#shone a rainbow light on

[dustedmagazine]

Setting — Shone a Rainbow Light On (Paradise of Bachelors)

Photo by Will Warasila

Setting is a new collaborative project from three mainstays of psychedelic drone. Nathan Bowles of Pelt and Black Twig Pickers, Jaime Fennelly of Mind Over Mirrors and Joe Westerlund of Califone, Sylvan Esso and Jake Xerxes Fussell join force for four extended improvisations which fall closer to Fennelly’s ecstatic harmonium meditations than the more rustic, Americana-touching forms Bowles and Westerlund have primarily been associated with.

A drone can be a spiritual experience—and making one together can bring disparate musicians together. It requires open ears and unhurried patience, a willingness to notice small gradations in tone, an attention to one another. Thus the first cut, “We Center,” is, on its surface, the most static of the four, the least varied with the smallest amount of percussive energy. And yet, it also feels very necessary, a primordial soup out of which all the other cuts come. The long questioning tones (likely synthesizer, but who really knows?) lift out of the liquid drone like aquarian dinosaurs, blinking slowly before diving back down. The drums natter subliminally between lapping, washing tones. The piece bubbles with possibility, as the three players find a way of interacting that honors stillness.

“Zoetropics” toys more overtly with melody, weaving prickly percussive stringed instruments into an oncoming rush of forward motion. It’s the single, at least as far as albums like this have singles, and it moves and cavorts and glistens. It sounds a bit like Oren Ambarchi’s Shebang, as shimmering auras lift out of massed strummed and plucked sounds; the dots connect, the pixels form into rainbows. “A Sun Harp,” which follows, is equally, pizzicato, equally lovely, with the unearthly twang of zither, the trebly purity of high piano notes, the agitated patter of drums coalescing in airy, light-filled beauty.

It all comes to a head in “Fog Glossaries,” a moody landscape where tones loom up out of obscurity, surge, vibrate and dissipate, much like objects in thick mist. A bell rings out at widely spaced intervals, cutting through a haze of overtones, and the overall affect is elegiac and beautiful. You could say that not much happens in Shone a Rainbow Light On, that it moves slowly and doesn’t progress in any linear way, but that would be missing out on the blessed stillness and calm that lives in these tracks.

Jennifer Kelly

[the-californicationist]

Bone Deep

AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex

Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long. 

You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all. 

It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible. 

John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house. 

You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three. 

“John?” You called out.

There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door. 

You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen. 

“John.”

“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around. 

“John!”

“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.

“Okay,” you nodded, resigned. 

It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog. 

And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.

You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home. 

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care. 

You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall. 

“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag. 

“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”

He scoffed,

“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”

You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled, 

“You know it’s not the socks.”

The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud. 

So, you left. 

Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space. 

You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.

John: hey

You: hey

John: can i call

You: one sec

You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.

You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale. 

But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.  

“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort. 

Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,

“I’ve been a proper arse.”

You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,

“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it. 

“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”

You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,

“You are coming home, right?”

You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,

“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”

“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”

The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer. 

The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat. 

“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house. 

The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again. 

When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug. 

You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek. 

Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone, 

“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”

You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite. 

“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying. 

He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass. 

“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”

His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them. 

“I swear…” 

He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.

“I swear…” 

You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again. 

“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses. 

“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.

Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him. 

Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss. 

He groaned,

“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”

You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,

“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”

He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses, 

“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”

You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it, 

“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”

As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm. 

“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected. 

Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will. 

However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell. 

Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina. 

You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces. 

“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.

“Can we sit?”

“C’mere.”

John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst. 

He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again. 

He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,

“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”

“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. 

You saw the surprise dance through his expression. 

“You sure?”

You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.

“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd. 

Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him. 

He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements. 

Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.

You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave. 

“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful. 

“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun. 

[milkbobatyun]

dark sunrise

pairing: yandere!sunday x reader

genre: angstober, events, yandere

summary: the sun rises again, but are you still who you are?

word count: 746

C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : yandere behaviour, manipulation, fear, stockholm syndrome

a/n: my attempt at writing about stockholm syndrome. if you or someone you know has experienced or is experiencing this, please do seek the right professional help. i will make it clear that IN NO WAY am i romanticising this, just thought it would fit in well with the scenario.

the golden sun’s warm rays smiled upon your face through the glass, refracting rays of rainbows across the room.

the breeze blew in from the open windows, its cool fingers twisting through your hair, dancing carelessly through the curtains of your bedposts.

every day, you wished you could be as free as the wind, blowing along without a care in the world. yet here you were, entrapped on the bed, the fracture in your ankle anchoring you down, reliant on sunday to meet your daily needs.

need water? simply a word and he would have it by your side, feeding it to you sip by sip. you didn’t need to lift a finger. wanted some comfort food? sunday was already ordering the maids to inform the chef. he knew you so well, he had everything arranged before you even opened your mouth.

sunday was trying to curry your favour and manipulate you. sunday was understanding of you, he knew you like the palm of his hand.

like a bird courting its mate, sunday brought you many little gifts and trinkets. a shiny necklace today, a multifaceted jewel the next.

it amused you to see his wings flap up with excitement and anticipation as he watched your every little reaction. somehow, in the shimmering light of sun that haloed his figure, he seemed more like an angel sent from above than a devil of your nightmares. perhaps sunday wasn’t truly evil, just misunderstood.

sunday’s comforting smile and hold warmed your heart, making it flutter in your chest. but for an instant, you caught something more twisted behind his eyes, something that made your blood run cold.

wait. something wasn’t right. that isn’t true, sunday was keeping you away from your loved ones. your heart was warmed by his thoughtful gifts, but underneath, something ominous gnawed at your consciousness. a faint whisper echoed in your mind: you need to escape. without a second thought, you squashed the vexing voice, casting it to the back of your mind

sunday was evil sunday was your god, your saviour.

in a state of boredom, when your injuries allowed you, you began to explore through your bedroom, shuffling through drawers and reading your old diaries.

you were scandalised to find a passage you had written in your earlier days, the words squiggling and shaking across the page like worms,.

someone please come and save me soon. i’m scared. my arm still hurts from yesterday when he twisted it because i didn’t follow his instructions, my cheek still swollen from when he slapped me for talking to a bystander. i’m struggling to conceal the bruises on my neck from—

the words on the page merge into one large ink blot that soaks into the page. fear and anxiety had rendered your writing useless, your clumsiness spilling over onto the page in the form of black ink.

you were horrified by what you had written early in your days of captivity misunderstood days, when you were still learning to be obedient. ripping out the page, shame flushed through you.

how dare you think such thoughts? wishing to be free? rebellious. sunday was doing these things for your own good. he cared for you.

bringing the page up to the candle, you watched the paper wither and smoulder away, hiding the evidence of your criminal thoughts.

the moon shone its milky light into the room, watching over you as you slept peacefully, dreaming of a warm spring where you sat under the shade of a tree, surrounded by blooming flowers, cradled in sunday’s warmth.

sunday was a wolf in a sheep’s clothing. sunday is misunderstood, that’s how he expresses his love for me.

the crimson sun rose, its scarlet light spilling across the manor that held you captive kept you safe from the dangerous world, like an ocean of blood. you stared mindlessly out the window, forehead leaning on the cool glass.

you knew it was all wrong, upside down and back to front. the gifts, the isolation, yet every time that thought came close to bursting from its cage, you quashed down the rebellious thoughts of leaving. sunday’s gentle touch kept you in the palm of his hand, a prisoner in a golden cage. how could you doubt, even for a minute, that sunday was causing you harm? sunday was dangerous, you needed to leave as soon as possible. sunday understands and cares for me more than anyone else. sunday was warm, like home.

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[pit-and-the-pen]

Birthday Present

Birthday fic for @sarawritestories.

Summary: Cassian was gone during your birthday and shows up while you’re at work to make up for it. 

Warnings: Smut (18+), P in v, Oral (f/m receiving), spit, collars/leash, fingering. 

WC: 4.1k

This was probably the longest you had been separated from Cassian since the mating bond had snapped. You weren’t mad per say but you missed your mate like crazy. Not to mention that he had missed your birthday three days ago. You knew that he had wanted to be there, he made sure to top the previous year's celebration every time. And he always managed to deliver. Somehow after being mated for more than fifty years, he had never disappointed. But this year he was helping finally start to train the females in Windhaven. Something that you knew he had been fighting for for so long, how could you be mad at him for being there when that’s what was keeping him away.

Your birthday party was amazing nonetheless. Cassian had left detailed instructions for Nesta and Gwen as to how the party would go. He made sure to order your favorite foods well in advance, even having your present delivered first thing in the morning along with a bouquet of pink and white roses that was so large it took two people to deliver it. It filled the house with the scent of roses. The smell almost makes up for the lack of your favorite smell in the whole world, that citrus and salt smell that always seemed to accompany Cassian. The other part of your gift was a ruby choker with a piece of his siphon carved into the same shape as the diamond on your wedding band. You had nearly cried when you opened the box and had sent the image of you wearing it to your mate and the satisfied rush of lust you received back only proved how much he liked it too. You wish he had been there when you opened it, wish you could have shown him just how much you appreciated the piece of him that you now wore around your neck. Everyone already damn well knew who your mate was but the weight of it around your neck served as a warm reminder for you. 

You rolled out of bed when your alarm went off, your mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in it. Nesta, Gwen and Elain had made sure that you properly celebrated your birthday last night. The empty bottles of wine and some clear liquor you didn't bother asking the name of proved as much. You gulped down the glass of water you had the sense to place out the night before and began to get dressed for the day. 

You picked one of your favorite skirts. Long by fae standards, nearly brushing your calf. A swirling floral pattern offset the dark green of the background. You tucked in the long sleeved cream sweater and gave a small twirl in the mirror, watching the way the skirt fanned out around you as you did so. Your hair was quickly thrown into a high ponytail and you made sure to pull the necklace out from the high neck of the sweater. The charm just visible. 

Quickly grabbing a slice of toast and some left over fruit from last night, you grabbed your bag and walked out the door. The slight chill in the morning air made you thankful for the sweater but you knew by the time the sun rose you would be sweating. The sound of your shoes hitting the cobblestoned street was the only sound that filled the air. You loved these quiet moments in the early morning. It gave you time to really soak in the beauty of Velaris. The way the rainbow street near your little shop shone in the faint rays of sunlight. The way the city itself seemed to hum with the sleeping breaths of its inhabitants. It was one of your favorite times to be out. You fished around in your bag for the ring of keys to unlock the store and stood in the doorway as you waited for the flights to kick on.

 You loved the shop with all of your heart. It had been a mating present from Rhys. Your very own book store. The dark wood and dim lights made it seem so cozy. Cozy chairs and booths would be  full of readers or writers thanks to the little cafe you had thought to add. Plus it had some of the best pastries in all of Velrais, so you’ve been told. 

You switched the books on display for the day, putting your most recent read on the table next to a few new releases you had just gotten at the end of the day yesterday. Swirling letters were drawn on the sign next to them along with a small doddle to tell a little bit about the book and then you were ready to open the store, flipping the small “open” sign that Feyre had painted for you. You pulled the book you started last night out of your bag and sat down as you waited for people to start coming in.

The day seemed to drag by. It was relatively slow, only a few people coming in and out throughout the day. A few of your regulars sat in the cafe area, the soft sound of pens on paper and book pages turning became a gentle white noise that was starting to make your eyes heavy. You decided to get up to do something so you wouldn’t fall asleep.

You sighed heavily as you stacked another book on the shelf, rearranging the shop for the third time that month. You really did miss Cassian. The store seemed just a little too empty without him. He would always stop by to bring you lunch because he knows that you get so caught up in whatever task you were doing that day that you would forget otherwise. Sometimes he would just spend hours at the small high top table yapping away at whatever crossed his mind and you would have a smile on your face for the rest of the day. 

Eventually the last of the customers packed up, calling their goodbyes as they walked out of the door.  You sent your one cafe worker, Flora home for the day when they left. The sun was still high in the sky but you just wanted to be home. Cassian would be home later today and you wanted the time to clean up a little bit. Maybe make dinner after taking a nap. So you kept staking books, telling yourself you would leave once you emptied the cart next to the front counter. Too caught up to hear the front bell of the shop ring, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat. You cursed softly to yourself, you must have forgotten to lock the door. 

“Sorry we’re closed-” You turned around and a squeal left your mouth as you took in just exactly who was standing in the shop. Of course it was Cassian. His smell quickly flooded your senses and you put down the heavy book in your hand to launch yourself at him. You arms wrapped around his neck at the same time his arms wound around your waist. You buried your face into his chest as he squeezed you tighter against him. 

“You weren’t supposed to get home until later. I would have closed up earlier if I had known.” You smiled up at him, basking in his presence.. 

“I wanted to get home to you, darling. Maybe even surprise you.” He leaned down to give you a teasing kiss. “Gods I missed you” He said once he pulled away from your lips. You wanted to pout at the loss of his plush lips against yours. Suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you haven't seen him in over a week. Your cheeks started to heat as you looked into his eyes, saw that he was clearly thinking the same thing. You were just about to tell him to take you home when he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I locked the front door.” His words only stoked the fire in your stomach. His gravelly voice telling you exactly what he meant. And at that moment, you wouldn’t have cared if he had. All thoughts eddied out of your head except for the feeling of your mates skin against yours. He gave a slow kiss to the spot below your ear and a shiver ran through you. His hands go up to play with the necklace sitting just above your shirt. 

“I want to see you in this.” He gave it a slight tug, pulling your chin up with it. “Only this.” You whimpered as he forced you to look him in the eye. Fidgeting under his heated stare. “But that can wait until later. For now…” He kissed down your neck, down the little bits of exposed skin along your collarbone and started to sink down to his knees. He looked up at you, silently asking for permission as his hands started to snake up your ankles, pulling your long skirt up along with it. All it took was your little nod before he slipped your skirt down your hips entirely. He buried his face into your lace underwear, a small cry falling from your lips. His fingers hooked over the edge of the lacy fabric and began to pull them teasingly slow down your legs. He didn’t hesitate to flatten his tongue and give your fold one long swipe.

Your hand rushed out to grab the bookshelf beside you, knocking some of the covers to the floor in a loud crash. The giggle that you let out quickly turned into a moan as Cassian’s nose bumped your clit. The free hand tangled itself in his pulled back hair, loosening some of the strand from the bun. His response was sinking his teeth into the flesh at your tight. Your fingers harshly yanking at long locks. He licked teasingly over the mark his mouth had left. 

“God I love these.” He muttered as he kneaded your plush thighs. He gave you a quick glance before he shoved his face back into your weeping cunt. Rough hands pulling your hips closer to his relentless mouth, arms nearly supporting all of your weight like it was nothing to him. The angle gave you a good look at the muscles in his back as they flexed as he moved his head, his wings pulled in tight to avoid the shelves of books. You bit your fingers to hold back the string of moans falling from your lips. His teeth scraped lightly over your clit and you were bucking away from his mouth. Suddenly too much but that didn’t stop him. He whimpered as he pulled your hips closer again. The soft grunts leaving his mouth and the way his tongue was licking into your hole had you barrling over the edge before you could even think to tell him. You screamed around your fingers, head falling back against the bookshelf you were now completely leaning against. Cassian is still licking you through your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered open and you nearly jumped when you felt a finger at your entrance. He was grinning up at you, chin shiny with your arousal. His gaze didn’t leave yours as he sunk two fingers in, palm resting perfectly on your clit. 

“Look at the way you suck my fingers in. So good for me.” He said into the skin of your thighs as he started to pump those fingers in and out of you. You squirmed against his fingers, hip twisting as he started to speed us his motions. He grabbed one of your legs and slung it over his shoulder, opening you up wider for him. Your hand was doing nothing to conceal the squeals and high pitched moans leaving your mouth. So you just let them fall freely. 

“Cassian…Fuck. Please” You babbled, not entirely sure what you were begging for. For more, for him to stop, for him to speed up. You had no clue but you knew that you were going to explode if he wasn’t inside of you right this minute. His fingers didn’t slow down for a second, the veins in his arm starting to pop out as he flexed at the speed. Despite your brain screaming otherwise, your hand reached down to his wrist. He stilled instantly. Eyes suddenly full of concern. 

You only pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, hands going to undo his belt. 

“Darling. Hold on-” His words died off with a small whine as your hand wrapped around his hardened length. 

“No. Cassian I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now.” Your voice was breathy and shaky. The need to have your mate inside you is too strong all of the sudden. 

“I could get you home in-”

“Please. Need you now.” You begged, moving your hand up and down, squeezing when you reached the base. His hips bucked and a small huff left his lips. 

“I wanted to make it special since it was your birthday but…fuck. I warned you, princess.” He said, head leaning against yours as he lightly brushed your hand away. He pushed his pants down to let his cock fully spring out. Despite being mated to him for so long, his cock always made you balk just a little. The length so thick your fingers just barely touched when you wrapped your hand around it. “Jump.” Was all he said as his hands went to cup the back of your thighs. You did so with a practiced ease. Your ankles wrapping around his back as he lined himself up with your dripping folds. You both hissed as his tip nudged into you. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, slamming all the way in. His pace was relentless. The pace of his thrusts caused the bookshelf to rattle against the wall. Your mouth parted into a perfect o shape. Cassian just squeezed your jaw, opening your mouth up further for him to place a claiming kiss on your lips. The kiss was just as messy as his strokes, his tongue licking into your mouth. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his lips. A perfect mixture of the two of you. You wrapped your legs around him tighter, using it as leverage to pull him into you. He growled into the kiss, teeth digging into your lower lip. Your back arched into his chest and his hand moved from your jaw to wrap around your ponytail. He yanked on the hair, tipping your head further back, effectively pinning you into place. 

“Cas. Cas please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” His teeth nip your earlobe right as his fingers come to rub tight circles on your clit. You are a goner. Your legs twitch against his back, his name pouring past your lips as he fucks your through your orgasm. His thrusts slow down, becoming languid strokes as he nears his own high. Your lips are all over him. Trailing exhausted kisses to his jaw, hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt that somehow managed to stay on during your actions. He stilled inside of you as you felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten before the warm rush of his cum filled you. His head dipped into the crook of your neck before you were whispering into his ear.

“Take me home right now.” And he didn’t need to be told twice. Before you could even process it, he had your skirt buttoned back at your waist. Underwear slid back up your legs. Not a single hair was out of place as he scooped you up in his arms and flew you back to your apartment. 

------

The door had barely closed behind before your lips attached to his. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him down to you. You felt the door shudder behind you as he pushed your back against it. Both of your hands were everywhere. Clothes peeled off with no regard for where they ended up. 

“I never got to show you the best part of your present. Stay here.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before walking over to his bedside table and grabbing a small fabric pouch. He walked back over to you and slowly pulled out the contents of the bag. A long silver chain with a leather loop on the end. Your eyes widened as you placed two and two together. 

“Only if you want to. That’s why I wanted-”

“Yes.” You blurted out. A blush took over your face but he only smiled at you. 

“Then on your knees, darling.” He was suddenly towering over you and you loved every second of it. The carpet was soft under your knees and you sunk down. Your hands folded onto your thighs and your chin tilted up to look at him. He sucked in a heavy breath as your eyes met. A tender hand reached out to cup under your chin, tilting your chin further back and he crouched down to hook the chain into the large ring holding the piece of his siphon. You felt the added weight and goosebumps rose to your skin as he let the cold metal lay against your face. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Good.” Your mouth felt so heavy. 

“Safe sign?” 

“Two taps to slow down, three to stop.” You didn’t hesitate to answer, need rushing through you as he stood back up. His length right at your eye line. You felt saliva pool in your mouth. 

He gave the leash a gentle tug, pulling your head back ever so slightly. 

“Open.” You did immediately. But instead of his cock he leaned down again, hand squeezing your jaw open wider, and you felt his spit enter your mouth. You couldn’t even process the way it made your stomach clench before he was thrusting into your mouth. His spit makes his cock glide easily against your tongue. You kept your jaw lax, waiting for the command to close your lips around him. This was something you and Cassian had discussed a number of times. And it was even better than you imagined it could have been. 

“Suck sweetheart. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” And you did. You wrapped your lips around his thick length. Reveling in the weight of it against your tongue. A moan built in the back of your throat and was choked off with a sharp tug of the leash. He slipped all the way to the back of your throat. Thanks to years of practice, you took him with ease. He released some of the tension on the chain and you slid back, only for him to repeat the action again and again. Your cheeks were on fire at this point. Tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. The wonderful fuzzy feeling in your head told you just how hard he was fucking your mouth. You didn’t want it to end. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was too much. The burn between your thighs is too much to ignore. One of your hands snuck its way between your thighs and you had just slipped a finger inside of your weeping hole before he tugged the leash back. You whined at the feeling of his cum against your fingers.

“Fuck. Do you like my cock in your mouth that much?” He gritted out. A long string of spit connecting from your lips to his glistening member. You didn’t take your eyes off of it as you nodded your head. Nor did you stop the motion of your fingers.

“Words.” He tugged the leash up to make you look at him.  

“Yes sir. I love it.” He shuddered at your words. As he took in your blown wide pupils, his cock twitched and you surged forward to wrap your lips around it again but he held tight onto the chain. 

“Get on the bed.” He ordered and you pulled your fingers out of yourself slowly, feeling your walls clench around nothing. He pulled you up to your feet, a calloused hand resting under your arm as he let you get your feet underneath you. He tugged you over to the bed and helped you climb onto the bed. You were about to flip onto your back but a strong arm wrapped around your waist stopped you. 

“Hands and knees.” He whispered into your ear. You felt a wave of slick coat your thighs as you arched your back for him. His hands rubbed up the back of your thighs, landing on your ass. You pushed back into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hands on your skin. He reached a hand between your legs and shoved a single finger into you. Your arms collapsed underneath you as he immediately found that spot inside of you. Your hips start to move on their own and you felt a tug on the leash, forcing you up onto your elbow again. You back arching even more as he held all your weight on that single chain. You panted as his fingers slowly stroked inside of you. 

“Are you ready for me, sweet girl?” 

“Yes. Please sir.” The words split off of your tongue and he was thrusting into you. The leash held you in place as he pounded into you. The sound of his hips hitting your ass filled the room. You could feel the way your thighs recoiled against the torturous pace. You were held in place, hips unable to push back, head held in the air. You reached a hand back, needing to feel your mate to ground you. He quickly intertwined your fingers, holding your hand. The gentleness of the action is a vast contrast to the way his trust speeds up. You were jolted forward with each frenzied push of his hips. You could feel every inch of him pushing your walls apart. You writhed under him, muscles shaking as you fought to keep yourself up. You gave a particularly hard jerk and you felt the tension on the leash drop and your face was against the pillow. You heard the sound of the chain hitting the bed under you and Cassian wrapped both of his hands around your thighs. He used the new position to pull you against him in time with his thrusts. Loud mewls being pulled from your lips. You were completely drunk on the feeling of him inside of you as you felt that knot build in you. It felt different from earlier. You struggled to get out the words to let Cassian know, but he always knew. He knew your body better than you at this point. He glided a hand over your stomach, pressing down on the soft flesh right above where he was inside you. The pressure had you screaming his name as your vision went white. You felt your release drip down your thighs, felt the way in leaked down around him. Cassian cursed before he whined above you. 

“Look at you darling. You squirted for me.” His thrusts did not falter in the slightest. The lewd sounds of your wetness filled the room as you hummed against the pillow. Utterly fucked out. His pace stuttered once, twice and then a carnal growl left his lips as his hips stilled. You felt him empty himself inside of you. Staying fully sheathed inside of you as shudders wracked through his body. His hands were everywhere then. Rubbing all over your back, over your legs. He eventually pulled out of you and pulled you against his chest. 

Quick kisses were peppered all over your face as his hand went to detach the leash from your necklace. You gave your neck a quick roll as the added weight was removed. His hands instantly come up to rub any added tension. He stepped out of the room long enough to grab a wet wash cloth and gently clean between your legs. Giving you a small kiss when you jumped from the additional stimulation. He threw the washcloth somewhere in the room before he pulled you into his arms again.

He laid you down on the bed, placing you on his chest. His hands are still rubbing small circles all over your skin. The perfect amount of pressure to bring you back down to earth. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against his chest. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Happy birthday, darling.” was the last thing you heard before his gentle breathing lulled you to sleep.

Taglist: @daycourtofficial @milswrites @ninthcircleofprythian @prythianpages @dawneternal @lady-of-tearshed @writingcroissant @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay @velariscalling @tsunami-of-tears @stormhearty @utterlyazriel @historiaxvanserra @acotarxreader @illyrianbitch @itsswritten

[painted-flag]

Snow White and the Seven Bandits - Jacaerys Velaryon.

Story I of Between the Pages: a HOTD x fairytale series.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist here. main blog masterlist here. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader .𖥔 ݁ ˖ warnings: depictions of violence and use of poison. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ word count: 11.4k .𖥔 ݁ ˖ note: this is a long one. the others in the series will be the same, perhaps even longer for a few, so would you be interested in me dividing them into parts for the future or just keep them as one text around 10k and release at once?

“It is imperative that you both exhibit the best of manners,” The voice of the kingdom's Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen, carried throughout the carriage. The wheelhouse held her, Jacaerys, and Lucerys. The youngest, Joffrey, had stayed in Kings Landing with their father Harwin - as he is the prince regent and can act in Rhaenyra’s stead. The carriage rocked as it made its way down a country road. 

“Mother, we are always on our best behaviour,” Jacaerys responded, though it seemed his attention was somewhere else in pure boredom. Lucerys, who had been sitting across from him, sent a look of doubt his way. 

“Be that as it may, the Lady of Stonehill is… sensitive. The Lord of Stonehill lost his previous wife on the birthing bed. A few years after marrying a new wife, he passed. His daughter followed him in death a month afterwards. So please, do not bring up any subjects around Lady Alicent that may offend her. It may have happened years ago, but those scars do not fade.” Rhaenyra pressed the importance of their behaviour for their visit to Castle Stonehill. 

“Yes, mother.” Lucerys gave her a wide smile, the candied lemons he was snacking on made his cheeks puff out. 

Rhaenyra leaned to the side to enter Jace’s field of vision as he stared out of one of the wheelhouse windows. She raised her brow and waited for an answer. 

Jace broke out of his trance and smiled at his mom, though it did not reach his eyes, “Yes, we will be on our best behaviour.” 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎 ༻⊰───⋅

The afternoon sun shone down on the walled-in garden of Castle Stonehill. The white quartzite with streaks of gray reflected the sunlight, casting glittered specks of light across the garden. Songbirds chirped as they flew from tree to tree. The abundance of foliage covered every open area in green. The types of flowers present filled all of the colours of a rainbow and butterflies flew from patch to patch to suck the nectar from the plants. 

It was an area of peace and safety which you frequented often when not working. After the arduous hours of work throughout the morning, you relished the break of rest you got in the afternoon. They were spent in the garden, tending to the flowers that grew there. It was the only place in the castle that your stepmother, Alicent, never touched. 

Your birth had caused your mother to pass, leaving you with your father. He was a kind and gentle man, who often spent more time with you than he should have given his lordly duties. He did all he could to raise you on his own. His gentle voice and demeanour rarely fit his appearance, for the man looked strong enough to snap a log over his thigh. Many years after the loss of his wife, he married again. The woman, Alicent, had presented herself as nothing but a dutiful and godfearing wife - a trick most wicked. While your father had lived, she treated you with kindness. It was a veiled sweetness that covered up the foul taste beneath; jealousy, want, and animosity. 

Never was there a facade more barbarous than a woman who cut another woman down. 

Upon the death of the Lord of Stonehill, Alicent’s cloaked contempt compounded. The inheritance of the castle would pass to you once you came of age, an outcome most ardently rejected by Alicent. She spared your life under the guise of benevolence, should you fake your death and take up a job as a scullery maid in the castle. It was merciful, in your stepmother’s words, to keep you alive. However, the pain of losing your father and your previous life stung the heart that lay in your chest. A torture disguised as mercy.

Through the years your resolution did not sway. There was a resilience in your kindness, both inwards and outwards, that you displayed to the world daily. What had angered you at first became nothing but a small sting. There are worse fates that people could meet. 

The day had been ordinary, inexplicably so. You found yourself in your usual routine, picking flowers and singing in your few moments of daily rest. The knife in your hand cut the stems of some of the flowers and you placed them in a wicker basket on the ground next to you. Upon turning your gaze to one of the hedges, you saw that it appeared down, as though lacking water. You put down the knife and walked over to a well placed at the centre of the garden. 

Your voice continued to carry a tune as you pulled on a rope to lower a bucket down. As you went about your way, your voice carried over the walls and into the courtyard next to the garden. 

Now, Jacaerys had not wished to go for a walk, but quickly upon their arrival at the castle he and Luke were sent away. The adults were talking, and therefore the youth must let them be. A total disgrace, in Jace’s mind, as he was set to become king and therefore felt he should be included. Alas, the stern gaze of his mother had led to him walking aimlessly in a courtyard with his brother and hoping that the day could finish. 

Jace was walking with Luke beside him and the younger brother had not stopped talking. He was explaining his thoughts on everything they had seen during their trip, waving his hands around to emphasize certain points. Jace nodded along to his observations. It was during a particular rant about the knights of the castle's armour that Jace heard a voice in the distance. The tune carried over the gentle wind, gracing his ear in sweet pleasantry. 

“Do you hear that?” Jace interrupted Luke’s rant. 

Luke halted, “What?”

“That voice… it sounds like singing.” Jace did not wait for any response before he picked up his pace, marching across the courtyard. He followed the wall to his right until the voice got louder. 

“What in the seven hells are you doing?” Luke had been confused by his brother's actions. The whole trip he had been unusually bored, often unfocused and inattentive. Now, it seemed that life was breathed into him again. 

“Don’t you hear that?” Jace looked at the thick growing vines on the wall, rapt by the singing. 

“Someone is singing, does it matter?” Luke responded, “We should go back to mother.” 

“In a moment,” Jace spoke. He stepped forward and grabbed onto one of the vines. His gaze swept across the wall as if he was unsure of his movements. Deciding not to question it, Jace tugged on the vine to test its strength. Upon finding the results he wanted, he began to climb.

When Jaceaerys reached the top, he took in the sight. It was a flower garden. Despite the countless different flowers all mixed around, it looked organized and well-maintained. The singing that he heard came from a woman by a well. She was fetching water and dressed like all the maids, in rags made of cloth. However, Jace was not a blind man and could clearly see how beautiful she was. He paused for a moment and debated on whether or not he should disturb her. His mother taught him better, that a proper man should have manners and not disturb a lady. However, there was an enchanting allure from her. 

“Well,” Luke began, “What do you see?” At that point, Lucerys had become intrigued by his brother's actions. 

“She’s beautiful,” Jace muttered. Luke was unable to hear his brother's response and watched as Jace moved to climb down the other side. He stood there, agape at his brother's impulsive nature - a trait he knew he would never get used to. 

“What an idiot.” He muttered.

You were oblivious to the pitfalls of steps coming from the other side of the well; too lost in your song to care. You were pulling the bucket of water up and had it settle on the edge when an unknown voice broke you from your daydream. 

“Hello.” It was not a very deep voice, but the timbre notes were warm, like the sun's rays on a hot day. 

“Seven Hells!” You shout in fear, the pail of water falling back down the well when the rope in your hands is dropped. The man in front of you rushed to the well wall on the other side. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He assured. 

You looked back and forth across the garden, scared that Alicent would be looking in. She did not like it when you talked to servants, and you had no idea how angry she would be if she found out you were talking to the prince.

“I am fine,” You did not wish to prolong this conversation any longer than it had to be, so you hoped a curt response would be a hint for him to leave. 

“I’m Jacaerys Velaryon,” The man spoke, “Who are you?” 

You froze at his words. He was the prince. Oh gods, you had just rudely tried to dismiss the prince. There was a moment of rushed thinking, wondering how you could get yourself out of this situation. There was no shame in running, perhaps. Maybe wish for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“Nice to meet you, my prince,” You bowed lowly and kept your gaze lowered to the stone on the ground, “I am simply a maid.” Your hands smoothed over the scratchy fabric of your gown, inwardly cringing at how underdressed you were in front of him. 

“Yes, but what is your name?” Jacaerys stepped around the well to be closer. He was dressed like a prince. Rich, finely woven fabric of dark blue matched the silver embroidered embellishments on the ends of his sleeves, around his collar, and down the front of his surcoat. The garments themselves were sure to be made by a multitude of servants, a look of divinity next to the one-colour floor-length dress you wore, which was accompanied by a light beige apron stained slightly from the dirt of cleaning and tending to the garden. 

“I must go, my prince.” You grabbed the sides of your dress and held them out as you moved down in a short curtsey. He looked confused at your insistent need to be away from him, something you were sure he was not used to considering his status. You turned and began your way to a servant's entrance at the side of the castle.

“Wait! I’m sorry if I scared you, truly,” Jace spoke up and positioned himself in front of you, “Please, I just wish to talk.” He looked as though he wanted to reach out but refrained from doing so. There was a certain glint in his eyes that was unrecognizable. You were used to the way men would threaten you with their gaze, an unsaid selfish want, but Jace did not have that look. It was something kind, an emotion you had not been on the receiving end for many years. 

“There is nothing a servant can say, my prince.” You curtseyed again - a signal of a final dismissal - and moved to the small oak door. The heavy metal of the hand felt cool under your grasp. You yanked it open and closed it behind you. The transition from the warm sun-soaked outside to the cold and damp servants' hallway gave a temporary shock to your body. 

Back in the garden, Jace stood defeated. He felt horrible for scaring a woman - something his mother would sharply scold him on if she ever found out, of which Harwin would sure to join. That was not how you were raised… to corner a woman like that, what were you thinking?

At a window far up on the castle, Lady Alicent stood looking out, having watched their meeting transpire. 

He retreated to the wall he had scaled and grasped the vines in his hand. Lugging himself up, he returned to the top of the wall to his brother standing on the other side. Lucerys was close to going for help because of how long his brother was gone. 

“What in the seven hells was your reasoning for that? Mother told us to be on our best behaviour, yet here you are scaling the walls of Lady Alicent’s castle!” Lucerys scolded as Jace dropped down next to him. 

Jace adjusted his clothing as he huffed to catch his breath from the drop, “You should have seen her, Luke.” 

“Seen who?” Luke had his arms crossed and a look of vexation moved across his face. 

“The lady in the garden.A servant. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone like that.” Jace looked sort of dazed. 

“So… you saw some random servant?” Luke said. 

“I’m telling you, there was something about her… she did not act like one.” Jace marched along the courtyard path and to the nearest entrance to the castle. Luke followed closely behind. 

“All the servants here look the same. Rags and all.” Luke dismissed his brother's whims. 

“Rags cannot hide her gentle face.” Jacaerys’ tone left little room for further resistance from his brother. 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

You sat in your room and skillfully embroidered a patch of fabric. The wooden loop was clutched between the fingers of your left hand as the right held the needle. It was a patch of vines being woven, like the ones the prince climbed to get into the garden. It had only been a day since your encounter with Jacaerys Velaryon, yet the memory clung to your mind and refused to let go. He was kind, uncharacteristically so compared to the people you have met in your life. 

The sudden opening of the door to your small chambers had you rushing to get up. The sewing fell from your lap and to the floor. You were frustrated by the sudden disturbance but swallowed it once seeing who was at your door. 

“Lady Alicent,” You bowed to your stepmother and watched as she stood in the doorframe of your room. Her judging eyes moved around the small space, cluttered with books and other belongings - the few you were allowed to keep. A look of disgust twinged at the corner of her mouth. She stepped into the room, her emerald gown glimmering in the small streak of light from the tiny window placed well above viewing height. Your room was ultimately like a cage but disguised as a servant's quarter.

“You have done well with your chores as of late,” Alicent began, “Good work should be met with rewards, I am generous that way.” Her words were short and snippy like it burdened her to even speak to you.

“Thank you, my lady.” You bit back the array of insults boiling within. 

“Ser Erryk will escort you to the woods, where you can pick wildflowers. Perhaps there may be new ones you can add to your garden.” Despite the kindness of her words, the tone dripped with false sincerity. 

“You are very kind, lady Alicent.” While there was an unsettling nature to her gaze, you were excited to go out in the woods beyond the castle. Since your father's death, you had been kept secluded in the castle walls, unable to even venture into some of the halls. 

“Yes, well, you best get ready then,” Alicent muttered before vacating the room as quickly as she could. The door was open still and a guard stood where she once was. 

“Good morrow, my lady,” Ser Erryk was perhaps the only guard in the castle who clued in on your identity. He was only a young man when your father died and his memory of your face stayed with him. When you were allowed to leave your room many years after your staged death to pose as a scullery maid, he instantly clocked into your true identity. He kept it a secret, for fear of what Alicent would do to him if she found out that he knew. 

“Hello, Ser Erryk. Let me just get my basket.” 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

You hummed away as you tended to the wildflowers on a hill. You were taken on a carriage ride deep in the woods. It had been the most excitement you ever had, for the feeling of freedom rippled through your body. Ser Erryk stood by the carriage a few feet away, watching as you went about digging up dirt and roots of pretty colours you have yet to add to your collection. 

A shadow loomed over where you sat, and your head turned to see Ser Erryk had gotten closer. He stood above you with his sword raised in the air. You did not have it in you to scream, for a wave of hopelessness crashed over your body. A sense of betrayal seeped into your bones. One of the only men who had yet to treat you with antagonism or lecherousness had hidden their evil deep below the surface. 

Ser Erryk’s arms had stopped with the sword raised. They shook ever so slightly in his frozen position. His face was twisted, pain and uncertainty carved across the skin. He stumbled back and threw the sword to the ground, curses flung from his mouth. His breathing was laboured and his chest rose up and down. 

“Run.” His gravelly voice hitched slightly. 

You paused, unsure of his display of goodwill, “What?” 

“I am sorry I ever tried, my lady. Alicent has my brother… she said she would kill him. Go, run far from here.” Ser Erryk spoke. 

“And your brother?” You questioned. 

“I will think of something,” He responded. He reached to his side and pulled out a long dagger, holding it out to her, “Take this and go, my lady.” 

You got up on shaky legs and slowly grasped the hand of the dagger. It felt awkward in your hand. There was never a point in your life where you ever held something sharp besides a kitchen knife or sewing needle. It was heavy and unnatural. 

“Thank you, Ser Erryk. I will never forget this.” You nodded to him. You turned to the woods, looking into the looming dark depths. The fear you had felt towards him had now moved to the woods. The dark trunks stood like knights on the ground, their looming presence instilling dread. Whatever nocturnal beasts lurked within the murky bowels of the forest suddenly seemed less frightful than the beast that would be waiting should you return to the castle. 

Death in the woods felt more merciful than whatever Alicent would do to you. 

Steeling your emotions, you surged forward. Your jogged movements quickly picked up to a steady pace. You leapt over each root and bush in your way. There was no path you followed, only faith to guide you from this terror. The trees surrounding you morphed into figures like monsters. The winding branches twisted around and appeared as hands reaching out to grab her. 

Your feet carried you beyond the winding hills and scattered foliage. Tears stung at your cheeks as the cool wind dried the saltwater on your face. What felt like hours, but had only been a single one, passed as you stumbled over a branch and fell. The choked gasps of your sobbing echoed in the forest. You were hunched over and crying. 

When you pulled back to sit on the ground, you looked up and spotted a decrepit cottage in the distance. You had happened across an open space in the forest. A stream cut through and there was a small shoddy built bridge over the water and a path leading to the cottage. It was a plaster and wood building with a thatched roof. A single chimney was seen going from the bottom of one of the sides to the top of the roof. It appeared to be two storeys high. 

You approached cautiously, wondering who may be around. 

“Hello?” You called out and then waited, but no reply came, “Is anyone there?” There was no response. You moved to one of the windows and saw it covered in dust, you tried to wipe it away, but it only smudged. The cottage had been left a long time ago. Your hand reached for the nob and turned. Surprisingly, the door opened. 

You peered in to see the state of disarray inside. What little furniture could be seen was covered in a layer of dust. When you moved inside the cottage, the dust made you cough violently. 

“Oh, this place is dreadful.” You mutter. There was a broom placed beside the fireplace, also covered in dust. You picked it up and shook the dust off, with only one thought in your mind. This is going to be a nightmare to clean. 

You had spent the next few hours cleaning the cottage from top to bottom. Countless tasks were completed as time went on. While it was exhausting, it felt like a piece of freedom. Here, you were cleaning because you wished to and for yourself, not to the demands of Alicent and any of her friends. 

Earlier, in the upstairs area of the cottage - which was more of a loft space - you found seven beds placed beside one another. It filled you with sadness. At one point in time, this cottage had been full of a loving family, something you had little experience with. You could not help but wonder what could have happened to them.

You finished the last of your tasks and sighed loudly. Your hands rested on your hips as you scanned around the open living space. It looked like an entirely new place as if you tore down the old cottage and built a new one. Your exhaustion was something never felt before. The events of the day finally came down on you; the early morning picking wildflowers, Ser Erryk sparing your life, the run through the woods, and lastly your cleaning of the cottage. The beds upstairs in the lofts seemed comfier than ever. You pranced up the stairs and plopped on one of them. The soup stewing over the fireplace could be left unattended for a good long while, so with that worry out of your mind, you drifted off to sleep. 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

It was in the deep stage of your sleep that the door downstairs opened up. A figure stood in the doorway with their sword raised high and scanned the room. Once they entered, six other figures followed behind. 

“The whole place is… clean.” One of them spoke in a sleepy voice. 

“I thank you for your astute observation, genius.” The one in front wielding the sword grumbled, his grumpy countenance exacerbated by his lack of patience. His free hand moved up to adjust the eyepatch on his face. The group moved as one. They surveyed the ground floor and found nothing except the almost extinguished fire and a cast iron pot strung over it. 

One of the men reached forward and pulled the lid off, exposing the wonderful smell of stew. It simmered just barely. Before they could inspect it further, the man sneezed loudly and dropped the lid back on the pot. The clattering sound emanated around the room. 

They all hunched slightly, ready to attack, but nothing came. The one who sneezed rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. They migrated to the wooden stairs and one by one made their way up the steps. Upon reaching the lofted area, a figure underneath the covers of one of the beds was spotted. 

“What the fuck?” The grumpy one spoke in a hushed whisper. He separated himself from the group and approached the bed cautiously. He adjusted the sword in his grasp. Once he stood at the foot of the bed, he reached out with his sword and nudged the covers. The figure shifted. 

Your state of unconsciousness began to wear off. The exhaustion you had felt earlier depleted. A yawn left your mouth as you moved to sit up in the bed. The covers fell to your waist and you stretched out your arms. After stretching your arms, your hands rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Blinking a couple of times to clear your bleary vision, you opened them to see a man at the foot of the bed with a sword pointing at you. Six men stood behind, all with varying faces of curiousness to skepticism. 

There was only one reaction that seemed fitting, which was to scream. When you did, the six men standing at the top of the stairs screamed as well. The one with the sword, who had silver hair and an eyepatch over his left eye, groaned with frustration. 

“Who are you?” He demanded. 

Before you could answer, a man behind him spoke up, “Stop pointing your sword at a bloody woman!” The man had a bashful expression on his face. 

“We don’t know her, Addam.” He responded to his friend and turned back to face you, “What are you doing in our house?” 

“I… I thought it was abandoned.” You responded. Shock still froze your body. It seemed as though wherever you would run, men would always follow. 

One of the men laughed at her words. He looked to be old, with silver hair and a beard. “Well, you’re not wrong about that assumption.” The man stepped forward and to the man with the eyepatch, grabbing the sword from his hands and placing it on the floor, “I apologize for scaring you. My name is Viserys, but most people call me Happy.” 

“Happy?” You questioned. 

“They are our cover names,” Happy answered, “My friend with the patch here is Aemond, but he goes by Grumpy.” 

“Not willingly,” Aemond complained. 

You mulled over their names in your head and thought on it for a moment. For some odd reason, the names felt familiar. They settled at the back of your mind, poking at your consciousness. A heartbeat passed before it struck you. The two names and the fact that there were seven of them in total.

“As… as in the seven bandits?” You gulped a bit of air after you spoke. 

“You’re corre-” The man who spoke up sneezed abruptly, “Correct. I am Laenor, but my nickname is, well, Sneezy.” 

“Let us just all reveal ourselves. Might as well just tell her all of our secrets while we are at it.” Aemond crossed his arms and stared her down. He looked at her as though she was a threat; some hidden weapon made to kill them. 

“You suck the joy out of everything, Grumps.” Another man stepped forward and nodded to you, “I’m Aegon.” 

“Dopey,” Aemond added on. 

Aegon glared at him and crossed his arms, “At least I’m not a killjoy.” Aemond squared his shoulders and stood chest to chest with Aegon, domineering over his frame.

“Well maybe if you were smart for once-” 

“That's enough.” Viserys spoke and placed himself between them, “Both of you can leave if you won’t get along. Stop crowding around the poor girl.” They backed off and joined the other men a few feet away. 

“I’m sorry, truly. The place appeared empty and I thought that I could stay for a while. I will leave.” You push the covers from your body and maneuver off of the bed. 

Viserys raised his hands in a peaceful motion, “Please, do not feel rushed. If I may ask, who are you and why are you here?” 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

Over the seven jewelled hills and beyond the seven falls, you happened upon a home of seven bandits a half year ago. Upon revealing your true identity, they had taken you in - much to the chagrin of Grumpy. However, you provided the skills learned as a maid to contribute to the house and were allowed to stay permanently. After a few weeks of asking, the men had begun to train you in the ways of the sword. 

You were beyond skilled at it, having nicked yourself and a few of the others many times over. It was a learning curve you gradually got over, though you had a long way to go. Despite all your learning, you have yet to join them on their missions. Happy assured you that your talent with the sword was enough, but truly did not feel good to have a woman join them, for he was worried about your safety. 

It was in this group of misfits that you found a family. While Grumpy was still not too keen on your presence, the others welcomed you relatively quickly. You got to know them all on a personal level and truly understand how fitting their cover names were. Aemond fit the Grumpy name. Viserys was always happy, Aegon consistently had a dopey look on his face, while Laenor sneezed near constantly. Addam had the nickname Bashful. He always blushed when you were around and got incredibly flustered when spoken to, but he was very loyal to his friends. Harrold, another one of the older men, was called Sleepy; something he proved nearly daily because if he was not training, he would be found anywhere around the cottage taking a nap. Corlys, or Doc, seemed to take up an almost leader-like role; even though they all worked together as a collective team.

Doc and Happy built you your own room in the cottage. There was a lot of open area on the downstairs level, so they picked a corner and set up walls for your privacy. That was a month after you agreed to stay permanently, and it felt like the final moment in truly becoming family. 

It was the early hours of the morning. You were making breakfast with the help of Dopey. While he was not the brightest, he followed directions well and seemed just pleased to help. The two of you were working diligently. He went to set the table as the others started to wake. They made their way down like clockwork, each settling down in their designated seats. 

When everyone sat and had a plate of food in front of them, Happy spoke, “We think it is time for you to join us on a mission.” His gaze was directed at you. You lowered your fork and tilted your head. 

“Really? I can come?” You held back the excitement that brewed within. 

“A short raid, you will stay back and only interfere if necessary. It is just so you can watch.” Happy reiterated, but you were already smiling widely. 

“Thank you!” You shot out of your seat and walked to his, wrapping your arms around him in a hug and kissing his forehead. Happy turned a shade of bright red. 

“Yes, well, don’t expect to do much,” Grumpy spoke up, “These rich folks always hire terrible guards. There won’t be a need for you to fight.” You walked back to your seat and rolled your eyes. 

“Rich folk aren’t always bad.” You tried to defend. 

“Like that prince you met?” Bashful asked. You groaned internally. A few months prior you let slip of your encounter with the prince and the kindness he showed, regardless of the rudeness you shoved his way. Since then, the men have teased you about him. 

“Not that. I am rich… well… I haven’t been for a long time.” 

“Once a rich girl, always a rich girl,” Grumpy mumbled. 

The morning was spent preparing for some scout work on one of the main roads. The group would wait for a carriage to pass, one that was obviously belonging to a rich person, and they would rob them. Half of the earnings would be distributed to one of the nearby towns, while the other half would go to supporting themselves. 

You now find yourself halfway up a tree that lined the main road through the forest. All of the other men were scattered among other trees, each within view of one another but not from any on the ground. Multiple people had passed, but all appeared to be townsfolk. It was after a few hours that a carriage began to pass. The wood had been carved delicately and embellished with gold. It was beyond a doubt that the person was rich. The only thing that threw her off was the amount of guards on horses surrounding it. 

There had to be no less than twenty men and you were unsure how your friends would handle this. You had never seen them in action before. They all shared looks and communicated through bird calls. You were still learning the meanings of the calls, but one immediately got your attention. It was the call for an attack. 

You watched as your friends descended from their hiding spots in the branches of the trees. They fell like lightning on the soldiers. Upon a closer look, you recognized the armour of the guards and almost gasped. They are royal guards. 

A figure emerged from the carriage with a sword in hand and prepared to fight. You immediately recognized who it was. There was no way you could forget the face of Jacaerys Velaryon. His unruly dark curls fell to his sharp jawline. His stature revealed how strong his form was. The sword in his grasp caught the light. 

You had to intervene. His soldiers were exceptionally trained and you could not leave your friends unaided. You swung from the rope that helped suspend you. Landing on the ground a few feet from Jace, you were intercepted by a guard. Your sword had only ever been used for practice combat, not a skilled soldier. You unsheathed it and blocked the guard's attack. 

The two of you went back and forth. Each time you struck he blocked it, with the same happening to his strikes. He pulled you in and turned your back to his chest. Just as he brought his sword up to plunge into your neck, you elbowed his face and kicked his groin. Once the guard was on his knees and more on your level, you used the hilt of your sword and swung at his helmet, effectively knocking him out. 

When his body fell to the ground, you looked up to see Jace standing there, having watched the whole thing. 

“It’s you!” He spoke. The two of you stood still, each grasping your weapons and unsure how to proceed. You did not wait to respond and swung first. He stepped back and dodged. 

“You’re that maid!” Jacaerys never swung at you but rather deflected your hits. The two of you were engaged in some kind of dance. 

“I’m her,” You responded. Your strikes got harder and Jace pushed back a few times. 

“I don’t want to fight you. Call off these men and we can go our separate ways.” Jace tried to reason. 

You wanted to do that, but knew it was not possible with your friends, “No can do, my prince.” 

The two of you were so focused on the fight, that you failed to notice one of the guards throw a dagger your way. It lodged itself into your shoulder and you cried out in pain, stumbling in your spot. It was then that Dopey called out your name. You watched as realization swept over Jace’s face. He quickly processed the words. 

“Wait, Lady Stonehill? You’re supposed to be dead!” Jace recognized the name as the lady who was said to have passed a mere short months after her father years ago. The name was unique and he pierced it together with you also having been at Castle Stonehill.

Dopey came up on the back of a horse he stole from a guard. He leaned down to lift your injured self onto the horse. Your stomach lay on the saddle behind him. You and Jace had yet to stop looking at one another. There was an underlying force to look at him that would not yield. You wanted to stay, to make sure nothing would happen to him, but it seemed with your injury your group decided to retreat after seizing everything of value. The point was not to kill, that was something that had been emphasized in your training. 

It was always reiterated that the jobs are a swift robbery of goods and nothing else. With that goal achieved, you repositioned yourself on the saddle and wrapped your arms around Dopeys waist. All of the others had clambered to other horses and swiftly fled down the road. The horse you were on followed. You looked back over your shoulder to see the other guards recovering and Jace staring you down. He did not look angry, but rather confused. You hoped he could forgive you. 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

“I humbly apologize for the raid while on your travel here, my prince.” The words of Lady Alicent rang out through the great hall of Castle Stonehill. “Those miscreants have targeted these parts for years, it is time my men put a stop to it.” 

Jacaerys had arrived at Castle Stonehill for a momentary visit to discuss taxes for the Crown, but the interception on his travel seemed to be the only topic of focus. None of his men were gravely injured, but he had lost a few pouches of gold and jewels. 

“Thank you for your kind words, Lady Alicent,” He paused for a moment, “May we speak in private?” Jace asked. 

Alicent waved off her guards and the hall cleared, “What is it you wish to speak about, my prince?” 

“I mean no offence, but there seems to be no other way to inform you of this. Lady Alicent, I believe your stepdaughter is alive.” Jace informed. Alicent’s face shifted from curiosity to something bordering on indignation and distaste. She blinked rapidly. 

“What, um, what makes you say such a thing?” Alicent’s hands placed themselves on her stomach in an attempt to keep herself calm. Jace interpreted her actions as reminiscing of grief. 

“The visit I made with my mother months ago, well I ran into this girl who I thought was a maid. When the raiders attacked my travel company, she was there as well. One of them called out her name and well, I believe it is your stepdaughter. She matches the description as well. Maybe-” 

“I am sorry, Prince Jacaerys, but I cannot hear anymore. My stepdaughter is dead, that is final.” Alicent stood firm on her words. 

Jace nods, “Yes, I understand. I am sorry for the distress I have caused.” He nodded to Alicent before making a hasty exit from the great hall. He kept thinking back to his encounter with the woman. He finally, after months of thinking about her after their encounter in the garden, had a name to match her face. 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

You shifted uncomfortably to try and grab a broom propped in the living space. The bandages on your shoulder moved and you hissed in pain at the sharp feeling hitting you. In the days following your injury in the raid, none of the men had let you lift a single finger. While months ago that would have been a horrible thing for the chores, you had whipped them into shape and they were able to clean properly. However, you still wished to contribute to the house. 

The group marched down the stairs with weapons in their arms. They were going on another raid, as the last few days they opted out so they could watch over you. You stood by the door and opened it for them. One by one, you hugged them goodbye on their way out, giving each a kiss on the cheek for all the help they had given you. The last one, Grumpy, stood in front of you with his arms crossed. 

“You don’t have to worry, I won’t hug you.” You joked. 

Grumpy tilted his head to the side and hummed, “What I said about rich women that day… you’re one of us, not them.” It was the closest thing to an apology you would ever get from him, to be sure. Instead of acknowledging his apology, which would surely elicit a huff of annoyance from him, you chose another option. 

You move forward and wrap him in a gentle hug. His body went stiff, unfamiliar with such kindness. One of his hands went up to put your shoulder awkwardly. After a moment he huffed as a signal to let go. You backed off and flashed him a smile. 

“You secretly care for me, I know it.” 

He moved out the door and began to walk away, “Whatever makes you feel better.” 

You closed the door and looked back at the empty cottage. Making your way to the kitchen area, you decide that you should get started on making food for them when they get back. With your injury, it was bound to take longer than usual, so the sooner the better. 

Hours passed of you prepping pies with one arm. The other would sting in pain each time you tried to use it, so it would be best to get used to your current predicament in hopes it would speed up the healing process. While rolling out the dough, a knock sounded on your door. You stopped your movements and backed from the table. When you walked to the door, you reached for a long knife placed beside it. 

You opened the door while clutching the weapon behind your back. A man stood in a hooded cape. He carried a cane in one hand and a basket in the other. His leg appeared to be in some bandage, but something about it did not look like a temporary injury. 

“Forgive me, sweet girl, but I seem to have lost my way.” The man smiled, “My name is Larys. Could you help me find the right path to the local market?” 

“Oh, I can help you with that,” You notice the man looked bleary and most likely dehydrated, “Come inside and rest for a while, I can get you something to drink.” You ushered him into the cottage and to a seat while stealthily placing the weapon back in its hidden place. Once you served him a cup of water he thanked you immensely for the help. 

“No need to thank me, sir. Kindness always goes a long way.” You sat across from him at the table. 

“I have nothing to repay you.” The man muttered. 

“Oh, you don’t have to.” You spoke. 

He lifted the lid of his basket that was on the table, “Here, at least take one of these apples. I grow them back home.” He reached in and pulled out an apple. It was the most deep shade of red and covered in a shiny gleam. His hand held it out to you and you decided to pick it up. Holding it in your hand you inspected it. 

“Well, I was starting to get hungry. Thank you, sir.” You took a bite of the apple and relished the taste. Some juice dribbled down your chin and you wiped it away. “Oh, you’re low on water. I’ll get you some more.” 

Just as you get out of your seat, your body swayed oddly. Tingles made their way across your limbs and the edges of your vision dimmed. You stepped forward but stopped when your sight blacked out for a moment. It felt like you were losing control of your body. A sick feeling developed in your stomach. The apple fell from your hand. The sound it made when hitting the floor was muffled as if you were underwater. Your knees buckled under your weight and you felt yourself falling to the floor. Before you even made it there, your vision went black. 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

The band of men strolled merrily down the path to their home. It had been a successful day and they had just given half their share to one of the nearby villages. They joked with one another. Sneezy held Dopey in a headlock and began to mess up his hair, much to Dopey’s protest and Grumpy’s amused smile.��

Doc went to open the door and noticed it was unlocked and slightly ajar. He raised his hand to signal the men to be quiet. They all hushed up and saw what Doc spotted. All of them pulled out their weapons. When Doc opened the door, they funnelled in. The cottage appeared empty. Grumpy took charge and moved in further, but dropped his sword in shock upon reaching the other side of the dining table. 

The other men rushed to him and had similar reactions. Your body was on the floor, collapsed and unresponsive. Doc rushed forward and flipped you onto your back. He placed his hands below your nose but felt no air. He fell back from his crouched position as grief struck him. 

“She… she’s not breathing.” His voice came out in a helpless whisper. While the words were light, their meaning felt like iron chains on the men. They all stood around her body, both shocked and driven to hopelessness. Grumpy moved first, his eye having caught something peculiar. He reached down under the table and came back with an apple in his hand. A single bite had been taken out of it. 

After a moment, Grumpy spoke, “It was Alicent.” 

“We don’t know that for sure-” Doc began but had been caught off. 

“Seven hells, even I know it was her doing,” Dopey chimed in. 

Grumpy placed the apple down and marched upstairs. They followed him to see him rummaging through one of their large chests. Second after second he pulled out varying types of weapons and placed them methodically on the ground. 

“What are you doing?” Happy questioned. 

At first, he did not respond, not until everything from the chest laid out on display, “We are going to Castle Stonehenge and we are killing her for this.” 

“Grumpy, we don’t kill.” Bashful interjected. Some of them shifted in their stances. 

“So Alicent gets away with it?” Grumpy raised his voice, “We stick up for our own, and she was one of us.” 

Dopey crouched down and picked up a longsword, “I’m with you.” 

Grumpy looked at all the others with the hope they would join in. One by one they assembled their own collection of weapons. She may be dead, but there was no way they would let her memory die with her. Now, more than ever, they would fight stronger than they have in the past. Only one mission was left in mind, to avenge her death and spread her story - so that she would never be forgotten. 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

It started as a warmth building in your stomach. It spread throughout your body further, and the more it did the more that heat increased. It clawed its way through your veins, burning the capillaries and tearing through your muscles to burn the bone beneath. Your lungs worked in opposition, for every breath you took seemed to only increase that cursed fever that took hold. It was in your ceaseless torture that dreams spread forth; wicked and wild. 

Taunts of your lost childhood flickered on the backs of your eyelids. What-could-have-been’s propositioned like a devil's deal of a promised future, staked on the trade of your soul in exchange. Given the chance, you may have been persuaded to pray for such a deal. Your father's voice rang through your mind, but it was so faint and muffled you could not make out the words. Truthfully, to the regret and pain of every fibre of your being, you had forgotten his face and voice over time; even more so your mother. 

It was cruel, beyond any punishment that could have been warranted for transgressions in your past lives. Surely, the gods could be cruel, but to be so minacious in their plan for you bordered them on the side of the cursed souls in the seven hells. Perspiration covered your body as it fought off the fever. No amount of ice in the world could aid your affliction. Your mind fought for control, or really for any semblance of consciousness beyond that of the haze plaguing your mind. 

You could feel the thrashing of your body and the hands holding you down. They felt cold in comparison to the heat of your skin and you welcomed it. A voice, as foggy as the meadow outside your cottage and refreshing as the dew on grass in the morning, spoke through your haze. It was familiar, but you could not place its origins. 

“Come back to us, my lady.” 

The depths of the boiling ocean you were swimming in gave rise to creatures below. Faces of evil men in your past voyaged through those depths, like sharks surrounding prey. However, the most fear you felt was in the memories of your stepmother, Alicent. Her cruel sneer and wicked tongue that always seemed to be ready to fire a quip of the most vile of insults coated in a thin veil of sugar; sweetness afflicted with poison, her greatest weapon. 

Time was an illusion. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, and weeks made no sense in your haze. For all you knew years could have passed suspended in this torture. It would not surprise you. But just as quickly as hopelessness seated itself in your soul, the heat was doused in water and you felt yourself clear again. Your muscles ached and your head pounded, but the relief of no longer being under such a curse took priority. 

Your eyes blinked open and struggled to see through your blurry vision. When you managed to get a hold of your sight, the roof of a canopy bed was all you could see. The engraved wood was familiar. It took many minutes to get up, but once you were sat in the plush bed you recognized where you were. 

Your childhood bedchamber appeared to have gone through no change at all since your father's death. You could not even remember the last time you were in this room, having been cast out and forbidden to go in. Perhaps you were dead and this was your afterlife. You had no idea if it was heaven or hell. The happiness of being in this room was undercut by the pain you felt for what could have been. 

It was then that your memories came like an opened floodgate. The man you helped and the sudden feeling of blacking out. The apple… it had to have been the apple. You understood that it must be a plot construed by Alicent. Your placement in the room was not a gift, but one last taunt she made before killing you for good. You’d be damned if you went out without a fight now that you’ve learned well enough from your found family. 

You scrambled out of bed and searched around the room, looking for anything that could be of service. In a drawer in a random dresser, you found a sewing collection with some shears. This will have to do. 

You positioned yourself on the side of the door that would be covered when open and waited with bated breath. Shuffled footsteps sounded from outside and you prepared to strike. The door creaked open and the person walked in. You surged forward with your hand preparing to plunge the knife into them, but a hand caught your wrist with the shears. 

“It would be regrettable to stab me, for killing the crown prince is the most heinous of crimes. I would hate for you to meet such a sudden end on your twice emergence from the dead.” The voice of Jacaerys Velaryon shook you from your adrenaline-filled mind. You dropped the shears. 

“Prince Jacaerys?” He released your wrist from his grip and took a step back to give you space. 

“It’s a relief to see you awake, my lady,” Jace spoke. 

You swayed in your spot, the fear your body ran off of ebbed away, “What…” You stumbled forward and Jace moved quickly to catch you. One of his hands wrapped around your waist while the other supported your back. 

“You should still be abed,” He uttered. Jace guided you back to the bed and helped you sit down. Your back rested against the headboard. The prince grabbed a nearby chair and moved it to the side of the bed you sat on and settled on it. 

“I am sure you have… many questions.” 

You huffed, “That may be the biggest understatement of the century.” 

“You got me there,” Jace smiled gently, “Your, uh, friends stationed themselves outside the room and wouldn’t leave while you rested. There would never be more than two gone at a time. They’re staying in the room across from yours, I can wake them up so they can speak with you.” 

He made a move to get out of his chair, but you interrupted, “Wait, no. Let them rest. How long have I been out?” 

Jace hesitated before answering, “Two weeks.” You gaped at the answer, but he continued, “Honestly, no one was sure you would wake.” 

You looked down at the blanket strew across your lap and traced your fingers over the delicately sewn design of vines. Two weeks of missed time, suspended in that state of burning pain. You blinked back the tears that pooled in your eyes and cleared your throat. 

“Forgive me for my language, my prince, but what in the Seven Hell’s happened?” 

Jace rested his hands on his thighs and leaned back, conveying his openness, “To be honest, my lady, I am not entirely sure. It was a shock. I was having dinner with Alicent when your… friends descended. I still have no clue how they got past both the castle and my own guards. They were a fury to be sure. Hurling such accusations at Alicent.”

You wanted to speak, but violent coughing raked through your throat and had you seize for a moment. Jace got out of his seat and reached for a cup that was placed on the bedside table. He poured the water into the glass and held it out for you. When you went to reach for the cup, Jace grabbed your hand and moved it back down to the covers. He brought it to your lips and tilted it so you could drink. Once you had a sip, he pulled back and waited if you wished for more. You shook your head, muttering a thank you, and he put it back on the table before settling in the chair again. 

Jace continued, “They claimed Alicent faked your death to take your inheritance. That you had been ultimately killed by her with poison. I must admit, I did not believe them at first. But, a knight, Ser Erryk corroborated their story. Only then did Alicent fumble under the pressure, her story of innocence did not match up and began to crumble under scrutiny.” 

You were in a state of shock. Never, in any dream or wish, could you have ever thought of Alicent being seen as the true person she was. That her crimes would be revealed. 

“I had her arrested.” Jace’s words had rung in your head. The picture of Alicent in a cell came to mind, and the relief in that image could not be measured. Perhaps, finally, you may be out of reach from her conniving talons. 

“I… How am I still alive?” You questioned. 

Jace cleared his throat, “Well, I sharply questioned her for information regarding the poison. The castle healer knew of an antidote, but we were unsure if it would work, given how long it took to get to you. I am glad it did.” The corners of his lips turned up slightly. 

“I need to see her.” You spoke. 

“Absolutely not, I cannot allow that, my lady.” Jace shook his head. 

“I have a right to see her. I am the lady of this castle, am I not?” You retorted. Your eyebrow rose in challenge and Jace nodded. 

“You could barely stand for a few moments. When you are strong enough, I will personally take you to her. And yes, you are the lady of this castle so for you and your people, you must rest.” He emphasized the final three words, pausing after each. 

The finality in his tone had you lean backwards and close your eyes. The pounding in your head had yet to cease, but it had eased. You pinched the bridge of your nose and began to breathe in and out. 

“I sent word to my mother. She is coming to oversee Lady Alicent’s trial.” Jace lowered his voice, “Ser Erryk has physical evidence of a box meant for your heart. He was sent to carve it out of you… Um, another man was found, the one who gave you that apple. He is locked up and will be put on trial with Alicent.” 

That day when Ser Erryk helped you felt like years ago. You were a different person then. Naive enough to believe Alicent would do something kind for you for once. While it had been the lowest point of your life, without it you would not be who you are now. A changed woman, with a true family and purpose. 

“I wish to see my family now.” You whispered. Despite the conversation sucking all your strength, you wanted to see your friends. Jace stood up and nodded. He did not say anything further, in case he would stress you more than you were at that moment. His hand gripped the door handle and he opened it. Jace turned back around to you and looked as though he wanted to say something but refrained. His figure went through the door and closed it, leaving you to stew in the overwhelming amount of information you were fed. 

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

The following week waiting for the arrival of Queen Rhaenyra was spent recovering. The shoulder wound you had sustained in the raid against Jace and his men had almost healed. Your body had fought off the last of the poison days ago, but everyone around you still treated you like glass. It had begun to grind down on your nerves. 

Visiting Alicent had been a decision you turned against. There was nothing you wished to say to her and nothing she could ever say to you that would be worth your time. It would only ever throw you into more distress. Your new family settled into castle life surprisingly well, a fact you often teased them about. However, they still showed some form of distrust towards Jacaerys. 

The prince had become a close friend in the short time spent together. He would visit you often in your chambers as you recovered. When you were cleared to walk, he would escort you around the caste. In his words, he accompanied you in the event that you collapsed, but you knew he did not have to as there were plenty of guards that could have done the job. 

Despite the closeness between you two, some of your friends - mainly Grumpy - were still put off by him. Grumpy had approached you at one point to question Jace’s intentions, a conversation that made your cheeks flush and heart race. After clarifying that Jace was just being a gentleman, Grumpy acquiesced his hostility to the prince but still watched him with a piercing gaze when he went near you. 

It was not just Grumpy that had become more protective over you. All of the men had heightened awareness of every little thing that happened in Castle Stonehill. There was rarely a moment when no less than two were by your side. They went so far as to have you dismiss your night guards and take shifts outside your door. When meals were made for you, Doc and Happy would watch over the cooks in the kitchen. 

It was an unspoken fear they had; of the possibility of Alicent getting someone to come for you. You knew that so long as she was alive in a cell they would continue to act like this. Jace often joked about you having your own mini army, or legion of defenders that safeguarded your every waking moment. You would laugh if it was amusing. At first, their actions were endearing, but now they felt more stifling as of late. 

When Queen Rhaenyra arrived, you were surprised by the soft warmth she brought to whatever room she occupied. She was strong-willed and an excellent conversationalist. Her kindness was refreshing, and you could see the resemblance in personality between her and Jace. Though, you were able to note he must carry more of King Harwin’s looks than his mother. A small piece of yourself was jealous whenever you would watch Jace and Rhaenyra spend time together. They were close, and you yearned for what kind of relationship you could have had with your mother. 

A part of you wondered, had Alicent not been as vain, if you and her could have been close. 

You were in your chemise and struggled to change the bandages on your shoulder. Regret for having dismissed the doctor washed over you. You were standing in your room, with your head tilted to look at the stitched wound. The door abruptly opened. You looked up to see Jace had walked in. Upon seeing your state of near undress, he let out a surprised yelp and turned his back to you. The sound of his startled voice made you laugh. 

“I am so sorry, my lady. I do not know what I was thinking to not knock like that- oh, my mother will be furious. Again, I express my deepest condolences. This-” Jace began to frantically apologise. 

You began to laugh harder, finding this situation amusing.. Had it happened to you months ago, you would have been mortified. Now, it does not bother you. Especially since it was him who happened to walk in.  

“It is alright, Jacaerys. I know you meant nothing nefarious.” The two of you had common ground. When away from the listening ears of court, you could ignore propriety in referring to one another by your titles. It pleased a part of you to hear him address you by name rather than Lady Stonehill. 

He still kept his back to you, “I will, um, come back later.” 

“Could you…” You debated if you should ask, given that it was not entirely appropriate, “Could you help me?” Jace turned around to face you, but kept his gaze in line with your face. He coughed to clear his throat. A vibrant red flush spread from his cheeks to his neck. 

“Yeah, uh, of course.” He moved forward hesitantly. The table next to you had a silver tray with some ointment and wraps. He cleaned off his hands in the bowl of water beside it and took some of the ointment. Standing next to you, the height difference was apparent. His chin when looking down only reached the top of your head. Jace’s breath was calm as he applied the ointment to the stitched area on your shoulder. 

You had cursed yourself inwardly for asking him to do this. Your brain only seemed to focus on his calloused fingertips gently applying the cool ointment. Your mind ran wild and you closed your eyes in an attempt to calm your mind. He methodically wrapped up your shoulder. When he finished, his hands lingered on the skin around the wrap. 

You coughed subtly to get his attention. Jace blinked and backed away, moving his gaze to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Thank you, Jace.” You were unaware of the effect it had on him to use his nickname rather than his full name. You moved behind a room divider for some privacy and began to put on the other layers of your clothing. 

“Are you… okay? With everything going on.” Jace spoked to you from the other side of the wood divider. Today was the day of Alient’s execution. You had ruminated on it for countless hours during the last few days. 

“I thought that maybe I would feel bad about her death… I truly feel nothing but relief. I guess Sir Erryk never needed to cut out my heart, there seems to not be one.” You shuffled your dress over your head and adjusted the ties on your back, having perfected the routine by having to do it yourself for many years. 

“You have every right to feel that way about her execution. Everything she has done to you… you have a heart, I hope you know that.” Jace reassured. You walked out from behind the divider to look straight at him. 

“And you’ve suddenly become an expert in matters of the heart?” You raised a brow with challenge as you teased him. However, Jace did not seem as though he was joking. 

His gaze held an intensity you could not decipher, “Yes, recently so.” 

You ceased your jesting face and came to understand the gravity of his words. It was not a surprise, for this was something the two of you had been blatantly ignoring as of late. The two of you failed to evade one another. It was an invisible force that pulled you together. Jace took one step forward and there was only a few inches from you. 

“Jace, I…” You sucked in a breath. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I will not make you feel forced to. Nor do I wish for you to feel compelled to reciprocate what I feel. But, I know you have noticed it. I only ask for consideration.” Jace’s eyes held nothing but sincerity. He looked down at you and the closeness felt more intimate than anything you have experienced in your life. 

“I feel insane even saying it,” Jace clarified, “It has happened so quickly, feeling this kind of love, but I would not have it any other way.” 

You were finally able to respond, “I will be honest with you. I don’t know if I love you, Jace, I hardly know you. We have spent a lot of time together and I know there is something there, something I do wish to pursue. Why don’t we start by continuing to get to know one another?” 

Jace nodded desperately at your words as if he clung to every syllable. You reached out to rest your hands on his chest because of how close he was. When you did not push him away, Jace took that as a positive sign and moved his arms to wrap loosely around you with his hands resting on your back. He moved his face closer but stopped just short of yours. He waited for a sign of approval from you. When you gestured with your head in approval, Jace leaned forward and connected your lips. 

In that moment, everything around you ceased to be a reality. It was a promise of protection and devotion given by Jace. His lips were warm and soft, a reflection of his personality. His nose pressed into your cheek. The two of you moved in sync with one another. Normally, you are hyper-aware of all of your senses, but with him, they all seemed to fade away. All you could focus on was him; his arms around you, his lips on yours, and the feeling of desire coursing through you. 

Jace pulled back enough to rest his forehead on yours. Both of you inhaled deeply to catch your breath. Upon opening your eyes, you saw that Jace was already staring at you. He held a dazzling smirk on his face. 

“I hope I do not disappoint you.” He spoke. 

You decided to tease him a little, “I don’t think it could be as disappointing as that kiss you gave me.” 

Jace feigned a look of hurt, but it was tinged with a smile. “Oh, so that is how this will be?” 

“Of course, my prince. I will always have the upper hand.” You giggled. Jace moved his hands from your back to wrap around your waist and pulled you flush against him. The feelings that action elicited from you were all too new and addicting. The closeness of your bodies set your veins alight. This was something you would have no shame in getting used to.

“Well then, my lady, I shall rise to the occasion.” Jace leaned back in to kiss you. 

_____________

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ note: that was part 1 of Between the Pages! i am super excited to start off this series, as I had developed plans for this back in 2022. there were entire storyboards planned, but i never got to writing them. thank you for all the support <3

if you want to be added to any of my taglists, click here.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ taglist: @uniquecutie-puffs @dracaryxzs @beebeechaos @libdarkheart @whodis? @void21

[shadowdaddies]

Rainy Days

Azriel x Reader smut

A/N: it's cold and rainy where I live right now, and I need Azriel to warm me up

Warnings: soft smut, this is really just pwp, oral f!receiving

The sky began to darken, grey clouds rolling in overhead as thunder sounded in the distance. You huffed, clutching your coat tighter around your waist as you hurried down the street, hoping to make it home before the storm began. 

Another crack of thunder sounded, a raindrop hitting your cheek as you looked to the House of Wind in the distance. Another droplet landed on the top of your hair, and you looked up just as the shower of rain began to pour down upon you, icy water seeping through your coat, your sweater, to your chilled skin. 

Goosebumps rose on your arms and chest, teeth chattering as you ducked under the intermittent awnings of the Rainbow’s storefronts. You’d reached the corner when a gust of wind blew at your back - or what would have felt like a gust of wind, had it not been so familiar to you.

Before you could turn over your shoulder, warm hands wrapped around your waist, blue siphons glowing dimly against the melancholy lighting. A familiar scent of cedar enveloped you as Azriel’s jaw brushed your cheek, unshaven scruff tickling your soft skin.

“Need a lift?” he murmured, warm lips brushing your cheek, sending warmth through your body and straight to your core. Melting into his touch, all you could do was nod, sighing in relief as your mate cradled you to his warm body before shooting into the skies.

Wind whipped around you, but Azriel held you close, keeping you warm as you landed on the balcony. Shivering, your cold fingers fumbled around the doorknob as you shouldered your way into the bedroom, Azriel shaking water from his wings before following you inside.

His clothes - wet from the rain - clung tight to his body, highlighting each sculpted muscle, his dark, shadowy form in contrast to the glowing hazel eyes that raked over your form. You squirmed under Azriel’s gaze, biting back a whimper at the smirk that graced his lips when he scented your growing arousal.

Shadows closed the doors behind him, the sound of rain pelting against the balcony muffled as he stalked closer to you, a predatory gleam in your mate’s eyes as your knees buckled against the mattress, sending you sprawled against the soft bed. 

Azriel tsk’ed from where he hovered over you, his wings spread so wide that they blocked out the gloomy light behind him. “You’re dripping, love.” His lips curled up at the slight gasp you let out at his words. Nodding to your drenched jacket, Azriel continued, “those clothes will soak through the bed. Not to mention how much you are shivering, angel.”

Warm, scarred hands slid up your waist, your legs instinctively wrapping around Azriel as you pulled him closer, a small chuckle sounding from him at your eagerness. His eyes shone gold in the dim room, skillful fingers drifting up your chest as your mate removed your sweater and coat in one swift move. 

No sooner had a chill shivered down your spine than the fire lit in the hearth across the room, instant warmth seeping through your bones as Azriel made quick work of removing your pants, peeling the wet fabric slowly, tortuously down your legs. 

Thunder rolled outside, the sounds of rain and fire and your heartbeats all that echoed in the quiet room. “Azriel,” you murmured, reaching eagerly to touch your mate. Shadows snaked up from where Azriel leaned over your waist, undulating in teasing movements across your breasts before anchoring around your wrists.

Tendrils of darkness pinned you to the bed, a smug look on their master’s face as your eyes glazed over with desire, staring at his broad chest restrained beneath his own clothing. As though he could read your thoughts, Azriel pulled his own top over his body, the dampened fabric landing to the floor with a wet thud. 

His dark, tattooed chest gleamed in the firelight, heaving as darkened eyes moved indulgently slowly down your naked body. Warm hands spread your legs wide, propping your feet on the bed frame as Azriel leaned over you, his wet curls dripping cold rainwater up your stomach as he moved, nosing and nipping at your warm skin.

Licking a stripe up your neck, Azriel inhaled your scent with a groan, his hips rutting against the edge of the bed as he tugged your earlobe between his teeth. With a mewl, your chest arched up into his, hardened nipples brushing against him as Azriel groaned, head falling forward as his cheek brushed yours.

“If you keep that up, I won’t be able to take my time. And trust me, love, I have many things that I want to do to you right now,” Az breathed, pulling himself up to press warm, open mouthed kisses across your cheeks, down your jaw, your neck. 

He sucked harshly on your breasts, leaving dark marks. Azriel knew how you loved getting ready the next day, seeing his claim all over you in the mirror - a cherished secret between the two of you, that he was with you always.

Tongue flicked out against your nipple, stirring you from the pleasure filled daze as mirthful hazel eyes watched you from below. Azriel continued his path lower, shadows moving you as he liked. Warm breath ghosted over your heat for only a moment, a growl escaping Azriel as he licked a long stripe up your core.

“Fuck, you taste incredible,” he murmured, eyes turning glassy as his grip on your thighs tightened. But your mate was strategic, patient. No matter how much he longed to dive in, tasting you on his lips, wrapping himself in your essence, he was trained in self control. Slow, tantalizing flicks of his tongue warmed your core, forcing you to clench around nothing as you squirmed in Azriel’s tight grip.

Head tossing back and forth against the sheets, you mewled pathetic pleas for more, more tongue, more hands, more of anything you could get from Azriel. His laughter vibrated against your core, your hips rolling against his skilled mouth. A finger prodded at your entrance, slowly circling despite your babbling moans, hardly coherent as you pressed for more.

Sliding inside of you, Azriel’s finger crooked against your walls, hitting against the spot where his tongue pressed your bundle of nerves. A lewd moan left you at the stimulation, your hands clawing at the sheets as he sucked and licked your clit, adding a finger to pump inside of you. Each movement of his tongue matched perfectly with the curl of his fingers, quickly turning to overstimulation as you hit your high.

The sound of rain dulled in your ears, your senses honing in only on the exquisite pleasure that shot through you, toes curling as you screamed Azriel’s name. With a pleased groan, Azriel lapped up your juices, his chin glistening with your slick as he smiled up at you from between your legs. 

Chest heaving, you tried to catch your breath and find the energy to take Azriel fully as you pulled him up against you. His warm body settled atop your own as your mate leaned down to kiss you, the taste of you on his tongue as it danced with your own. 

Your hand moved down to Azriel’s length, but he caught your wrist in his own hand, lifting it to his lips. “Later, my love. For now, I would just like to watch the rain with my beautiful, sexy mate,” he murmured. 

You nodded, fingers threading through his onyx locks, pulling Azriel in for another kiss before he settled behind you, arms wrapping around as the two of you watched the rain outside until you drifted off to sleep.

[kaciidubs]

Stupid in Love

❣ Summary: Perhaps they call it falling in love because you never truly stop falling. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 813 ❣ Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, Hyunjin fell hard for you, genuinely just fluff and love ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Hyunjin is referred to as Hyune, Reader is referred to as My Love, I suggest listening to 'Stupid in Love' by MAX, featuring Yunjin, it's what inspired this whole thing ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Hyunjin was smitten.

Truly, utterly smitten, infatuated, head over heels, down bad, and stupidly, stupidly in love.

Love was a concept that was both foreign and familiar, something he knew he’d felt before but in the same breath, something he had no working experience with - which only seemed to make things worse.

Love wasn’t black and white turning to color, it was his already extensive color palette expanding with new, vibrant hues and shades he hadn’t been able to create on his own.

With you, he felt like he was walking on clouds, dancing in the drizzling rain as the sun shone through the droplets to cast the most beautiful, vibrant rainbow across the blue sky. At the same time, he felt like he was a newborn deer discovering the world on new, wobbly legs, going about everything with an air of curiosity and wonder that had his heart leaping at every turn.

Complex and simple, it made his head spin as he tried to make himself understand the feelings he was experiencing, though the only suitable conclusion he could ever come to was the simple fact that he was in love with you.

You, who giggled when he stumbled over his words while introducing himself.

You, who agreed to go on a date with him a mere three weeks after meeting, on the only condition that you would plan out the date.

You, who he found himself calling his girlfriend within the blink of an eye, and in the next blink you were both two years and a few months deep, and going strong.

You, you, you.

“...and I figured making chocolate covered fruits would be better than attempting to make an entire cake from scratch, even though Felix swore he and Seungmin could bake with their eyes closed - I’ve seen their lives before! There’s no way they’re baking anywhere near my kitchen.”

Hyunjin blinked, his subconscious floating back down to earth as he watched you wander through your kitchen with no clear goal in sight, simply rummaging through cabinets as you spoke.

Truly, he wished he could remember what spurred this conversation - he loved the sound of your voice, and it felt counterintuitive that his wandering mind would distract him from one of his favorite sounds in the world.

However, his disappointment would disappear as fast as it arrived as you turned to him, a dazzling smile holding your lips and dancing in your eyes.

“So, what d’you think we should do for valentine’s this year, Hyune?”

It would be your third Valentine's Day together, and though you both celebrated each other often, the day of love was reserved for grander gestures to keep the social tradition alive.

Pushing himself away from the island counter, he sauntered over to you before wrapping you in his arms, swooping in to steal a feather-light kiss from your lips; pulling back just enough to bask in the sight of your lidded eyes gazing up at him.

“Let’s get married.”

You ducked your head, an astonished laugh bursting past your lips, “You- What?!” Endless giggles shook your shoulders as you looked up at him once more, winding your arms around his shoulders, “Hyunjin, really!”

“Yeah, really.” He pressed, a lovesick smile curving the corners of his lips, “Let’s get married, we can go to Vegas and get it done right then and there.” Of course, he knew his suggestion was mostly in jest, but his sentiments were as true as the sky being blue.

He wanted to marry you, if not now, then sometime down the line - he wanted to be your last love.

Humming as if contemplating his offer, you tilted your head, “How about matching tattoos first? I have a feeling neither one of us would want a Vegas wedding.”

“Oh?” Now it was his turn to tilt his head, a strand of black hair tickling his forehead, “And what type of wedding were you thinking about, my love?”

“I don’t know…”

The tone of your voice was sing-song-ish - facetious, leading, and sugar coated - and he was hanging on with a bated breath.

“I was thinking… Paris?” Your teasing smile threatened to break into a full on grin as his eyes widened a margin, before they narrowed with mirth.

Arms tightening around your waist, his lips found yours in an instant, “Matching tattoos,” he hummed breathlessly, before catching your lips in a slower, deeper kiss, “then matching rings.”

Nodding, your fingers danced in the hair at the nape of his neck as you blinked up at him with adoration, “I definitely wouldn’t mind sharing your last name, Mr. Hwang.”

Hyunjin grazed his nose along yours, reveling in your smell, your touch, you, you, you.

“I’ll give it to you as fast as I can, Mrs. Hwang.”

Hyunjin was smitten.

Truly, utterly smitten, infatuated, head over heels, down bad, and stupidly, stupidly in love with you.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes , @caitlyn98s , @ch4nn13luv , @ihrtlix , @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 , @maximumkillshot , @y-ur--i , @acker-night , @dreamescapeswriting , @specialstay , @s00buwu , @tinyelfperson , @jj-stay , @katsukis1wife , @inlovewithmusician , @keen-li , @armystay89 , @main-character0 , @vampcharxter , @ddyskz , @prettymiye0n , @bbgnyx , @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz , @milknhoneyracha , @hann1bee , @palindrome969 , @newhope8 , @softkissfelix , @luvyev , @luminouskalopsia , @kpopsstuffs , @luvyev , @starquokka , @wolfs-howling , @laylasbunbunny , @zaethefangirl, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @dwaekkistar, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows,

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[elixrr]

Neuvillette x GN.Reader

angst with comfort

“Neuvi...?”

The sun shone all across Fontaine. It was a gleaming, hopeful day, but Neuvillette felt that your eyes carried more hope than all of Fontaine's people.

Neuvillette looked around, turning towards every place that didn't capture you in his line of view. He couldn't bring himself to look at neither you nor your eyes. They were bright and full of pure hope, and he just couldn't make himself look.

You had just confessed your feelings to him, and they were feelings that he did not reciprocate. He couldn't—he didn't know how.

The area was secluded, being in a private place on a hill full of rainbow roses that the melusines had agreed to help you grow. You stood in the part of the garden that held the most roses, and he stood with none—only a singular lumidouce bell by his side.

Neuvillette, after a fleeting moment of contemplation, gained the ability to look back at you. Your eyes captured the sun, and he couldn't hold that same brightness.

In fact, the sun was blocked by the sudden swarming clouds. You looked away from Neuvillette, staring up at the forming storm. He watched your eyes as you realized what was happening.

The light you held began to dim.

Your shine flickered, and it was because of him.

“So you don't...?”

“I am sorry. Terribly sorry.”

Neuvillette's seen the tears and sorrows of melusines, and he's done everything in his power to protect him. Similarly, he's seen humans cry as well. He's had trouble trying to understand humans and their emotions, especially when their reasons and stories are so vague and hidden. Yet, he never dug too far in, wishing to avoid being caught in their daily affairs unless need be.

But with you? The person he cherishes, his dearest, closest friend? Something about seeing your sorrow stabs him, twisting and jabbing weaponry at his soul when he sees you stumble away.

Neuvillette can not fully grasp human emotion, but this time, he knows that you're in pain. Grief, regret, and a tinge of disbelief stirred in you, and with it raged the storm, and the clouds spread far and wide, the rain growing heavier and heavier. He could not cry in this moment, but nature cried for him.

“Oh... Okay. I– I uh, I got it.”

You furthered yourself from Neuvillette, your gaze never touching his figure. You turned away, walking away from the area, towards a few lumidouce bells near the roses. You didn't want Neuvillette to see you cry, but he already knew you were. Before he knew it, you were gone from his sight, taken by the fog of the storm.

He broke your heart.

Neuvillette stands still, frozen in place, his gaze fixated on the grass. What could he have said? What could he have done differently? Your starry, sunny confession has gone to waste, and he didn't even say a thing back, yet the clouds and stormy skies told you everything for him.

With sorrow poisoning him and the heavy rains, ultimately wilting the roses that once stood so tall and hopeful, Neuvillette left.

The storm followed him to the Court of Fontaine, where almost nobody found themselves among the streets or stairs of the city. The harsh weather drove all plans away and killed the cheer with dread. Neuvillette hoped that no place would flood nearby, and he hoped that the melusines were safe.

He knew that this weather would hold up for a few days.

Neuvillette hurried his way over to the Palais Mermonia, knowing that work may be his only escape from these drowning thoughts. Each footstep led a thousand raindrops, and the other foot a thousand more. He thought of you over and over again, your crying face that he's seen many times over the years. You meant a lot to him, he realizes. How could he just discard you like that?

“Monsieur, is everything alright?”

“Kiara?”

Neuvillette turned to look at the small melusine.

“Here, I have a towel for you! It's storming hard out there, isn't it?”

Kiara hands the towel to Neuvillette with both of her hands, and Neuvillette breaks out a small smile, the gesture reminding him of your ability to walk into his office whenever you felt like it, and when you would—

but you aren’t there. You won't be. Not today, not tomorrow, not next week or the following. He killed your friendship, and it is a crime that he felt he must be punished for.

“Neuvillette? Uhm, Monsieur Neuvillette?”

“Uh, huh? Ah, my sincerest apologies. What were you saying?”

Kiara nudged Neuvillette and waved the towel around a little, signaling for him to take it. Neuvillette declined politely.

“Thank you, but I must decline your offer. I have some work that must be done.”

Neuvillette smiled at Kiara, who nodded, waving a goodbye at him. He walked into his office drenched, shutting the doors.

“Ah! There you are!”

Furina waltzed her way over to Neuvillette, each one of her steps executed in perfect animation.

“What is the meaning of this? The rain, I mean.”

Furina looked up at Neuvillette with her hands on her hips, a pout on her lips as the Iudex looked down at her.

“I do believe you'd understand why the weather changes like this, so drastically.”

“And you are correct! So.. why the stoic and long face? Is the work getting to you?”

Furina's voice softened ever so slightly.

“Of course not. It's...” The fact that I broke my dear friend's heart. That's the issue, yet not a single word came through.

“Weren't you supposed to be out with (name)? For ‘urgent matters’, as you would always put it?”

Neuvillette's eyes traced the floor. Furina read this, and her eyes widened.

“Did... Did something happen to them? Don't tell me they dissolved, too...”

“No, it is not that.”

“Then what is it? You might as well be in love with them, no? At some point every day, you mention them! Almost everything reminds you of them! Don't tell me that they—”

Furina paused.

“...Don't tell me that they rejected you.”

Neuvillette looked up at her.

“No, that is not... It's the opposite.”

Furina's brows furrowed slightly.

“You... Rejected them?”

Neuvillette nodded.

If not for the storm and the rustle and rumble from the other rooms, the room would have been dead silent.

“Uh.. Err— I'm not very good at... Ahem! Neuvillette. Look at me.”

He listened.

“Hm, uh, imagine (name), okay? Just do it. And then imagine them very close to you, and just... Imagine them k— kissing.. you...”

Furina's face sparked with peachy and red tints. Neuvillette looked at her strangely but proceeded.

Him kissing you. You kissing him.

Neuvillette pursed his lips, and his fists clenched slightly. Furina saw the smallest smidgen of blush on his face, and her ears heard the raindrops pounding on the window slow.

“You.. How do you feel?”

“I... Don't know. What is this?” His heart raced at the thought of your lips. He sometimes caught himself staring whenever you were with him, his eyes capturing your lips when they pressed against teacups and mugs to drink your orders.

But your lips on him..?

“So... The rain stopped. You look flustered, and you're deep in thought. Hm. If I had to take one thing away from this, it would be the fact that you! You need to go back! Tell them you like them, maybe even love them!”

Furina scolded, pulling him out of his trance and pushing him out of the office door.

“Now!”

And she slammed it... Gently.

Neuvillette needed to see you. Now. He sped out of the palace, and the storm raged yet again. He didn't know where you were. He didn't know of your whereabouts, and he could only hope that you were home.

Through the rain, he fled to your residence. Neuvillette used each drop of stamina and strength he had in him to get to you, as if he was floating on a ticking time bomb, and if he didn't get to you in time, he couldn’t make amends for hurting you and breaking your heart.

Memories of you flooded his mind, his position in Fontaine and his lack of professionalism in the moment didn't matter to him now. All he wanted to do was to know that he had another chance with you.

He climbed the stairs to the little housing section you lived in. Panting, he ran to your doors, but he stopped.

Wait. Looking at his reflection in your window, his hair looked disheveled and messy, alongside his clothes. Quickly, he adjusted his attire and brushed back loose strands of his hair, and knocked.

Ah, wait, gifts? No gifts for an apology or even a quick visit? There's no time now, though. He had already knocked, yet he had a feeling that nobody was inside. It was dark, and no appliances were on from where he could see.

“N— Neuvillette?”

He heard your voice. Quickly, the Iudex turned around to see you, eyes slightly red and hair wet and messy from the rain. You were also drenched.

You looked up as the rain lightened up. The storm wasn't anything near a storm, just light drizzles.

“Neuvillette, wh– why are you here? You'd usually have work to do, right?”

“I.. I must discuss something with you. May I come in?”

Neuvillette looked more desperate than you're used to with his eyes furrowed, alongside his unexpected haste and pace.

With such a regretful look in his eyes, how could you refuse him?

“I... Sure. Sure thing, help yourself in!”

You smiled. Even now, after rejection, your heart still fluttered at the sight of your hopelessly-longed-for love.

Relief lifted his face. “Thank you,” Neuvillette stepped aside to let you unlock the door. “And, please, pardon me for the intrusion.”

You giggled. “Why say that? I'm sure you know how many times I've pardoned you by now.”

You reached into your bag to get your keys, rummaging around all of the items you took with you.

The realization hits, and your arm movement slows. All of the items were supposed to be used for a surprise picnic date with Neuvillette after the confession.

If only it didn't go so badly.

You finally find your keys and unlock the door, entering your house and letting Neuvillette in one more time. Taking off your shoes, you make your way into the kitchen to pour a few glasses of water for Neuvillette and yourself. You expected Neuvillette to stay behind in the living room and wait for the water there, but he followed you into the kitchen.

“I apologize for intruding. However, there is a matter I would like to... Discuss. With you.”

“Go on.”

You couldn't look at him in the eyes. You had a bad feeling about this, hearing the pattering of the raindrops grow heavier against your window panes.

“May you... Look at me?”

Neuvillette coughed, noticing how inconsistent the rain had become. It's a telltale sign of his nervousness, yet you could only assume the worst when you turned around to see Neuvillette.

You looked into his eyes expectantly.

In contrast to your confession earlier, there were no physical rainbow roses nearby, only a painting that Madame Zuria gave to you, depicting a penguin named Thelxie holding up one singular rainbow rose.

The painting hung close to you and Neuvillette. His hesitation was killing you, and the pattering of the raindrops drowned you.

“Neuvi...”

He looked at you. You, who he deemed gorgeous. The sun finally peeked through the clouds— now all of Teyvat felt the sun on its land. Even when the sun shone into the window, you still lacked the light in your eyes. They were dull, seemingly hopeless. Neuvillette hesitated further.

Earlier, you confessed your feelings to him. He, though indirectly, rejected you, stripping the hope— and perhaps love— from your eyes, and in that moment, he felt like a killer. A sinner that must be judged.

But now it's time he made amends. He breathed in, closing his eyes and opening them as he breathed out.

He needed to confess his feelings to you.

“(Name), I... Must apologize about how I handled the situation earlier. I believe that there had been a.. a misunderstanding between us. I do not dislike you, nor do I find myself disinterested in you.”

Neuvillette gulped, his eyes flicking to the painting on the wall. One rainbow rose by him to replace his lumidouce bell.

“I... I think—no. I know it. I reciprocate your feelings.” He looked at you. Your eyes glimmered, catching— perhaps even becoming— the sun.

“In other words,” Neuvillette coughed, “I like you too.”

Neuvillette's seen and heard of the hopes and dreams of many, melusines and humans alike. He has seen their bright smiles eradicate the dark tears that they can cry, but you? Your smile, this particular smile, was something worth more than anyone's happiness— worth more than everyone's happiness.

Neuvillette struggled to grasp the concept of human emotions fully, nor was he able to even understand his emotions. But with his newfound love and hope for the future and you, he believes that an attempt to feel for humanity and understand may be worth it all.

Especially if he can do it all with you.

—

“Monsieur? Monsieur Neuvillette?”

Neuvillette groaned at the ringing in his head, feeling unusually wobbly.

“Ah, yes. What's the matter?”

He took in his surroundings. It's still storming. He's back at the Court of Fontaine on an aquabus to the Opera Epiclese.

“Where's... Where's (name)?” Neuvillette hastily stands, looking around the area.

Aeval looked at him with a sad expression.

“I'm afraid that (name) isn't in Fontaine at the moment. Chlorinde took you back here. Apparently, she found you passed in front of (name)'s house after you witnessed...”

Neuvillette's eyes widened. “Did I witness something?”

“Yes. It's all over the news, Monsieur. You were passed out in front of (name)'s house after witnessing their death.”

[k0yaz]

that was all that mattered.

Pairings: furina x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, angst—but comfort yay :3, hanahaki disease, graphic descriptions of coughing up blood, GIRLS LOVING GIRLS OH MY GOD???? Not proofread.

A/N: FURINA MY POOKIE WOOKIE CUPCAKE RECIPE WITH RAINBOW SPRINKES ON TOP WHY HAVE I NEVER WRITTEN FOR HER I LOVE FURINA SO MUCH AHAHSHSHDGGDGHSHSHSKWOEI 🕯️

She never wanted to see that sight again.

Furina paced back and forth, the quiet snaps of her shoes with each step she took being the only sound echoing through the empty corridor. She only moved in circles before the large door separating her from your room in which you were recovering, her thoughts clouded with unrest and anxiety regarding your current condition. Closing her eyes, Furina’s back pressed against the wall, slumping down slightly with a shaky sigh as her head tilted back to try and regain some sense of clarity.

It was horrifying. The grotesque sight of bloodstained flower petals cornering your lip whenever a series guttural screams were heard from your room was absolutely mortifying to lay eyes upon, the silk white sheets splattered an oozing crimson. Vision all blurred, your upper body would rock from side to side even while sitting down to keep your balance, your hand cupped below your chin to prevent the blood from spilling any further—yet your efforts were futile once you collapsed back onto the mattress in exhaustion.

The sight of you lying there, blood pooled below your outstretched, frail body wrenched Furina’s chest with sorrow. All she could do was sit there in silence, unable to do anything while you suffered. It tormented her day and night, images of your aching frame clasping a hand over your mouth and being racked by fervent coughs. All she would hear was a string of violent coughing fits, and you trying to desperately stop, often by holding your own breath. However, it would be in vain as they rasped through your throat and spattered stains of blood onto the blanket pulled over your lap.

Yet the worst thing of all, was the revelation that the source of your excruciating suffering was Furina herself. She couldn’t help but bite back a sob once she strolled past your door, overhearing you muttering about how you felt about her to Neuvillette, voice pained as you choked out how she wouldn’t feel the same way. Upon hearing that conversation, Furina only froze in place for a couple moments, before lowering her hat to shield her glassy eyes, and getting herself far away from your room. The moment she was alone, the former hydro archon wept quietly to herself at the revelation, believing she was the one who put you through this hellish pain.

However, she decided to atone on one fateful day, when the sunlight poured in through the parted curtains through the window, and livened the sickly hue of your skin. Your eyelids remained shut, yet you still stirred from the light intruding your eyes, feeling like they were burning into your skull. Awoken by a faint knock, you sat up expectantly as your bleary vision shifted to the woman before you. You attempted to swipe your thumb across the corners of your lips, frantically trying to scratch off the dried blood soiling your face as soon as you recognized Furina.

The second she confessed, every fuzzy sense of yours suddenly shone with a sense of clarity, the world seemingly stopping its rotation for the two of you in that moment. The flowering plant embedded in your lungs felt as if it paused its growth as your brain registered the words “I love you” out loud. All of a sudden, your shoulders lowered themselves in relaxation, chest suddenly feeling lighter as you were able to sit upright to embrace Furina in your arms. You weren’t even close to completely healed, yet the simple contentment of your love being requited ceased the searing pain eating away at your body.

“Lady Furina, you can come in now.”

Furina simply nodded, pushing her way into your room slowly as to not disturb your rest. She breathed out a relieved sigh, seeing your head laid onto the soft pillows as the freshly washed blankets enveloped your body. This time when she came to see you, the sight was much more pleasant to gaze upon compared to last time, the blankets remained an untouched clean white rather than painted red. A few raspy coughs still snuck their way through occasionally, yet it was part of the recovery process as the flowering plant began to decay.

“(Name)?” Furina called out, clearing her throat. “How are you feeling? Any better?”

Your eyes lit up upon seeing Furina approach you, halting at the foot of the bed as to not startle you too much.

“Furina! You’re here!” You exclaimed, clearing your own throat as well to answer her question. “And yeah, I’m feeling a lot more light. I still occasionally have some coughs here and there, but no more blood or flower petals.”

She exhaled softly, bringing her white gloved hand to her forehead. “Thank god…” she breathed out reluctantly. You could practically sense the built up worry in her tone, the sight of you nearing death in such a brutal way had still left a scar in her mind.

“I just..I can’t help but wonder- what if I never said it? What if I was too late?” She choked out, tears brimming the corner of her eyes. She shrank in slightly, folding her arms as her hands rubbed over her elbows periodically. You couldn’t bear the sight of her like this. It wasn’t her fault, and she needed to know that. So as a good girlfriend, you extended your arms, gesturing Furina to come lay on you.

Without hesitation, she collapsed onto your chest. The poor woman was probably in just as much pain emotionally as you were physically from the awful thought of the worst possible outcome of you dying. A mellow sigh left your tinted lips as your fingers weaved through Furina’s hair comfortingly, causing her to only lean further into your touch in response.

“Furi. I’m fine now…there’s no need to worry, okay? I’ll only get better from here on out..”

A weak sniffle left her as she just nodded, hands grasping onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I know. It’s just- that sight hurt so bad to see- and knowing I was the reason for-!”

“You weren’t the reason. You didn’t know.” You interrupted, bringing a hand up to rest on her tear stained cheek. “And besides, since you did confess…now I’m recovering. I’m doing a lot better now in fact..”

Reaching over, you picked up a glass of water between your slippery fingertips, bringing it to your lips with wobbly hands as you gulped the water carefully. Your uncoordinated movements concerned Furina, yet your reassuring expression made her push that thought back. You were healing. That was all that mattered. There was a slight pause in your movements before you let out an exasperated sigh at the empty water pitcher. It wasn’t a big deal, yet it did get annoying to constantly ask for refills when you’re constantly downing glasses of water to soothe your parched throat.

Furina sat up, responding with a contented sigh as she walked over to the bedside table. “I’ll go refill it for you now that I’m here anyway.” She replied, her voice seemingly more relaxed now. You gave a soft hum in response, pulling the cloud like blankets over yourself to remedy the sudden shivers and cold feeling washing over your body. Suddenly, Furina’s heterochromic eyes lit up as if a lightbulb had just popped over her head.

“Oh! Right..I forgot something.” She exclaimed, tilting her chin down as she fumbled through her shirt pocket while you looked in confusion. She has a shirt pocket-?

You blinked in surprise as you were met face to face with a fresh bright blue lakelight lily. Furina bent over slightly into a bow as she presented you with the flower, peeking at you with one eye open as if to see your reaction. A warm, fluffy feeling spread through your body as you graciously accepted the flower from her faintly shaky hand, not being able to help the small giggle that left you at her gentlemanly behavior.

Without another moment of doubt, you set the flower down on the bedside table and cupped Furina’s face, palms caressing her cheeks as you pulled her in nose to nose against you. Both of your eyes closed as you basked in the comfort of Furina’s touch and affection, accepting her love gratefully.

“I love you, Furina.”

A/N: fun fact, my take on hanahaki disease is where it only happens if they believe that their love is unrequited, but the other person actually has feelings for them. This not only makes it seem less forced, but also multiples the angst TENFOLD if the afflicted person ends up dying and the other person has to live with the guilt of not confessing :3

[felibrary]

COLUMBA

synopsis: rainbow roses represent love and passion. similar to the feelings you’ve harbored for lyney ever since the two of you were children, feelings full of determination and tenderness.you take the initiative to confess your feelings,  the cards are already laid out on the table, the choices have already been written out and decided. besides one: the one that reveals lyneys response. how will he react?

✧ pairing: lyney x reader | wordcount: 2.1k | content and warnings: fluff, angst, confessing feelings | prompt: unrequited love | oneshot

✧ authors note: i might dislike this one even more than the "wish you were sober" one... this one's just so much more choppier</3

✧ tags: @azullumi

event: STARCROSSED 2024

“and a rainbow rose for you!” 

the sly magician winks at you as he reaches out his gloved hand to yours. lyneys slender fingers are gracefully wrapped around the stem of the colorful flower. he looks at you, eyes full of anticipation as he awaits your reaction. 

his eyes twinkle like an amethyst - a gem that gleams and reflects the fluorescent light as it gets shone upon, presenting the purity that lies hidden beneath the depths of the pair of eyes. the irises that are drenched in a deep purple glint with a certain shimmer that you can’t quite make out. if you were to take a guess you’d say that they look hopeful, buoyant, almost fond. 

seriously, who were you to deny him? his smile is probably worth a fortune, it’s blithe practically dreamy. the ash blond is undeniably a beauty among the nation of justice - a seraphic seashell that lies buried in the fine sand, easily seeping through the tiny gaps of the palms as it is held with utter care. petite sand corns disappearing out of sight and the only object that remains in the hands is the mussel. 

it basks in the radiant sunlight and the sand that slipped out of the grasp of the fingers can only watch in envy, as the seashell continues to relish in the gentleness of the person who discovered it. the one who is allowed to see its beauty and all the secrets that are kept sealed beneath.

amid the vague living room light, lyney continues to shine as elegant as ever. his stage presence long-forgotten, revealing his true nature to you, the lyney whom you know, the one whom you grew up with, the one who makes your heart race. the lyney that shows himself to the outside world is simply just the celebrated magician of the court of fontaine but there was much more to lyney, so much more. 

to the people of fontaine he’s like the backside of a playing card, unaware of the image, the number, the symbol that is imprinted on it. but that’s not the case for you. unlike them you know lyney like the back of your hand. the two of you grew up together at the house of the hearth. under the care of father with lynette, freminet and the other children that resided there. 

no matter how many times lyney and lynette tried to trick you with one of their new learned magic tricks, you’ve always seen through them. nevertheless you weren’t able to deny that they were really impressive, especially for children of such a young age. naturally, over the years he grew up to be a grand magician, not only wrapping the audience that was seated in the rich red places in the court around his fingers, but also you. luring you in by coaxing mellow praises into your ear and simple gestures like this one, offering you a rainbow rose a day before a performance. 

an action that never fails to make you swoon.

his incandescent eyes, the ones that glow like a vibrant glass shard that got swept to the shore by the tide, his million dollar smile that is plastered on his pale face, they are the traits that make lyney look simply irresistible. 

(you don't think you could ever reject lyneys advances, after all you’ve already fallen far too deep into the bottomless abyss, also known as love, to search for your path out.)

right now, at this moment you think lyney looks absolutely majestic, heavenly even. taking a snapshot of this wouldn’t be enough to capture the beauty of lyney. neither would a portrait do the job well. the movements of the paintbrush are delicate, swiftly moving around the canvas, but they’re not enough. no matter how many brushstrokes were to be painted, they still wouldn’t be enough. 

(either way he’d outshine every other painting that gets hung next to his. he’s the muse that will always be out of everyone's reach.) 

simply because lyneys beauty, his bare nature, is something to keep etched into your mind, engraving it onto stone so that it will never fade or wash away, no matter the circumstances.

you reciprocate his action, accepting the flower. grasping the rainbow rose carefully, so that the stem doesn’t crinkle and eventually falls into two pieces or the blossom loses its petals. “my, what’s the occasion?” a performance awaits the folk of fontaine tomorrow. you already knew the answer, but, nevertheless you question him. lyneys honeyed voice is a sound you’ll never get tired of. listening to him as he talks never feels like a chore, rather, it feels like a voluntary course that isn’t important at all. but nevertheless you stick around, to not miss what others don't get to see.

“well, as you might already know, a performance awaits the folk of fontaine tomorrow.” the magician responds. you can only chuckle at that, predicting lyney has always been easy for you. 

“is that so? i can't wait.” you give him a small grin and take another peek at the flower. beautiful, you think to yourself as you look up to lyney once again. the corners of your mouth curve into a content smile. lyney stares right back at you and does the same, giving you a bright grin in return that makes your heart pump quickly. 

the brightness of lyneys smile competes with the one of the sun, it’s warm and welcoming. it works wonders like medicine, soothing and curing your wounds with a simple grin. lyney is out of this world, he's charismatic, making you fall for him head over heels. fun to be around, always making you laugh over stupid jokes. and not to mention caring. 

the first two buttons of his white dress shirt are unbuttoned, showing off his delicate collarbone. lyney was never particularly muscular, rather, he had a quite slender build.

“i’ve never put much effort into my physical training as in my shows. after all, i have an audience to bewitch with magic tricks, not my body."  you recall his words and the giggle he let out after.

some strands of his ash blonde hair are out of place, including his dyed one. his maroon colored hair slightly stands out, but you don’t mind, it's similar to the color of a maple leaf, vivid and lively. flying through the wind, admired by passersby as it floats around in the air. out of reach until someone takes the chance to grab it. 

“by the way, where’s the thank you?” lyney jokes in an offended manner. his sultry voice snapping you out of your former haze. 

“hm?” you tilt your head to the side.

“for the flower.” he points at the rose with his gloved finger. 

“ah, right. thanks a lot, it's really pretty.” you thank him by giving him another smile. before casting your gaze down to the rose again, admiring the colorful petals as you remember charlotte's words. 

“for example, magicians often use “rainbow roses” in their flower related performances to represent passion and romantic encounters.” her words stuck to you like a millstone around one’s neck. surely lyney knows what they mean, he’s not unaware what they symbolize right?

it makes you wonder if lyney is aware of your feelings, and possibly even returns them. lyney has always had a keen eye for the beauty of this world, attentively swaying his gaze around and admiring the elegance that lies within each individual. did lyney also see that kind of beauty in you? one that goes even further down, reaching into the inescapable depths. but then he’d face the ugliness that slummers at the bottom, despite that, how is lyney able to love you? 

for you the beauty of this planet has always been lyney. he’s the sun that you bask in, relishing in its warmth as the sun tendrils place delicate kisses on your body. the water that engulfs your body, plattering against your limbs and makes you feel refreshed. he’s the blood that runs through your veins, the one that makes you function properly.  

the question still lingers in the air: does lyney reciprocate your feelings? 

your grip around the rose is tight, fearing that it might slip out of your grasp when you’re inattentive and losing it. you watch lyney make his way to the stage, the crowd already awaits their renowned magician, waiting in and staring in awe as he performs another unpredictable magic trick. 

the air is thick, the tension increases at every passing second, for both you and the crowd. if lyney takes another step, you’ll lose the lyney you know, your lyney. instead you’ll have to watch as he takes up on his persona, even if it’s only for a mere hour, it always feels like an eternity to you, until you get to see the lyney whom you love again. 

besides the sound of lyney who was shuffling his cards thoroughly once again, it was dead silent.

“nervous?” lyney looks up to you, a knowing glint in his eyes. 

“huh?” you’re confused, what is he implying.

“the way you fiddle with your fingers.” he points at your hands with one of the cards, a red heart you notice. “you only do that when you're anxious.” lyney says. “come on, tell me what’s wrong, you know that i’m always here for you, right?” he gives you a reassuring smile, a genuine smile that isn’t there to satisfy his guests. 

sometimes you forget how easy it is for lyney to see right through you. you nod as a response to his observation. “yeah, ironic isn't it? i’m nervous even though you’re the one who’ll enter the stage at any given moment now.” you try to sound steady, trying to convince yourself. but your voice betrays you, it quivers.

“aww.” lyney coos at you. “you know i hate that expression on you, do you not?” the ash blond sighs dramatically, purple eyes still maintaining eye contact, a fond shadow casting over his pupils. “how am i supposed to go out and present, knowing that my best friend is dying from nervousness.” he jokes, shaking his head. before he looks up at you once again with a look that says “don’t worry.”

best friend. 

“lyney.“ you try to gather your courage, how does one confess their feelings to the person whom they adore?  lyney smiles at you “yeah? i’m all ears.”

“lyney, you’re probably already aware of my feelings. but i really like you.  i love you. i've loved you ever since we got introduced to one another, ever since we were children.” you don’t dare to look him into his eyes, too embarrassed by your confession just now. you play with the fabric of your freshly ironed shirt a bit, to distract yourself, as you await lyneys reactions.

“archons, since when were you this sentimental?” lyney laughs out. “that’s what you were afraid of telling me?” he takes a few steps so that he stands in front of you now. “gotten all shy now?” the magician teases before patting your head. the action makes you look up, greeted by lyneys smile . “i love you too. youre like another sibling to me.” he slightly tilts his head to the side. "even though we’re not blood related, it just feels like we’re family, don’t you think?”

“no! lyney that's not what i-” you protest but you get cut off by the announcement.

“and now ladies and gentlemen, presenting fontaines renowned duo, mr. lyney and ms. lynette! a big applause please!” 

“ah!” lyney looks behind him where everything was already set up and put in place. “i suppose that is my sign to leave. farewell!” he inches away from you. “let’s reunite after the show, shall we?” he winks at you and bids you goodbye before rushing off to make his way over to the stage.

you remain glued to the floor, frozen in place after you’ve just gotten rejected. you hope this is just another one of lyneys antics, a joke that he will later on reveal as faux and tell you that he reciprocates your feelings. but you know that he won't. yes, perhaps lyney is a liar, a good one at that. he has lied to a dozen people before, but never once to you. 

the rainbow rose in your head shines vividly in the dim lightning, its petals making it glow beautifully. you’re not sure what came over you, frustration, regret, remorse. you’re not certain. the petals that were once finely attached to the pistil, will be gone, you rip the petals off, one by one.

he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not.

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

e/n: "i got sibling-zoned." "that's rough buddy."

[blackdollette]

ive never made a request before im a bit nervy omg

but could u maybe do smth about like a sweet innocent little y/n meeting euro (or maybe even kappa) and he just wants to ruin her innocence and make her a total whore for him (maybe slight undertones of cnc IF youre comfortable with that)

K IM NERVOUS TY

don't be nervous, anon! thank you so much for reaching out & sharing your ideas!

"said i was flawless, true perfection." | euronymous

ridin'. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart@imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35

female!reader x r!euronymous

word count: 1.7k

contents: blowjob, public sex, masturbation

who the hell thought it would be a good idea to sell lana del rey vinyls in a black metal record store?

business at the shop had been slow. euronymous sat behind the cashier, lighting himself a cigarette as the clock neared noon. he sighed deeply, putting his feet on the desk as he took the tv remote, flipping through channels mindlessly. he’d figured to take his break a little early. it didn’t seem like anyone was planning on showing up anyway.

the sun outside shone just a little too bright. euronymous groaned, standing up and making his way to the window to close the blinds. he peeked outside through the glass, the streets nearly empty with the exception of the occasion person strolling by. he grumbled, closing the shutters and rubbing a stressed hand over his face. he needed to make a sale, even if it was only one. all he needed was an angel from heaven to stroll by…

the bell above the door chimed, snapping euronymous out of his train of thoughts. “we’re off for break, man. come back in an hour.” he muttered. you froze in your tracks, raising an eyebrow. you cleared your throat and he glanced over at you. “i said get los-” he finally locked eyes with you, seeing a woman instead of his usual audience.

his eyes were wide with shock as they travelled down your body. you were just about the furthest thing from death metal he’d ever seen walk into the shop. it’s not like you were adorned in pastel rainbows, but he’d never expect someone like you to show up at a store like this.

he cleared his throat, walking back behind the desk as you began to stroll through the shop. “i don’t think we have the type of music you listen to, lady?” already at the section for the artist you were looking for, you looked at him. “you sure? cuz i think i see what i need right here.” you rolled your eyes, starting to flip through different albums as euronymous glared at you.

this new sale was already attracting all the wrong types of people. you looked like a doll, one meant to be used and destroyed by a ruthless owner. not wandering through a black metal store like it was your second home. silence filled the environment, much to your comfort but it made euronymous very uncomfortable. he’d been used to cracking conversations with whoever walked through the door, but he didn’t know how to go about that with you.

after taking a deep breath, he spoke. “everything going okay over there?” his words were forced, but you looked back at him with a smile. “going just fine, thanks.” your sweet words had a bite to them, like you were mocking him for something. he found himself getting intrigued about a person he had met less than a minute ago.

after what felt like an eternity, you picked 5 vinyls and took them to the cashier. you set them down in front of him, you two now less than a foot apart. he glanced at you as he rang up your items. “you come to places like this often, doll?” you swallowed hard, shaking your head. he added up the total before reading it out to you. “your total will be $401.59.” your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “400 dollars?! i don’t have that kind of money on me!” you bent over to read the total off his screen, your tight dress slipping down your chest slowly and revealing your cleavage to him.

your breasts waved right in front of his eyes and his breath grew shallow. your arousing scent filled his nostrils. he squirmed slightly in his seat, heart hammering in his chest. you were almost completely revealing your tits to him compeltely by accident. he had only know you for a few minutes and was already getting a taste of how naive you were.

his gaze bored into your chest until you stood upright again, picking at your fingernails. “i-i had no idea that these would be so expensive…” euronymous clasped his hands over his lap, a boner already sprouting underneath. “well you’ve gotta pay for them one way or another, lady.” he paused, a sinister idea brewing in his mind. “i’d hate to get the cops involved in our business.”

your heart stopped for a second as you frantically shook your hea.d “n-no, of course not…” you sighed deeply, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. you looked right into his cold eyes, speaking so softly that he could barely hear you. “p-please, find it in your heart to help me out. i’ll… i’ll do anything…” that line alone was the perfect telltale of how much porn you watched, but maybe euronymous was the clueless one for not picking up on your obvious hints.

you fiddled with the thin chain aorund your neck, pouting slightly as his pupils dilated. he stood up from his seat with a small grin, extending his hand to you. “let’s step into my office, sweetheart. then we can talk business.” you nodded, taking his cold, pasty hand in yours as he walked you into the small room behind him, locking the door.

he looked at you right in your cartoon eyes, your face resembling one of a make-believe character that was too good to be true. he leaned against his personal desk, beckoning you to come closer to him. ou stood right infront of him, his arm slowly slithering around your waist. he spoke in a whisper, eyes locked on your nipples that barely poked out through your dress.

“you want those records real bad, don’t you?” you nodded, chest rising and falling slowly as you took deep reaths. his smile turned slightly sadistic as he pulled you into him, his breath hitting the cave of your ear. “then i’m going to make you work for it, whore…” you almost choked as euronymous grabbed the neck of your dress, tugging it down and making your tits pop out.

your gasped, your pierced nipples painfully erect. he kneaded your bugs between his fingers, making your knees go weak, much to his pleasure. the boner he had been fighting all this while was roaring to be let out, a mess of precum already spilling in his black jeans. “get on your knees, bitch.” you went down without protest, your face an inch away from his bulge. he grabbed the back of your head, bringing your lips to it and making you kiss him through the fabric, a low groan escaping his lips.

his dick throbbed and tiwtched through the denim, his body instantly reacting to your indirect touch. “tell me you want this cock, doll… say it.” you swallowed hard, gazing up at him trough your eyelashes as you spoke hoarsely. “i-i want your cock, sir…” you didn’t know what to address him as, so you went with the best choice. he smiled, his hand moving to unbuckled the weapon of a belt that was around his thin waist.

the metal clanged to the ground. he unbuttoned his jeans, biting his lip as his cock sprung out and slapping the base of his stomach, nearly hitting you in the face. you flinched, mouth gaping open. “i-it’s so big…” you whispered, making him chuckle. “and you’re gonna take every inch of it, you hear me?” you nodded, feeling a soaking sensation spreading in your panties.

he gave himself a few lazy pumps, connecting the tip with your lips. you opened you mouth slightly, not enough for him to fit himself in. he grabbed your jaw, forcing it open all the way before shoving himself all the way in. you gagged eyes welling with tears as he grabbed the side of your head.

he put on a fake pout. “aw, too big for you, angel?” his arrogance was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, but you let him have it. a deal was a deal. one you adjusted to his size, you slowly began to bob your head up and down his shaft, gazing up at him with shiny eyes. his core heated up as he listened to your lewd gagging and gurgling.

“you’re a natural, you nasty bitch…” his eyes shaded like a lust-filled haze, as if you were the only thing in the world right now. your hands felt completely useless in this whole ordeal, so you reach one underneath your dress, starting to touch yourself through your panties. you moaned softly, the vibrations feeling like pure bliss to him.

his hair feel into his face as profanities slurred out from him. he slammed his cock into your throat, not even lettinig you get a breath of air. but the pleasure outweighed the discomfort for you, your fingers coating in your liquids as you slipped your panties to the side. he noticed this in an instant, his voice growing shaky. “y-yeah… touch yourself for me, you slut…”

you used your other hand to fondle his balls as they slapped against your chin. his tip repeatedly rammed into your uvula, the slaty taste of his precum making your throat convulse around him. he used his thumbs to gently wipe the tears rolling down your cheeks. he forcefully fucked your face as you fingered yourself even quicker. his cock abosrbed your moans like a sponge, the feeling being better than anything he’d ever felt.

his moans becamemore intense and more frequent as the warmth of your throat took him in like a blanket. time began to go elastic as euronymous felt the pleasure getting to his head. the sound of your gurgling was intoxicating. you swirled your tongue around his girth, finally pushing him to the edge. he bit his lip, drawing blod as he whipped himself out of your mouth and shot his cum onto your tits like he was frositng a cake.

you panted as he the string s his you, a smile growing on your face. “such a dirty girl…” you licked his tip, cleaning off the last bit of cum and finishing him off. his breath was heavy like he just ran a marathon. you stood back up, tucking your tits back into your dress and trying not to ruin it with his cum.

euronymous slowly tucked his cock back into his pants, fixing up his hair as the sound of customers reminded him of where he was. he cleared his throat, looking at you deeply. “it was a pleasure doing business with you ma’am. enjoy the records, completely free of charge.”

author's note: back to shcool tomorrow :((

[three-realms-archive]

What is Up, Fellow Celestials?

You and Simeon had been dreading this day, ever since Luke had first taken an interest in humans. Luke had little interest in humanity before you came along - but, upon observation, he quickly realised that the humans who looked like him were so… freshly-baked. So… new. So young.

“Maybe this is why MC always sticks around when I use the oven…” The young angel muttered, observing a group of human students playing at a human park. They looked like him - speaking in voices that sounded like his. His eye followed one human boy in particular, who lay down in some kind of oversized, wooden tray. The human’s fist, filled with sand, was getting very close to his open mouth.

“What a stupid human.” Luke mumbled, watching the boy’s mother come over to save him. “I’d never do anything like that.”

Suddenly, he heard a group of humans (thankfully not in the sandy box) cheering. Out of the corner of his eye, one of their group - a human girl with swoopy, rainbow hair and metal growing on her teeth - flashed into view. She rode a panel of wood on wheels, arms adorned with colourful rectangles of paper, and little flashes of light shone from the soles of her shoes when she walked. Luke’s eyes widened, hypnotised. She spat when she spoke - mouth smiling big and opening wide. This human girl radiated pure confidence. Not only that, but MC had never used any of the words he was hearing her say now. He wondered why.

But one thing was certain.

… This girl was really, really cool.

…

“Sure, whatevs, MC.” Luke huffed in what was an oddly-enthusiastic portrayal of nonchalant. He wasn’t wearing his usual hat to RAD today. His hair was bubble-gum blue and seaweed green; and smelled suspiciously like the paint used in last period’s art class. “We can play catch after class. I hope to show the brothers my, um, swagger; before then. I’ll play catch with you later too, Simeon."

You and Simeon blinked, staring dumbfoundedly at each other as Luke rolled away. Literally rolled. On what looked like a celestial hoverboard. Where did he get that?

“I think… I think he meant to say he’d catch us later.” You started slowly. Simeon looked like his body had encountered an error. “And that he wants to show his bros - maybe he wanted to say swag? Do angels know human slang?”

Simeon wasn’t responding. You frowned, concerned.

“Simeon? Simeon, are you okay?” You say, shaking the angel’s shoulder. “Do you need water?”

Simeon slowly turned his head to you. His spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

“Luke… He looks so cool.”

(hehe this was just a little fun, i need to give the dateables more love. the last part is inspired by that audio drama where simeon gets excited by turning a laptop on, its great go listen to it, i think it accompanied his character song. i also think that, if luke ever had a crush on someone, they’d be someone with a very strong aesthetic. could be something like this cool skater girl, or like cutesy bows/frills/dresses i can see too. as long as it’s really striking)

[kairismess]

just let him adore you. — atsumu miya x reader

🎧 song inspo: adore you by harry styles.

🏐 genre: fluffiness with a good brew of coffee ~

✒️ word count: 1,006

💭 summary: atsumu could never move on from the one who made his heart skip a beat at first glance, he held you in his heart, even after six years, for him to grab this very opportunity to tell you how he really feels.

🍥 author's note: time to spread the harry styles agenda (i'm so late to the party)

it was one sunny morning at the local cafe atsumu frequented, there was nothing out of the ordinary that day–just the same, average routine for the pro volleyball player, when he wasn't being noticed in public, that is. he was surprisingly very good at being lowkey, especially at the one place he found the most relaxation at.

on that day, that day when the light, feathery clouds let the sun's warm rays seem through it–he was greeted by the voice of someone who sounded familiar by the counter. he turned his head to see his old classmate from high school, smiling up at him, wearing that usually mundane, boring uniform of the cafe, that looked a thousand times prettier now that you were wearing it.

he's cheeks went flushed without him realizing it, and his honey colored pupils dilated as his lips parted, his mouth hung a little open. he tried to compose himself after you called out to him again, smiling still, and he shook his head, coughing a bit. "ah, yeah, um... can i get a, uh..." he stammered, unsure now of what his usual even was anymore because: one, you didn't usually take his order–and two, it was you who was going to take his order.

you, the exchange student that ended up in his class and brightened his uneventful days up with the small hint of your smile–you, who sat next to him in class and beat him to greeting you first–you, whose pretty strawberry lipstick always made your lips shine and appear glossier, and always had a sort of colorful way of looking at and doing things.

with you, atsumu always felt like he was in a rainbow state of paradise. but today, unfortunately, it felt like today he was stuck at one end of the rainbow spectrum at a time, since... you probably didn't recognize him–and, even if you did, he wasn't sure if you'd even remember him.

well, no harm in starting over again, he thought to himself as he finally got his order out to you and you went right to work at punching his order in and making it. atsumu really felt like his usual today would be a lot more flavorful than his ordinary 'usual', because today, the first person to ever make his heart beat a tiny bit more was going to make it.

"so... ya been 'ere long?" he asked you with a partially confident smile as he watched you brew his drink. you chuckled and responded that, no, you hadn't been working here for long–you'd barely been here for a month, actually. atsumu nodded as he watched you pour in the rest of the contents of his drink, mixing them up into a beautiful slurry of shades and lights. "for a rookie, y'sure are great at this whole coffee makin' thing." you smiled at his compliment. "and... you sure are nice, mister." you complimented him back, making him blush and smile wider.

atsumu snickered as he leaned over on the counter as he watched you cover his drink and began to write his order down. "alright, um, your name, sir?" "you first." he teases, grinning sneakily, making you laugh a little at how smooth he was. you pointed to your name tag and giggled. "right here." "i know, but... there's somethin' real pretty about ya and yer name, i wanna hear what it's like for ya to introduce yerself ta me, if it ain't too much ta ask for." he admitted, blushing a little as his eyes shone even more staring up at you with a wide smile on his blushing face.

you gave in and introduced yourself to him, and atsumu repeated your name, as if to take in the fact that, indeed, you were the one that made his heart patter all those six years ago–with the same way you carried yourself and said your name, how your eyes gleamed with a darling innocence and brightness to them, and how you always seemed to catch his heartstrings and squeeze his heart in all the right places to make him love you so, so much more the more you two talked and casually spent time together.

"alright, well... tsum." "tsum?" you asked him, feeling as though you've heard that name before, somewhere in a chapter of your past that you could kind of but not wholly remember. atsumu nodded. "spell it however ya want, i ain't that uptight 'bout it." he spoke, trusting you that you'd remember him well enough, even just barely, to spell his name the way you always did–because you gave him that nickname, 'tsum', and he grew to love it ever since, because... you gave him that name when you two became friends.

"this may be strange, tsum, but... i feel like i know you from somewhere." you confessed, feeling a bit awkward and shy. atsumu chuckled and thanked you for the drink, his long, calloused fingers brushing against your own when he received the drink. "well... so do i, actually." "really?" "i think... i've seen ya in m'dreams before." he teased, which was semi-true, he had occasionally dreamt of you here and there after graduation, wondering if you two would ever meet again.

it surprised him how calm he was, seeing the first person he ever truly loved right before him–and though he was always confused about what exactly he felt about you back then since he was so young and unsure... he knows how he really feels now, and he couldn't be any happier to feel it again and see you, be with you in the very cafe he loved visiting.

he doesn't mind how long it takes, he doesn't need you to love him, you don't have to say anything to fill the silence with him or say you're his when you two are starting out again–he'd gladly walk through fire for you, he'd do any and everything for you... just let him adore you. it's all he'll ever do, and all he's ever done.

[amaya-eve]

Prettier than a Flower

“hurry up, i have places to be you know” wanderer complains, walking behind you in the crowded market place of sumeru.

lesser lord kusanali tasked you with getting the wanderer out of his shell and explore sumeru a bit. its been a while since you were able to go out of the akademiya, so you used this opportunity to grab some things you needed.

you decided to take him to the market, where he can witness the everyday lives of normal people and experience the hospitality of sumeru... and also because you needed to buy some new gear. but nonetheless you really were just trying to get him to interact with others!

today was beaming, the sun’s rays shone brightly and lit up the place, further glorifying the displays on the many stalls that lined the street. while viewing random stalls, you came across a shop that sold scrolls you’ve been looking for, and at a discounted price! 

“hold on a bit will ya? this is the last store i promise” 

he only sighed deeply as a response.

he had no other choice but to stand idly and wait for you of to walk around and see the place for himself. 

in his opinion, he’s seen enough and just want out of this place but a small cart that sold flowers caught his eye. 

the cart was very small, barely the size of a table but it looked well taken care of, especially the plants that filled it to the brim. it was a rainbow all over, from the body of the cart to its canopy.

‘blooming color’ a sign in front read. while observing a bright pink flower, he failed to notice an old lady behind him, with a sweet smile on her lips. 

“i wonder who’s the lucky person?” she said.

“huh?”

“you’ve been so attentive of my flowers my dear, may i help you choose one? just tell me what kind of lover they are, and i’ll pick the most fitting  flower!” 

“old woman, you got it wrong. im not getting flowers for anybody” scara said, crossing his arms seemingly offended.

a soft chime of bells rang from a distance. “wanderer! im almost finished here, just have to wait for the brushes” you called out to him and he turned to look at you.

you stepped out a bit, letting the light hit your face. the golden hue of light illuminated your features, making you more stunning than you already were. and as nature does, the wind blew at the perfect timing, slightly grazing over your hair and making it dance gracefully in the air.

at this moment scara’s world paused. time worked in slow motion and he was thankful it was because he has more time to appreciate your beauty. he was lost in thought and forgot about the situation he was in.

“so she’s the one? rightfully so.” she chuckled.

lost in his imagination, wanderer finally awakens. 

“she’s an acquaintance, nothing more.” he said while looking down, thought it did sound like he was convincing himself more that he was the old lady.

“take this” she said handing him a small bouquet of (color of your choice) flower. “i reckon they’re actually your lover, confess before its too late.”

...

[dooberific]

❝𝘖𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘍𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦❞

pre release wriothesley x afab!reader

genre: nsfw (dacryphilia, creampie, idk how to finish tagging this hehe)

wc: 2.7k

summary: Despite his imposing stature, your lover is the softest and most genuine man you know. His regular praises make it seem like you hung the very stars in the sky, so why his sudden withdrawl?

There was just something different about the flowers of Fontaine. Maybe it had something to do with the land, moist plains sweeping up into sharp mountain peaks that passed a gentle breeze over the winding waterways below. The easy smell of rain, the babbling streams that fed into raging waterfalls that drenched all below in a fine mist. 

They seemed to grow a little differently, proud and tall like the Rainbow roses dotting the hillsides, their very own fine bonnets adorning their heads as their brilliant appearances dazzled passing strangers.

Perhaps that was why the simplicity of the Marcotte slipped under so many eyes, winding through life with a silent elegance and glowing smile so heartfelt and utterly kind that even the most icy of hearts would tremble under the warmth of her gaze. She would never be a rose, nor would she ever entertain the thought of it, laughing away the idea with great mirth dancing in her eyes and a grin lingering on her lips well after the encounter. 

You may never be a rose, but your simplistic and nostalgic charms had catalyzed such a violent reaction that he was sure you had hung the very sun in the sky, elevating its position as a kindness for your own radiance far out shone the largest star in the Teyvat sky. 

But if you were the Marcotte, so delicate and pure, then what was he? Surely he was nothing but a weed in the garden of the gods, a wicked thing who rose from the dirt to strangle the life out of the pretty and soft things around. There was a trail of battered roses in his wake, resentful that the weed had never blossomed into something worthwhile as they had dreamed, that it had spent their precious time, basked in their light, and then left them to wither away in anger. 

But the Marcotte was wild and resilient, your unbreakable and hearty spirit more than strong enough to carry your own burdens with grace and dignity even before you had unfurled your brilliant petals. 

Pure and wild chased by the impure and plotting.

You should resent him for his wickedness, his impudence to dare stand under the same sun as you. He couldn’t help himself, he was little more than a moth drawn to a flame, a weed that kept creeping back into the garden. How long had he waited, chasing fleeting images and the feeling a hand could never hope to emulate, before your own interests had become so entranced that you allowed him closer? 

He would swear it was all unintentional from the beginning, that it had all started as a draw to your magnetic personality. Fleeting kisses of parting after he walked you home at night giving way to deeper intentions as he cornered you against the door and indulged you a little more intimately. The wet slide of his tongue into your mouth, the firmness of his hands trailing down your sides and toying with the hem of your shirt. The little whines from your lips as your fingers carded through his hair, a sting in your calves from standing on your toes as his chapped lips ravaged your neck, your body pressed flush to his own. 

It was such a natural progression until it suddenly wasn’t. Kisses left broken as he hastily departed, a harsh flush creeping to his ears as he apologized and took his leave. The onset of his behavior had left your head spinning with questions. Had you done something wrong? He never acted strangely about you until those last and most private moments together, maybe his interest was waning? If you had grown boring you would understand, it wasn’t like your job or life were particularly riveting—

Too many unasked questions, and too much sleep lost. You were not so shy or proud to confront an issue head on, and while Wriothesley loved that trait of your personality he loved it a little less when it was weaponized against him as you stood at his door, a finger pressed to his lips and a stern yet wary look in your eyes as you shushed his questions and gave him a piece of your own mind.

He really was nothing short of a weed, too cowardly to have confronted the issue before it had become a problem. He was a liar, unable to hold your burning gaze as he forced some half-assed excuse past his lips. He certainly could not tell you that his hasty departures had been the product of your evening rendezvouses which simply stoked the fire that the all consuming thoughts of you kept burning in his veins, of the perverse feeling stirred by the lovesick look in your eyes that was increasingly hard to resist. There would be no kindness in those pretty eyes should you know that he could barely touch you now without getting hard, that a moment too long basking in your presence would surely have him cumming in his pants with the same choked gasp that he so poorly suppressed as he jerked himself off later fantasizing your pretty cunt wrapped around him. 

There was no question of want, he needed you. He needed to defile you with every dirty thought that ever dizzied his head, to have you fucked dumb on his cock and begging for more because you knew he couldn’t resist. What a shitty lover he felt like, having let you think you had ever done a thing wrong when it was just his own self disgust that he couldn’t keep it together that was wedging you apart. 

Maybe just once he could show you, and if you hated him for it he could beg for your forgiveness. Just this once he would kiss you like always, whispers of reassurance passing between you that there was nothing wrong with you, you were perfect. Just this once would he not fight the onslaught of debauched feelings that flooded him the moment you sighed against his lips, parting your own at the gentle tease of his tongue. He would kiss you deeply and with no regrets or holds, making your head spin from the lack of oxygen as the feeling of his warm hands settling on your body as he pressed you against the wall. He wouldn’t make some shitty excuse to leave when he felt his pants tighten, nor would he apologize for the moment he grinded his hips deeply against your own in search of that heavenly bit of friction only you could provide. 

He swallowed your surprised gasp, hell bent on smothering you with every ounce of his affection with sloppy kisses and a tangle of tongue. One hand settled at the nape of your neck anchoring you to him as the other hooked under your thigh, drawing it up to rest at his hip as he pressed deeper between your legs and you whimpered at the roll of his hips against the apex of your thighs. 

He broke away from your lips, his forehead pressed flush to your own. Your cheeks were tinged pink, eyes dazed as your lip quivered from the greedy breaths you sucked in. His voice was deeper, huskier and tainted with lust.

“I want you.” 

Your own voice was shaky as you replied.

“Then you may have me.”

Your sheer stockings and well pressed skirts were hardly more than heaps of fabric on his floor, pearl buttons of your blouse scattered if not clinging to mere threads. A blind stumble through the house had left a trail of what was easiest to remove. Had it not been for his insistence to do right by you and take you in his bed he was assured he would have bent you over the nearest surface and had his way with you. 

He swore deeply to any archon that would listen that he would be the most devout follower should they let him remember your disheveled look in the clearest of details, from the smear of your lipstick and the swollen lips he had indulged himself in to the sweeping curves of your body that he had marred with his teeth which now burned the angry red of ruptured capillaries. His kisses were smothering as his hands explored every inch of newly exposed skin, leaving a trail of chills from his cold fingers. He was a gentleman even in the most dirty of moments, all ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ as he waited for you confirmation as if he was still hesitant to think it anymore than a vivid dream to unclip your bra and lathe his tongue over the delicate flesh beneath, to drag his fingers over the soaked fabric of your panties and press his thumb harshly against that little bud of flesh that made your hips jerk in his grasp.

He was sure the sinful noise that parted your lips the moment he pressed your panties aside and flattened his tongue against your weeping cunt had been permanently seared into his brain right alongside the taste of you. The clamp of your pretty thighs against the side of his head only encouraged his efforts, calloused hands easily prying you open as he tongue teased past your lips and his nose pressed against your clit. Your shaky cries that it was too much fell on deaf ears, your fingers fisting into his hair to pull him off a stark contrast to the way your pretty hips grinded against his face begging for more. 

He wasn’t so heartless to stop when he knew what was best for you. It wasn’t like you knew, and the flush on your cheeks as you had so softly admitted to him your intact virginity had him questioning if you had ever pleasured yourself at all. It was his duty now to show you what needed, to strip you of every ounce of purity, to fuck you so good you would never consider another man to be capable. 

You could taste yourself on his lips, a bitter combination lost quickly on your mind as he dragged your panties down and pressed his calloused fingers into your cunt. His fingers felt thick and rough as he gave a few experimental pumps into your wet heat before burying them to the knuckle and curling them into your walls, relishing the heady cry that escaped your body as your hips canted into his palm.

“Fuck, baby, so fucking tight.” He groaned into your lips, his fingers scissoring you open as he set a brutal pace to loosen you up, the rough pad of his thumb circling and teasing your clit as the wet sound of your cunt met his ears. 

“Wrio, please I-,” You choked out, arms wrapping around his neck as the wave of molten lust that clogged your veins and made your stomach twist so delightfully became unbearable. 

“I’ve got you baby.” 

His words, low and reassuring in your ear, were the last straw as he fingerfucked you into an orgasm. Your whole body buzzed as you cried out sharply, your face buried into his neck as you came on his fingers, thighs clamped desperately around his hand as your entire body quivered. 

Your dearest lover Wriothesley felt safe and warm as he settled over your boneless body, gentle kisses pressing away the tears that had streaked down your cheeks from a pleasure never before indulged in. Any notion of vulnerability or embarrassment had been stripped away, replaced by the simple thought that his fingers seemed to intertwine so perfectly with your own just as his body seemed to slot so perfectly between your legs, as if he were some piece of a puzzle you hadn’t realized you were missing.

It was that sense of utter completion that overwhelmed you as his cockhead teased your entrance, the sense of the intrusion so much you forgot to breathe as your body trembled. You could feel every engorged vein, every ridge that bullied deeper into your cunt with the slow roll of his hips, how heavily he was pressed inside you. 

He hissed at the feeling, how tightly you still wrapped around him. His grip on your hips was bruising, a vain attempt to ground himself in the moment of the realization of his most hedonistic desires and the simple truth that you were so much fucking better than he could have ever dreamed. 

He fucked you deep and slow, reveling in the little sounds you made only for his ears, the gentle begging of his name in a tone reserved just for him. An exchange of sloppy kisses left your head spinning, his cock nestled deep in your womb, every slow thrust teasing that spongy spot inside that made your walls tighten and your legs quiver.

He was so kind, even as he felt that last of his composure slipping with the breathy whisper pressed to his ear that he could have his way with you. It had to be that look of glowing adoration in your eyes as you stared up at him, body rocking gently with each thrust as he made love to you, but he could be good for you just this once.

Just this once to press a kiss to the inside of your knee as he practically folded you in half. Just this once, to intertwine your fingers as he bottomed out in you with one smooth motion. Just this once to fuck you like he really meant it, to watch your eyes gloss over and tears pool at your lashline. Just this once, yet a thousand times over, another lie he would tell himself as if he wouldn’t pound you into his mattress until you couldn’t walk if you asked for it. 

Your fingernails scraped harshly against his skin, your own little desperate cling to reality. You didn’t think it was possible for him to feel any deeper, finding it hard to breathe at the new angle as you were certain he was well into your guts by now. Your mind was utterly blank, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he fucked you with a new fervor as if to shape your insides to only remember the feeling of him. That heated, gut twisting sensation had rebuilt and teetered dangerously on the brink of collapse just as quickly.

He could tell you were close, your words slurring into an incoherent babble of his name. He could practically feel you tighten around him, willing him to finish you off as he leaned forward. 

“That’s my girl, cum for me.”

He kissed you, muffling the sharp whine you released as that familiar heat snapped violently in your gut. The harsh pull of your pussy was too much for him to resist, his hips stuttering as his teeth sank into your lower lip. It was a hot, sticky and overwhelming feeling that rested deep in your womb as he slowly fucked his seed into you, the taste of iron seeping into your mouth. 

He looked apologetic as his thumb swiped away the bead of blood forming on the vermillion of your freshly busted lip, but you had no heart to be angry when you met his glowing and tired eyes. There was a tremble to his arms as he effectively collapsed on top of you, trapping you under his weight. Your heartbeat was steady in his ear, your fingers tangling in his mussed hair. You could practically feel his entire body relax under your touch, hear his breathing slow.

“You don’t intend to sleep like this, do you?” You cringed at how hoarse you sounded. 

“I’m never opposed to this if it’s with you.” He countered, catching your wrist and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. “But I should clean you up.” 

It was a hollowing feeling, the loss of his dick that had been seated so firmly within your walls that you subconsciously clenched around nothing. You watched in silent surprise as a trail of fluids weeped from your used cunt and spilled onto the bed, a sense of abject horror striking as you caught the burning gaze of your lover locked onto the sight as well. You clamped your legs shut, shrieking as he easily pried you apart once more, his fingers scooping the viscous liquid back up and pressing it back into your pussy as you hissed at the sensation.

All at once he grabbed your ankles, dragging your hips to the edge of the bed. You propped onto your elbows, staring down his re-hardened cock that lay hot, heavy, and twitching against your hips before flickering up to his flushed cheeks.

 “I'm sorry, baby, let me indulge in you just a bit longer.” 

Rey, 2023

[sturnioloshacker]

a secret sturniolo flirtation - a chris sturniolo short

a/n: requested by @iheartchrissturniolo; lowercase intended 

cw: implied smut but not in full detail

summary: the exchange student has a flirty encounter with a certain flirty triplet 

stepping onto boston soil, y/n approaches the exit gate to begin her life-changing 6-month exchange year from australia. little did she know that fate had its share of surprises awaiting her. the first surprise was finding out that her host family is none other than the sturniolo family - marylou, jimmy, their eldest son justin and the triplets nick, matt and chris - who all welcomed her with open arms. 

with the christmas holiday season fast approaching, the sturniolo household buzzed with festive energy from top to bottom. the house was fully decorated with tinsel, twinkling lights that shone bright like a rainbow, stockings over the fireplace and a huge christmas tree in the corner of the living room. almost every night was spent as a family sitting nice and close to each other on the couches as they watched a christmas movie and sipped on hot cups of cocoa. the pure warmth and love of them bonding with each other enveloped y/n, as she created many more new memories that she’ll cherish forever. 

however, amidst the chaos that came with the christmas holidays, a subtle yet romantic connection blossomed between y/n and the youngest triplet, chris. their eyes would always manage to meet from across the room and they would exchange secret smiles and glances all day, every day. playful yet flirty banter became their language, making sure that they’re hidden from the watchful eyes of his two older brothers. each stolen glance, each cheesy grin and each secret cuddle and kiss on the cheek at night fuelled the spark between them.

on a particular snowy night, while the family gathered for another christmas movie, y/n and her newfound lover chris found themselves walking along the quiet streets of boston, taking in the beautiful white scenery all around them. snowflakes fell from the sky as they walked hand in hand, their cheeks rosy from the cold but also from the warmth they’re emitting by being so close to one another. as the days unfolded, the flirty moments between the pair become more apparent, causing some subtle teasing from nick and matt. yet, beneath all the banter and teasing, there was an unspoken connection. something beautiful was brewing between the two, neither of them had any idea what was coming for them. 

as the clock struck midnight on new year’s eve, fireworks were not only set off in the night sky but also in the bellies of y/n and chris, who shared such a sweet and intimate moment amongst family and friends. through the kiss, their feelings for one another had been confessed and the night turned into an even bigger celebration. everyone may had gone to bed at 2am, but the two lovebirds were only just getting started. soft, sweet gentle kisses turned into ravishing heated makeout sessions, delicate hands in each other’s hair turned into rough caresses all over their bodies and cute giggles turned into seductive moans and whimpers. all in all, it was one of the best new year’s eve parties both have ever had. 

after 6 months, it was time for y/n to leave. tears were shed, hugs were exchanged and a loving kiss was shared between the now long-distance lovers. they may be long-distance, but that didn’t stop the pair from flying between the us and australia during the holidays. it also didn’t stop them from falling deeper in love and harder in love. In the end, a final decision was made between the pair. after a couple of months of booking flights and finding a suitable job, y/n finally moved in with the sturniolo triplets at their home in los angeles. what was supposed to be 6-months has now turned into forever, and that’s just perfect for y/n m/n l/n and christopher owen sturniolo.