off the bed and flexing her arms for you.

you burst into flustered giggles and hide your face behind your hands. sevika's laughing at the foot of the bed. "you're next." she reminds you.

you take a deep breath to steady yourself, then crawl out of the bed to stand in front of her.

in two quick moves, you throw off the flimsy undershirt and bloomers you were wearing, revealing your body to her.

sevika gawks.

before you can begin to feel anxious, or flattered, or even come up with a tease about her catching flies with her open mouth, she tackles you to the bed, kissing you passionately as her hands roam and grope your body.

about three hours ago, you and sevika found a private corner of the ballroom to makeout in, both of you grinding against each other until you came; muffling your moans against each other's mouths.

this is so fucking different.

sevika's touch sends sparks down your spine, her skin on yours feels like the finest silk you've ever touched, her moans are like music to your ear.

you make love clumsily and messily; both of you drunk and elated.

you're a pile of sweaty limbs, chest pressed to chest, legs intertwined as sevika grinds her cunt against yours.

neither of you can speak. you both try, aborted curses punctuating the air, but neither of you can stop moaning for long enough to be coherent.

"hah, i-- unh, unh, shit!"

"ye-yes, yeah, yea- ah, fu-- sev!"

eventually, sevika gives up on trying to talk, and presses her mouth to yours instead.

time melts beneath her, and your pleasure becomes limitless. you aren't aware you're cumming until sevika's kissing you back to life, nudging you with her nose as she waits for you to open your eyes again.

"mmm." you say. sevika nods against your neck.

"mmm." she agrees. you both burst into giggles at the same time. "how d'ya like the mattress?" sevika asks. her voice is low and grumbly, you can feel your cunt pulse at the sound.

"honestly, sevika, you just fucked me so good i can't feel anything besides my clit right now." you say. sevika giggles. "but lemme get a good night's sleep 'n i'll let you know in the morning."

she kisses you, brushing her tongue against yours before going boneless on top of you. you laugh, wrapping your arms around her in a hug. "do you want me to move?" she asks, even though she's wiggling to make herself more comfortable against your chest.

"no. you're a really great blanket." you sigh, running your fingers through her hair.

you both start to drift off to sleep, the sun beginning to rise outside the window.

right before you can tip over into sleep, a thought occurs to you, and you huff aloud.

"what?" sevika mumbles against you.

"my mom is gonna be such a know-it-all, told-ya-so bitch about this. i've been dating assholes for years, then i fall in love at first sight with the first person she picks out for me." you whine.

sevika's smile is so wide that when she leans in to kiss you, it's just her teeth knocking against your lips.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette

[slashingdisneypasta]

Imagine;

Being a servant girl under the Evil Queen's order. You're only a peasant- less then that, you're a maid. You're not free in the slightest.

But regularly, you dream~ ^^

The Queen throws gorgeous royal balls every now and then and you always find yourself staying awake until everyone is gone- and the ballroom is dark and baron, the only light inside coming in from the moon and stars outside. Then you like to dance, closing your eyes and imagining away your old servants rags into gorgeous glittering dresses (A new colour, a new material, a new style every night) and making up a prince with the most beautiful green eyes to dance with you.

One night, inside the room where the flowers are strung up over the ceiling and are lit up in white moonlight, and the deafening silence despite the violins playing music in imagination, you open your eyes not to see a prince- but the Queen standing in the room with you watching your made-up dalliances in her palace.

You startle, eyes wide, and you try to apologise- horrified and meek as that apology is flying from your lips.

... I've been dancing with stupid men all night, whoever-you-are.

I can't dance with pretty young ladies at my balls, unfortunately. As much as I'd like to.

... but here you are. A young lady all alone, dancing so gracefully, and pretty- even as filthy, as you are.

Take my hand, servant girl. Come. Now.

[fishii-writes]

the crown of your head - chapter two - him.

masterlist

cw: kaiser (again smh /j), proofread (at 3am so dont attack me!), finally some isagi crumbs 🤯, kaiser slanders/humbles isagi, lmk if i missed anything

a/n: erm. not rlly liking this series so far! sorry chat... anyw erm if the first few chapters i have planned dont really idk, hit off ig, i might not continue this as a series. best bet might be to make it a long fic but idk man. enjoy !

word count: 426

Michael smiles in return, introducing himself and stating his reason for arrival. Before he can introduce you, a woman, who looks pretty young, but certainly not young enough to be your age, catches sight of him. With a smile on her face, she hurries down the large white staircase.

“Michael! You made it! And with your darling sister,” she looks and sounds so happy, it's a nice change, compared to how your parents behave at the mere mention of you.

She wraps your brother into a quick hug then shakes Ness’ hand. She turns to you, politely smiling as she puts out her hand for you to shake it. You hesitantly shoot a quick glance to Ness, who nods, then to your brother, who nods a little more harshly. You shake the lady’s hand, reciprocating the smile.

“Welcome, welcome, dears! Yoichi, darling, come down!” she lets go of your hand once you share the friendly gesture and turns around, calling out to someone. And boy were you wrong for thinking this was some mere “someone”.

She calls out again, inviting the three of you in as a butler leads you to the lobby. Honestly, can it even be called a lobby, by the way it's so extravagant? Not just its vibrant exterior, the whole palace follows the theme of sapphire blue. It's gorgeous, to say the very least.

“Ah, mom! We have guests?” a boy who looks around your age, assumingly Yoichi, asks, standing beside his mother. She nods. She whispers something to him before she exits the room. The boy walks closer, smiling.

“Welcome-” your brother cuts him off. So they’ve met before, and don’t seem to be on good terms. Just great.

“Oh please, don't act like you didn’t know we were coming here. Didn’t you encourage it?” Michael rolls his eyes, a scowl finding its way back onto his face. The boy’s smile fades, but doesn’t say anything.

“As I was saying, welcome to the Panasonic kingdom. I’m Yoichi,” he smiles. And that's where your mind goes blank for a moment. The way his eyes are upturned kind of animatedly, and his lashes are brushing against the skin above his eyes. God, who let the “devil” be so handsome-

You’re snapped out of your daze when you hear your brother groan. “I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Michael scoffs, turning to Ness and dragging him out the lobby.

Well, that’s embarrassing. Rude, one might even say. But Yoichi doesn't really look that surprised, more confused, almost as if it happens… often?

taglist: @someprettyname , @reapkusho , @starrissm , @zendersenders , @thebestsetter , @takemikai , @sharkissm , @shidousprincess , @academiq , @reonaissance , @your-local-reblogging-kazoo , @ab-meri-jeene-ki-tammana-nahi , @nareldata + open (send an ask/comment on main post if you'd like to be added)

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

© fishii-writes 2024

[103rafes]

TAPE 006 ᯓ★

"I've never had a guy take me out before."

in which citygirl!pogue!reader is a bit stunned when her boyfriend takes her out to a high end for their first date night as a couple.

-

BF!Rafe and CITYGIRL!KOOK!reader

Lights of the city blur into one down the bustling road in Charlotte, North Carolina. You're sat in the front passenger seat of your new boyfriend's F150, watching everything fly past you out the window. You dressed as nice as you could for the occasion when Rafe had first texted you about, pretty with an Alice mini dress, sparkling in a captivating silver, fit around your curves. It was a foreign feeling, being taken out on a date.

You've never had the luxury of the experience, you were used to having the bad end of the stick, taking people out and then having them ditch you months later, it was a pattern you'd grown annoyed of and it had given you reason to doubt any advances that'd come your way.

Not with Rafe Cameron though.

For some reason, Rafe Cameron had made it through to you and actually seemed to be treating you right.

You were quiet, white French tips gently tapping along the edge of the window, gazing outside. After a bit, you heard a voice.

"You've been awfully quiet since we got in here, princess," Rafe's almost slurry sounding voice settled into your ears, and you turned around, your free hand mindlessly caressing the perfect ends of your straightened hair, "Oh, I was just..admiring the view outside," You answered, calm. Rafe looked handsome, all fancy with a navy blue blazer, open to a slightly unbuttoned white silk dress shirt beneath, and those nice designer dress pants you'd chose with him when you went shopping last week.

He looked good and put together. Unlike your past situationships.

Rafe gave a low hum to your answer, processing it, "S'a uh..high end, 'know you're probably used to all that, but-" before he could continue, you interrupted. "No, it's fine Rafe, really..I'm," you paused, hesitating on whether or not to really voice out your honest opinion, but if you were going to date Rafe, then you might aswell start getting comfortable with speaking on your thoughts, "I'm actually not used to this, you know? All the guys I've tried dating, they've never really taken me out, this is a first." You shrugged, hands crossed with the metal chain of your mini silver purse between your body and bicep.

Rafe's eyes squinted at that, a bit stunned as he glanced at you through the corner of his eye, "Seriously?" He sounded like he was offended with the notion. You nodded, and Rafe scoffed, "Guess it's reasonable t'not date if y'got guys like that tryna make ya there's."

You watched as Rafe's hand smoothly turned the wheel of the truck, and pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. You couldn't help but marvel in your mind; it looked, lavish. Rafe found a spot, though there wasn't many full ones, parking expertly before pulling the gearshift into park and killing the engine. He got out of the car, moving to your side and opening the door for you.

Really, it did confuse you greatly and it showed on the dumbfounded expression on your face. Rafe stared right back at you and after an uncomfortably long time, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion.

"You okay, or-"

"What?" You interrupted, and blinked, long, mascara coated lashes fluttering before you realized, "Oh! Sorry, I.." You laughed anxiously, before you got out of the car, the ends of your black stilettos hitting pavement, "Thank you."

Rafe nodded while he closed the door, a hand slipping to intertwine his fingers with yours. It was a quiet walk to the front of the restaurant, and once you stepped through - you couldn't help but let your eyes widen. The place was gorgeous, it really reminded you of the Palace of Versailles, just in a black to white scaled modern thematic.

Your ears didn't catch on Rafe's conversation with a waitress who'd come to assist you to for you reservation, simply looking around like you'd just seen the world for the first time ever. Your feet were moving, presumably Rafe guiding you to your guys' table, but it wasn't clicking.

This place was ethereal and fancy, even beyond your standards. Eventually, you snapped out of your trance after hearing the subtle scratch of the chair against the almost glassy floor. "Have a seat, princess." Rafe murmured low into your ear, which settled comfortably into your chest.

You listened with no further word, adjusting your hair to lay behind you as you took in the place one more, before your eyes met Rafe, puzzled, "Rafe, this place looks..expensive." You spoke, and a husky laugh let the man, "S'that right? Thought expensive was your whole thing." He said light heartedly, pouring glasses of water for the two of you. Silence was all that came from you, seeming to register the sentence.

"Well, yeah but I mean this looks like something Marie Antoinette would own for an exquisite ball dance, not a date night," You laughed quietly, and a soft breath let you, almost of disbelief, "it's..it's beautiful."

That half smirk of Rafe's fell onto his lips, and he nodded, almost proud of himself for pulling such words out of you as the edge of the crystal glass hit his lips, water slowly going through the seams of the pink, "Wow, 'should be pattin' my back then." He joked, and you couldn't help but smile, a soft giggle leaving you. Giggles, that never came from you.

Least not from a guy's words.

You tilted your head, brows furrowing while your eyes narrowed softly, examining Rafe, "You're funny, Mr. Cameron," you murmured, a low tease in your tone that Rafe picked up on and he hummed, setting the glass down on the silk white of the table cloth.

"Anythin' t'see that pretty smile a'yours, princess." He smoothly replied, and you felt a foreign feeling. It was this tingling sensation, but not only that - there was warmth in your heart.

You couldn't help the grin that came onto your face. Princess, and those words.

Being called princess was best when it was coming out Rafe Cameron's mouth.

Maybe being taken out wasn't so bad after all; you could get used to this.

- note; hey LMFAOO. This is my first time writing these like..fics on tumblr of all places, 'n so I seriously, don't know how this shit works; a good friend of mine really guided me into it, and I decided it would be so embarrassing of me to start writing fics in the name of fan service and lack of anything better to do with my life so uh..here I am. Hope you guys enjoyed this, 'n if you didn't uh- lucky me. Could use advice, so slide it if ya can. Thank ya kindly!

also..I didn't proofread. I will later tho.. maybe might add some other stuff too..

[hwashotcheeto]

Here's the Prince!Seonghwa drabble I thought about. @malldreamprincess princess made this moodboard for me without asking, so she's amazing, everyone say thank you to her. 💜

Prince!Seonghwa x gn!reader

WC: 922

All fluff, very fluffy, rot your teeth like cotton candy fluffy.

Tag List: @cherrycel @mxnsxngie @malldreamprincess @asjkdk

You were sitting in the rose gardens, admiring the many different manicured bushes, counting the blooms on each one. Before you moved to the Palace of Wonderland, you’d never known how many colors roses could be. You’d seen red, white, and pink, sure, but here, there was blue, and purple. 

“You spend a lot of time here,” a voice behind you observed. 

You turned your head to see him. Your betrothed. The man you were going to be married to in just two months. 

The crown prince of Wonderland, Park Seonghwa. Your future husband. 

You fought your father on being married off to a man for the sake of an alliance. You hated it, you didn’t want your life to be a bargaining chip. 

And then you met the man you’d be married to. You met Seonghwa, and he was everything anyone could want. 

Romantic, kind, sweet, gentle, gorgeous, loving, and so much more. 

He made sure you were comfortable with anything he did. He held you when you were scared. He defended you from others in the palace. He made the effort to learn who you were and what you liked. 

He told you the night you met: “I’ll always be your husband before I am your king. And I’ll do my best to be the best one I can be for you.” 

You vowed the same to him. To be the best spouse you could be. Every kind gesture, you returned it. You learned about him as he learned about you. 

You wanted to marry this man. And he wanted to marry you. 

“I like roses,” you responded, turning more towards him, coming back to reality. 

Seonghwa smiled as he walked up to you, his back perfectly straight, as always. He sat next to you on the little stone bench as he looked at the roses as well. 

“They are quite beautiful, aren’t they?” He reached out and held one of the blooms in his hand. You watched his slim, delicate hands cradle the delicate flower in his palm as he admired it’s deep red coloring. 

“They are. They’re my favorite.” 

Seonghwa looked at you, and every time you looked at him, you fell deeper into his dark eyes. He looked at you with a fondness you’d never been familiar with. And he made sure you felt it every time his eyes met yours. 

He nodded as he let go of the rose, turning back to you. You did the same. 

“I have something I wanted to give to you,” Seonghwa said softly. He held out his hand for you to take, which you easily did. His hand closed around yours, and it felt like a key sliding into it’s lock. 

He reached back into his pocket and retrieved a small, black, velvet box. With his one hand, he managed to open the box, and revealed a gorgeous diamond ring. A silver band with a diamond on the top, with smaller red rubies around it. 

A diamond, for you, and rubies, for his kingdom’s colors. 

Seonghwa couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled the ring from the box. “I know royals don’t have proposals, but I could not stop thinking about this moment.” He looked up at you as he held the ring, the biggest smile you’d ever seen on anyone, his eyes sparkling with delight. 

It was taking everything in you to not burst into tears on the spot. Despite the tears, you were smiling as well. Your heart ached with a love you’d never felt before. An adoration, a desire saved for someone like him. 

For someone as special as he was. 

“Would you marry me, my dear?” He asked you, moving closer, squeezing your hand. He lowered his voice as he leaned closer to you. “Would you spend the rest of your life with me, and make me the happiest man on Earth?” 

You nodded as the tears spilled down your cheeks, not trusting yourself to speak. You felt weak, but not in a negative way. Your whole body felt the love you had for him. 

You were convinced that you were in love with the prince. You were marrying this prince not because you had to, but because you loved him. And he loved you just as much. 

Seonghwa slid the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly. 

He reached up and held your face in his hands, wiping away your tears. You gratefully leaned into his warm, soft touch as he cradled you like you were the most precious jewel in the world. To Seonghwa, you were. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, wiping away another tear. “I’ll be the best husband I can be.” 

“I know,” you whispered back, reaching up to lay your hands on his. “I’ll do the same for you.” 

“I know.” He smiled as he repeated your words, but tears began to well in his own eyes. His eyes sparkled even more than normal. 

You let go of his hands and threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could manage. Seonghwa did the same, holding you tightly against his chest. The squeeze made you feel safe. You knew you’d always be safe in Seonghwa’s arms. 

There were no words exchanged. There didn’t need to be. 

This is what life would be for years. Loving embraces. Endless kisses. Bottomless adoration. Singing each other’s praises until the end of your days. 

Being entirely, selfishly, hopelessly devoted to each other. 

You couldn’t think of anything better.

Neither could Seonghwa.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[twiceinadream]

“A More…Hands On Experience.”

Requested: Nope

Prompt: G!P Fem! S/O is a pool cleaner, Jihyo is a very attractive woman who asks S/O to rub oil on her.

a/u: Hey everyone! I’m back with a new fic that I hope you all enjoy. I can’t believe it’s already been 4 years since I started writing on Tumblr and I don’t have any plans on stopping in the near future! I want to thank you all for continued love and support after all these years. I love you guys!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

The sun shone brightly over Guri, leaving the town in a beautiful glow. The air held a cool breeze and the warmth from the sun was just enough to heat the skin, more-or-less the day was pretty perfect.

You smiled to yourself as you hummed the last song you had heard on the radio under your breath. You were in good spirits, the weather was great, and you were on to the first client of the day. The house was very beautiful and you couldn’t help but marvel at all of the intricate botany.

The house itself looked quite modern as you walked up the little step to knock. It gave a hollow sound as you waited patiently, one of your hands in your pocket. It didn’t take long before you heard a faint, “Hold on, I’m coming!” From inside the house, the door was opened by the most beautiful woman you had ever seen and her attire - or lack there of - made your mouth go dry, “Hi, may I help you?”

You felt like your eyes were gonna pop out of your skull before you quickly shook your head and cleared your throat, recovering your professional demeanor, “Hi, yes, Miss Park?” The woman nodded and it finally clicked that your client was the Park Jihyo, “Hi, I’m Y/N from Palace Pool Cleaners. We have you scheduled for a pool cleaning this morning.”

It took all of your willpower to not look down since the woman before you was the subject of a very long standing crush and she was currently dressed in a very revealing bikini that was barely covered by a white dress shirt. “Oh goodness, you’re right. My apologies, it completely slipped my mind. I was actually about to lounge by the pool myself, it won’t interfere with your work will it?”

You shook your head, it wasn’t uncommon for clients to be out while you worked. Guaranteed most of your clients weren’t insanely attractive women who had been the object of your affection, but you needed to keep this professional. You couldn’t risk losing your job over a stupid crush, “Not at all, Miss Park. Depending on how much debris is in the pool and all the other little nuances I need to check up on for maintenance reasons. I should be out of here in two hours.”

The brunette smiled as she looked you up and down, you couldn’t help but stiffen your stance slightly as you flexed. Secretly hoping to attract such a gorgeous woman - you were only human after all. “Take all the time you need.”

With that, you gave a curt nod to not embarrass yourself any further, “Thank you, let me grab my supplies from the truck and I’ll get started. Is there a side gate I could use to access the backyard so I’m not lugging everything through your house?”

“Yeah, it’s to the right of the garage there’s a gate, it unlocks from the back so just reach over and it leads straight to the pool.” You nodded in thanks as you turned to leave. “One more thing,” you turned back around to see that the dress shirt had fallen down one of Jihyo’s shoulders and was now exposing a good amount of her cleavage that you fought not to gawk at, “you’re new aren’t you?” You nodded as you responded with a ‘yes’, making the brunette giggle, “I just wanted to say you are a lot easier on the eyes than my last pool cleaner.” You could barely believe your ears as Jihyo left you with a wink and disappeared back into her house.

How strange.

You finally let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as Jihyo closed the door, the front of your shorts felt uncomfortably tight as you turned to go back to your truck and grab the supplies you needed. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, ‘Fucking shit. I feel like I’m living in a bad porno.’

-

Once you had gathered everything you needed to get started with the cleaning you made your way to the backyard, through the gate that Jihyo had mentioned before and you almost stopped in your tracks at the sight. The brunette was propped up on a sun bed, sunglasses on her face and the white button down discarded. Revealing her large breasts that were barely contained by the straining fabric of her brown bikini top and the tiny bottom part that left nothing to the imagination that barely covered the woman’s slit.

You could faintly see the marks of an old tan line that she was probably working on getting rid of. Jihyo didn’t seem to pay any attention to you as you went to work as usual. you set your supplies down a little ways from the edge of the pool as you began assembling the pool skimmer. Screwing together the poll and attaching the net to the end as you dipped it onto the surface of the water and began collecting the stray leaves and occasional bug.

You hummed to yourself as you got lost in the monotony of your work - it wasn’t that you hated your job, you actually loved it, it was just simple and didn’t require much thinking after enough repetitions. The pool was a fairly decent size but wasn’t large enough that it took too much effort to get through. After you had skimmed the entirety of the pool you emptied the net into a trash bag you set off to the side and picked up the pool vacuum you had brought with you.

Thankfully, this pool didn’t have an algae problem as the low hum of the motor whirred to life as you plunged it beneath the surface and once again started your methodical walk around the pool’s edge. Making sure to cover every square inch so you wouldn’t have to do it over. The sun began to beat down, the temperature had risen to 86°F (30°C) and without the coverage of clouds or a breeze, you were beginning to sweat.

Once you finally made it all the way around you pulled out the vacuum and switched off the motor, sighing as you reached for the bottom hem of your shirt and pulled it off. You were wearing a black sports bra that covered everything but a low whistle suddenly reeled your mind back into the present as you remembered that you had an audience. You turned to face the woman still lounging in the pool chair, she had shed the white button down and was left in the skimpy bikini, your eyes wandered the the swell of her massive breasts as you bit your lip.

You were trying in vain to reign in your raging hormones as you felt your dick grow half-hard. But it was confined by your boxers and the lining of your swim trunks…for now.

The brunette had noticed your gaze as she chuckled slightly, “You can keep staring, jagi. I don’t mind.” Jihyo smirked as she pushed her chest out further, “I’m very proud of my body.”

You swallowed hard as you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling brave enough to flirt back, “My apologies, I was staring at your heart, but your boobs seem to be getting in the way.”

The singer was a little surprised by the fact that you had willingly matched her energy, “Funny and good looking, a very dangerous combo.”

You smiled as you headed back to your truck briefly to retrieve the bag of pool salt you needed to restore the correct ph levels in the pool. As you came back in, you noticed Jihyo staring as your muscles bunched slightly under the weight of the bag as you carried it over your right shoulder. Once you got back to the edge of the pool you set down the bag with the side of it facing the pool as you retrieved the box cutter from your pocket and created a small triangle at the bottom of the bag as the salt began spilling out.

After all the salt had been emptied out, you crumpled up the bag and stuffed it into the trash. Tying the elastic strings to keep it closed and everything you had taken out of the pool or used stayed in it. you were finally done and you went through without any more embarrassing incidents other than flirting back a little with the beautiful woman.

You made the short walk to where Jihyo was still lounging and stopped a safe distance away as you cleared your throat to grab her attention. The brunette turned her head as she lifted her sunglasses to properly look at you, “Miss Park, everything is finished. I cleaned and skimmed your pool as well as added more salt into it to restabilize the ph levels. If there’s nothing else you need, I can see myself out. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!”

You wanted to heave a sigh of relief as you were able to get out your entire speech and not get distracted by the tempting pillows of softness that called to you. But before you could continue patting yourself on the back for not being a perv, Jihyo pursed her lips in thought before an idea came to mind.

She reached to the table beside her as she retrieved a bottle of sun tan oil, “Actually, there may be something you can help me with.” You nodded, “I need help applying this oil and you seem like such a nice person. I’m just trying to even out my tan lines and I can’t seem to do it properly. Would you mind doing it for me?”

You felt like your head was spinning with lust, “Yeah, I guess, I can.” The brunette’s smile was practically predatory once she heard your consent. She was finally able to set the plan she had been thinking of for the last hour and a half into motion.

“Since you’re new and all, I was hoping I could give you a better perspective on Guri. A chance to get a more…hands on experience.” As the words left Jihyo’s mouth, she released the hold she had at the front of her bikini top as she let it drop and slide off her arms.

Your eyes felt like you were going to bug out of your skull as you stared at the woman’s bare breasts. They were enormous and when she sat back on the lounge chair, they bounced slightly as they settled back into place after being jostled. You swallowed hard as all you could do was stare, “Shit, you’re beautiful.”

Jihyo giggled at the compliment as she reached down for the oil, holding up the bottle in front of you, “Care to help me, jagiya? I can’t do it properly myself.” There was a hint of a pout in her voice as you took it from her, you were very much in shock about everything that was happening as you uncapped the bottle and began drizzling the liquid onto the brunette’s chest. “That’s it, don’t be shy.”

You preened at the words that fell from the older woman’s lips as you watched the oil drip down the pillowy mountains of titty flesh. You reached a tentative hand up to rub the oil into her skin but stopped, unsure if this was what she really wanted you to do. Jihyo smirked as she grabbed your hand and placed it firmly on her breast, “Rub it in please.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the pliant flesh beneath your hand. Rubbing the oil over the singer’s warm skin as you kneaded her breasts. Your movements became more bold as you chanced a pinch to her left nipple, eliciting a soft moan from your client as she pressed her chest closer to you. The tent at the front of your swim shorts was extremely obvious as the outline of your dick stood out proudly. You were painfully hard as you continued to spread the oil all over Jihyo’s chest while fondling her tits, ‘This can’t be fucking real. Whatever I did to deserve this, thank you Universe!’ You mused to yourself as you realized the brunette had been staring at you.

“Why don’t I get you now, yeah?” You quirked an eyebrow in confusion as you paused from rubbing the oil onto the older woman’s taught stomach.

“What do you mean?” Jihyo had a predatory gleam in her eyes as she urged you to stand, she followed suit as her breasts swayed with the movement.

“I think you could use some oil too. It would look just delectable on you.” Before you could speak, Jihyo poured a healthy amount into her hands and began rubbing it onto your abdomen and down your arms. The brunette bit her lip as she felt you up, her eyes drifting down to see a very obvious bulge. You followed her gaze as you suddenly felt self-conscious.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t warn you. I have a…” But before you could continue Jihyo sank to her knees as she kissed the tip of your dick beneath the swim trunks.

“Don’t apologize for who you are. Ever.” The comment was incredibly endearing as your felt your heart grow light.

‘This woman really is amazing.’

It didn’t take long for Jihyo to bring you back to the present as she hooked her fingers into the shorts, “May I?”

It was now your turn to bite your lip as you nodded, “Please.”

In a slow and practiced motion, Jihyo began pulling down your swim trunks. She hit a snag around your erect cock before she was able to get the tight material around it and was shocked to see the sheer size of it in the open. The brunette made quick work of the shorts as you stepped out of them and kicked it away, leaving the singer to stare at your impressive length. You were both long and thick making you the perfect combination as your dick flexed up to your stomach.

“Wow, you’re the biggest I’ve ever seen.” Jihyo smiled as she reached a hand up to begin stroking your cock, “You just keep getting better and better.”

You wanted to respond but your mind was a bit more preoccupied with the sight of Park Jihyo on her knees as she stroked your dick. Opting for a nod and pleased hum.

The brunette leaned forward as she placed a kiss to your balls, moving up so she could lick a long line up the underside of your shaft to the dribbling head. The slightly salty taste of your precum coated her tongue as your hand found its way into her hair, tangling her locks in between your fingers. Jihyo took the tip of your cock into her mouth and she felt a spurt of cum as you groaned at the sudden heat around you, but before she could work down more of your impressive length she felt her head jerk forward as you pulled her closer to your groin.

More cock than she could handle was suddenly filling her mouth as the head of your length hit the back of throat and she gagged. And just as quickly as you had pushed her down on your cock, you pulled her off just as fast as apologies fell from your lips. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be that rough with you, your mouth just feels really g….”

Before you could apologize further, Jihyo took you back into her mouth, but this time at her own pace. You moaned aloud as you felt her throat muscle contract as she took you all the way to the root, pulling back as she ran her tongue along the underside of your shaft. In an attempt to not choke the brunette a second time, you refrained from pulling at her hair as you carded your fingers through it instead. Thrusting forward every so often to chase the warmth that was being pulled off of you.

The head of your dick began leaking in a steady stream as you felt the coil in your abdomen tighten at how close you were to cumming. you let out a guttural moan, “Of fuck, Jihyo-ssi, I’m gonna cum.”

But just as the words left your mouth, the brunette completely pulled off of your length as a few ropes of cum shot out onto the singer’s face. You groaned as your balls clenched but you were left completely unsatisfied without any further stimulation, causing the tightening in your stomach to worsen. “Wh..what the h…hell?”

The ruined orgasm was borderline painful as your abdominal muscles grew taught but there was nothing else to combat the intense feeling. You groaned as you looked down to see your shaft even harder than before as it still rested stiffly against your stomach. But your heart seemed to stop at the view before you, Park Jihyo with lines of your cum on her face. She wore a very proud smirk as you panted, “I’m sorry, Y/N-ah, did that hurt?”

The brunette’s voice was full of false sympathy as she mocked you, which in turn pissed you off further. You growled lowly as you gripped her hair in your fist and pulled Jihyo to stand, still using her hair to guide the forceful movements as you brought her close to your face. “You must think you’re so clever. You’re gonna pay for that, sweetheart.”

Jihyo stared up to meet your eyes, accepting the challenge. “Oh, I’d love to see you try.” You pulled her into a rough kiss, void of the sweetness she had expected from you as teeth clashed and tongues wrestled for dominance. And Jihyo had to admit, she had never been more turned on in her life.

No matter what she threw at you, you gave it back to her ten fold, which was how she found herself hovering over your mouth. Her bikini bottoms completely soaked through, but you didn’t even bother to remove them as you pulled them to the side and licked a strip up the center of her pussy. Jihyo moaned at the feeling as she pressed lower trying to get more friction against her weeping folds.

You were arguably too horny to tease and you were quickly getting over your anger due to the ruined orgasm since the taste of the brunette on your tongue was just too enticing to abstain from. It had a sweet yet tangy flavor that you couldn’t get enough of as you ran the flat of your tongue almost to her clit, but stopped at the second, you weren’t letting her off the hook that easily.

But Jihyo was quick with her wits as she bucked forward trying to feel more of your tongue, “How about I give you a true taste of Guri?”

You laughed slightly, “Are you always this cheesy when you’re having sex or is this just for my benefit?” You didn’t give her a chance to respond as your tongue teased at her entrance, taking in more of her leaking arousal. But before you could dive deeper into the singer’s depths you pulled away to place a kiss to her inner thigh, “But, ever since I’ve gotten here, I feel like I’m living in a poorly written porn script.”

To her benefit, Jihyo had the humility to laugh as a genuine smile broke out onto her lips. “Well I’m disappointed that my seduction came off as poorly written porn. Was it really that bad?”

“To be fair, when you wanted me to touch your boobs you phrased it as a ‘hands on experience’.” You chuckled as you craned your neck to suck on her clit briefly, “I’ll give you the benefit of a doubt that it came off as cheesy rather than poorly written porn.”

Jihyo hummed as she lost focus on the conversation as she relished in the feeling of her clit getting the attention it so desperately craved, “I can accept that. But can we save the pillow talk for after, I think there are more pressing matters at the moment.”

You chuckled as you kissed her clit, “I agree. Why don’t you ride me, jagi, I want to see those beautiful tits bounce for me. Least you could do since you spilled oil all over me.”

The brunette smirked as she wiggled her way out of her bikini bottoms so that the two were completely naked, “I can definitely get on top of that idea and get on top of you as well.”

You both laughed out loud but your laughing ceased as Jihyo sank down on your cock. The feeling of being stretched open made the singer moan loudly as the rippling heat around your dick made you groan as one of your hands shot to hold onto Jihyo’s hip, guiding her down till you bottomed out inside of her. She breathed through her nose as she felt her inner walls adjust to the stretch, it had been awhile since she had been with anyone and her fingers were never this thick or this deep inside of her.

The brunette let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as she slowly began to rise up from atop of your cock till only the tip remained inside of her then dropped down. Eliciting a moan from both of you as pleasure crawled up your spines. Jihyo bounced on your lap as your dick had enough curve to it to rub against the spot inside of her that made her see stars when she pulled out at just the right angle. Your eyes were transfixed on her wobbling tits as an unashamed look of lust adorned your face.

You even reached the hand that hadn’t found purchase on the brunette’s hip to continue squeezing and teasing her breasts. “Shit, just like that, good girl. You’re taking me so well.”

Jihyo’s breathing came out in clipped pants as she moved faster, the sound of her skin slapping against your’s made her blush as loud moans fell from her mouth. “God, only for you. You're filling me up so much.”

The singer sounded breathless as she began adding in the occasional rock of her hips to elicit more pleasure against her clit. You groaned beneath her as the hot and tight walls of Jihyo’s pussy gripped your shaft firmly, massaging it in a way that sent your head spinning. Everything felt amazing and the fact that you were even more pent up from the very unsatisfying release from before didn’t help. You felt dangerously close to the edge as you began thrusting up to meet Jihyo’s hips.

“Fucking shit, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum!” Your voice was strained as the idol’s inner walls tightened even more around you. There was only so much more of this that you could take before you were at the end of your wits.

“Cum inside, I’m on the pill. I’m almost there!” Jihyo’s voice raised an octave as her thrusts became a blur of short up and down movements. Not wanting to part from you for long as she reached a hand down to rub at her clit.

The sight of the woman atop you: riding you, touching herself, and her gigantic tits bouncing was enough to send you careening over the edge as you choked on a moan before feeling your abdomen contract and your balls tighten. Ropes of your cum shot deep inside of Jihyo as the feeling triggered the singer’s orgasm in turn and caused her walls to clench rhythmically around your cock.

Jihyo finally let out the scream she had been suppressing as she tilted her head back up to the sky as she came. Her release squirted out onto you ever so slightly as she felt your hot load in her womb. She sighed as her walls gave one final squeeze to your shaft after she had milked you for all you were worth. Jihyo looked down to see that your eyes had closed and a blissful smile graced your lips. She could tell you were awake, but barely.

That’s when her exhaustion seemed to hit her as well, she didn’t bother moving too much as she leaned forward to rest her body atop of yours. She could feel your dick softening a little inside of her as she placed lazy kisses on your neck, “That was amazing.”

You had started tracing random patterns on her naked back that she found oddly soothing, “I think amazing might be an understatement.”

-

Finally, you two broke the scene that the two of you had built as you wrapped your arms around your girlfriend. Placing a kiss to the crown of her head, “Thank you for doing this with me. I know a scene like this was a little weird.”

Jihyo grinned as she cuddled closer to you, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, jagiya. I haven’t cum that hard in a long time”

You laughed slightly before a yawn cut you off, “Tell me about it. You even squirted!” The idol could practically feel the smug smile on your face as she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t get too full of yourself, Y/N-ah.” Jihyo yawned as she felt her eyes start to droop, “I’m gonna nap for a little, the whole thing really tired me out. I love you, jagi.”

You smiled as you pulled your girlfriend as close to you as humanly possible, “I love you too, Jihyo-ah.”

[stealeroflemons]

eah thing but make it FASHION aka met gala themed but I'm sunburnt and only half awake right now #30 (PART I)

SURPRISE! I'm alive and well. Mostly. I'm getting ready to leave for university so I am tireeeeed. Anyways. I know there was a lot of controversy around the met gala and that I'm extremely late in doing this, but I do want to make this post to still add some ever after high fun and to also have some fashion fun with the help of Pinterest. The theme is (with great consideration of your suggestions and of my own deliberation) "Hans Christian Dior: A Spellelebration of Fable-ous Fashion"

This mainly came from research on past met gala themed and how quite a few of them are themes after specific fashion houses or designers AND from the Thronecoming special (which is PEAK fashion in the series besides Way Too Wonderland and Spring Unsprung) where Cedar calls out Duchess for wearing a fake Hans Christian Dior dress! (note, I am trying to mainly use Christian Dior gowns/outfits for this because of the reference in Thronecoming also sorry for the blurriness)

Briar is THAT GIRL. She is flushed in hot pink looking gorgeous with about every inch of her glittering with body shimmer, glitter hairspray, and shiny shiny jewels. I like to think that instead of the gold detailing in the pictures it would be silver and that the closer embellishments would be rose detailing to honor her usual aesthetic and legacy

Faybelle is serving every bit of whimsy and darkness. Her accessories and the layers of her dress and even her hair seem to be alive with lightning crackling around. Her wings are extra pretty and equally terrifying with silver thorn adornments that are magically light enough to not weigh her down

Ashlynn's look was partially inspired by Lady Tremaine's silhouettes in the lie action Cinderella while still maintaining the color palette of her usual outfits. Her look combines the beauty of the enchanted forest and foliage and the classy, fine china patterns you'd see in a royal palace. She is absolutely radiant and of course while walking up the steps of the Met, she loses a slipper ;)

Duchess has taken a slightly different approach to her usual fluffy-tulle outfits and gone for more of a paper swan look. The sharp angles provide a dangerous look to her, contrasting the soft purple accents and the feather headpieces she wears. She seems to float on air and she walks through the crowds of people in her gown, a true picture of elegance and grace with a touch of darkness to her

The one and only Apple White is DRAMATIC. HUGE HAIR. BOLD RED MAKEUP. EXTREME DRESS SILHOUETTE. THE MOST ROYAL JEWELRY YOU CAN FIND. She looks like something out of an editorial magazine on royalty. This entire look is a more elevated look of her daily wear, and she wears it with grace and sophistication

Darling looks so DARLING! I do think the gold on the dress would be swapped out for silver and that the pearls would be more pink-y toned so it would match the jewels in your basic outfit (same with other accessories). She's sticking with the sort of rococo hair that she usually has because it's iconic let's be honest. I was debating on giving her a more armored look but for this I wanted to embrace her softer and delicate look

Rosabella looks like a French aristocrat from an old Hollywood movie in my mind for an event like this. Nevertheless any fur details are faux, after all our girl is still an animal activist (slay queen). I think the dusty gold-brown tone of the dress with the deep red accents and jewelry pays a nice homage to not only her day to day look but to Belle's iconic yellow dress. I also feel like her and Briar would contrast well because Briar is very bright and vibrant in her look and Rosabella is more muted and understated which I like a lot

anways I'll make a part 2 eventually, I have all the collages made I just need to create a post and write descriptions. But for now I'm gonna go back to packing and planning for uni and I'll get back to y'all when I can (and hopefully my fanfictions, who now haunt me in my dreams)

[at4zxx]

RED HEADCANONS

Red!Hearts x fem!reader

Genre: fluff💖

warnings: not proof read guys, English is my second language 😭

having a crush ⬇️⬇️

more jealous than usual

Wants to talk to you more often

Stares at you in class or training.

If you come I class late, she just glares at you in disappointment. Meanwhile shes RELIEVED.

will probably wait for you to ask her first, but she’s dropping hints like😵‍💫

“the sky is beautiful, right??”

“wanna go see a movie sometime..?”

“We could- work together in the exam?”

LIKEE- you know she likes you, Chloe told you but you just wanna tease the poor soul 😭😭

After a while she ends up confessing, in the most messiest way ever.

GRAFFITI ON THE SCHOOL WALLS OF HEARTS ❤️

she doesn’t exactly care if you talk to people, but if they tell you that they like you-

pulling you by the arm like-

“She’s with me, thank you.”

CONFESSIONS WHEN SHE PULLS YOU INTO THE HALLWAY.

when you tell her you like her too she’s quite flabbergasted.

this is her ➡️ 😧‼️

IN A RELATIONSHIP💕⬇️⬇️

hand holding IS A MUST.

She wouldn’t really want you to go back to her palace because well- her mom (if she didn’t turn nice)

but if we’re talking after- MAYBE? I think red would find it so awkward since her mom had never wanted her to date.

SPEAKING OF, your her first gf congrats!

First date preferences are probably at the enchanted lake (your idea)

Asking her if she wants to swim ( SHE CAN SWIM- but she prefers not to)

you drag her in anyways, and her makeup is ruined 😞😞

found it fun though-

Afterwards you guy’s probably go to the village festival in Auradon, watching the fireworks

Probably her first time ever seeing something so colourful besides just the normal colours, Red, Black & white.

She then mentions how she’s never had her first kiss 😵‍💫

Gently cupping her face with the palm of your hands. You kiss her for the first time.

It feels like sparks, fireworks exploding in her body.

after a moment, you pull away. And she’s stunned. The same face you saw when you accepted to be her girlfriend.

“what a beauty.”

OMG KYLIE IS JUST SO GORGEOUS AAAA😍😍