#whichever form comes first
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I write nexus bits for fun. I realize I usually go to write in El's perspective. Hana is a main character, and I have stuff written in her pov. But thinking about rewriting them in El's to get a feel for her voice. Hana from an outside view. Esp without her premonitions. After OoS.
El's pov tends to be in first person? Idk seems her. So I feel like when I write El I really have to get in character.
But then again El from Hana's pov would be equally interesting. She believes El is like her and over reliant on her powers to learn about people. Maybe she is. But in the end, El becomes close to the guild and can encourage Hana to do the same.
#pov: ur Hana and go to a new town and have to share a room with a girl whose philosophy is ur opposite#ragna ramblings#brainrot#nexus tag#I have to write#or create idk#whichever form comes first
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Crazy Form: My Ego's In This Show
First PAC of the year!! When in real I've been working on it since last year lmAO.
My main personality is peaking through this blog again cuz Ateez is back with another banger and as an Atiny, itâs my calling to do this. This reading is gonna be slightly different imo, tho I have no idea how to phrase myself on how different it is.
Most of us, if not all, have a certain side to us that can be considered crazy. The definition of crazy differs according to people and context, where some can be out of control, unbelievable, mad, or just enthusiastic. One personâs craziness is just another personâs normal, so just treat it as⊠How you want it to be.Â
To me, this song yells about being yourself, not confining yourself to the social structure and expectations of the world. They might think weâre crazy but thereâs nothing wrong with being yourself as long as youâre not harming anyone. Just close your eyes and not look if things are not to your liking, and steer away from me. Leave me alone, I donât mind.
As usual, you can meditate before you pick a pile. However, for this reading, Iâd say go for the one you first focused on, as craziness can be spontaneous. Found your pile? Letâs go see what our Crazy Form has for us!
Pile 1 - Pile 2
Pile 3 - Pile 4
Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever you feel like it. If it doesnât resonate, itâs okay to just drop it. Also, I do not consent to my work or images being used by third parties on this platform or other websites as well.
Decks used: Luna Cat Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck, self made lyrics deck.
Pile 1
A card to represent you: Death
For some reason I see you as someone who prolly is into the punk genre? Something metal? Youâre constantly transforming yourself, trying new things, finding your way throughout the world probably through means that are not well received by others. Weirdly the word osmosis came to mind? You tend to throw yourself into the exact situation to learn and understand why people react a certain way. It sounds cool, but to people around you, they think youâre out of your mind cuz it could mean that you may go to the extremes to get the experience you want. But to you, you prolly feel proud of it cuz you are constantly growing at an astounding speed.
1. What do people think is crazy about you? - Three of Wands rx
You tend to not credit yourself? Itâs giving me the feeling that you tend to look at things from the sidelines, may it be your success or achievements. You donât mind the credits, but to others theyâll get mad cuz you were not credited accordingly. They tend to not understand why youâd let your work get taken away or used (I think the same too). This appears to be a mystery to people around you, but you know what you want, so youâre chill with it. Itâs giving me the feeling where you do things to gain experience and to build yourself, not to gain recognition. May be wrong here, but you know yourself best. OvO
2. What craziness is in you that has not been unleashed? - Seven of Pentacles
You already chose to not take credits over your own work, and it will drive people crazy that whatever youâre doing is not the peak. Youâre currently doing things at your own pace, to figure things out as you go. One day, when you decide to unlock a passion and work on it diligently, yet continuing to not take any credits for yourself, the people around you will flip. You know about this, but youâve surrounded yourself with people who support your vision and share your values, they who believe that youâll be able to create your own legacy sky. For some of you, you may also feel that itâs weird if you choose to take credit. Maybe itâs because thereâs more than what is seen by the eyes in the material realm. For some reason Iâm thinking of Saturn energy here, so some of you may be Saturn dominant.
3. How can you use your Crazy Form to your advantage? - Justice rx
What Iâm feeling from here is that you can use this to get out of situations, especially unfair situations. It can sound pretty mean but if things take a bad turn, you, being in no leadership role, can get out of it. This is also one of the reasons you dislike assuming the leadership position. To some, you may like assuming the leader position, but youâre not given the chance or youâre currently not there yet to take on the role. Youâre also the type who likes to explore stuffs and hence, you have the skills and ability to venture into anything else new that you are interested in. The world is wide and there are a lot of things for you to try, and you probably go crazy with everything you wanna try, ignoring how small your plate can be.
4. What can you achieve from this entire thing? - Queen of Pentacles
For some reason, the word âconnectionâ came out pretty strong. Networking and connection was the first to pop up in my head. Yâknow how people have been told to separate work life and personal life? Thatâs not what youâll do, probably. You make friends and create connections through work, and they slowly become part of your personal life as well. I think this is a charm of yours where you are just capable of creating new bonds because of your comforting presence and of your communication skills. You donât necessarily need to be very protective or nurturing; people just find you comfortable to talk to and the new friendship starts to grow from there. Eventually, they become part of your life even though you may not remain in the same workplace.
Overall energy: Justice, Six of Swords rx
I like how Justice came out twice for you, signifying that itâs a strong theme. Justice could mean being fair, but to me, it also talks about being critical in both mind and action. You possess a mind thatâs sharp, where you can see and evaluate the various situations that youâre in, noticing details that many people donât. Itâs like⊠Youâre being guided through all of these so youâre able to throw yourself into as many passion projects as you like. However, remember to keep things in moderation else youâll feel the burn-out or youâll get overwhelmed with everything going on. Take care.
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Pile 2
A card to represent you: The Hanged Man rx
This card in reverse usually talks about delays, resistance, and even self sacrificing too much. Have you been doing so? Have you been creating a lot of inner tension within yourself, where you try to maintain the exterior peace of the environment and ignore the need of your own inner peace? Remember that external peace isnât your peace, and that you need to take care of your own needs as well, as youâre in charge of whatever thatâs in your life. There are a lot of other ways to maintain a balance out there, you just need to review your priorities and how youâd want to execute it.
1. What do people think is crazy about you? -Â Three of Cups
Socialisation is the first word that came into my mind. Thereâs a high chance that youâre an extrovert, where you gain energy by being around people. Not exactly a party animal kinda feeling, but more of a⊠Vibe assimilation? Itâs like, you throw yourself into a place with a good vibe and you kinda absorb the good vibe and make yourself feel better with it. Once youâre feeling better, you feel that youâre more prepared to face whatever problems you were facing. Itâs also the other way round, where you give out good vibes and fun times to those around you who are having a hard time. But also, you need to be aware if this is their preferred love language or you may not be helping them the way they need it.
2. What craziness is in you that has not been unleashed? - Page of Cups rx
Are you a romantic? Cuz this card here is giving me this vibe. It feels like⊠Youâre a romantic in heart, where your heart is open to love as it manifests into the world. Take this as a reminder to not go wild. You can fall in love deep and quick, and can jump to new relationships easily. To you, you just view love as love, and you think itâs alright to get into or break off relationships cuz youâre loyal to love. However, a relationship doesnât work only on love, but also responsibilities, loyalty, and a lot of other aspects. Ground yourself, find out what is it that you want by getting into relationships. From there, only you figure out how you can work things out without potentially harming other people in the relationship.
3. How can you use your Crazy Form to your advantage? - Wheel of Fortune rx
I feel that with your Crazy Form, you are very capable of changing the courses of lives. Plural. Itâs not only your life that youâre changing, where you learn through the relationships and experiences youâve gone through; but also the lives of others who have been in relationships with you, where they may learn a thing or two, or even have problems with the idea of âloveâ. You know that youâre the co-creator of your life and destiny, but also, you need to be aware of the impact you have, how you can also change the lives of others for the better. You now know you have the power, how youâre gonna use it is now up to you.
4. What can you achieve from this entire thing? - The Devil, Page of Swords
You can be the Devil, where you can draw out the worst possible potential in someone; or you can also be the Messenger, where you share your knowledge and wisdom to those who are interested in them. Thereâs a lot you can achieve, but ultimately, it depends on which path you want to tread on. You, Pile 2, you know youâre fire, you know you can warm people or burn them. I donât want to repeat things but yeah. You can make a name for yourself, may it be in a nice light or a not-nice light. Whatever you choose, make sure you think through the consequences of your actions, and if youâre alright or satisfied with the outcome.Â
Overall energy: Temperance rx, Four of Wands
Overall speaking, thereâs a lack of balance in this pile. It feels like the energy is scattered, and that now youâre taking your time to piece the puzzles (scattered energy, self-expectations, better understanding of yourself) into a nice and harmonious picture (you). You are searching for a community where you are comfortable with, you can work together with. I donât think this pile has much difficulties in self-acceptance, but if you do, do work on them as it could be your greatest challenge. Once youâre through that? Youâll be surprised by how much power you have.
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Pile 3
A card to represent you: The Hierophant
I⊠Am conflicted with how I should word myself. The Hierophant is usually related with traditional and conventional methods. Thereâs a hint of tradition here, but what Iâm feeling is more of a⊠Fusion? Itâs like youâre working with whatever and whichever part of the tradition you agree with, and mixing it with something else to have a new blend. This is you. You are good at combining the best of both worlds to bring forth something new that is comforting to you and the people around you. You may also have been told that you have a healing presence? Or youâre working on your inner healing right now, especially childhood trauma.Â
1. What do people think is crazy about you? - Ten of Wands rx
The way you willingly and fearlessly take up responsibilities is what people (including myself) think is crazy about you. Most people will consider and ponder, weighing the pros and cons before deciding if they wanna take up the responsibility to take up something or anything. But for you, itâs like you have some sort of blind faith that youâll be able to do things and hence, you take up the responsibility. You also have almost no fear in showing or exposing your vulnerability. You understand that being vulnerable doesnât necessarily mean weak, and you honour that part of you, showing it and proving that being vulnerable doesnât mean you canât achieve things.
2. What craziness is in you that has not been unleashed? - Four of Pentacles rx
Youâre actually⊠restraining yourself a lot. Unknown to the people around you (or even yourself), you have always felt the need to exert control over particular things, or even other people, but especially yourself. The controlling side of yours is due to the insecurities that youâve experienced, probably as a kid, where you need to have a certain control over situations so that you can be assured of your self value. You probably have gone through child trauma and do not hold trust in the world, nor in people around you, which led to you wanting to be in charge of things so you can exert dominance to make sure youâre not on the passive or losing end.
3. How can you use your Crazy Form to your advantage? - The Magician rx, Five of Cups rx
You can use that controlling energy and redirect them to some other things, such as creativity expressions (creating new things to have fun) or even focusing on healing past traumas. All of these require a lot of energy and time, which is something really suitable for you to work on as you expand not only your views on things, but also to learn acceptance and to be kinder to yourself. Expansion is a huge theme where you need to find things out and figure them out as you journey in life. Thereâs a lot of time for you to figure things out, so itâs best to not rush and learn to take things at your own pace.
4. What can you achieve from this entire thing? - Eight of Pentacles
Success is guaranteed if you put your energy in the right things. Youâll be able to become the pinnacle in whatever fields you have decided to step into. The tenacity you have, the diligence and hard work youâve put into curating your portfolio and honing your skills will be well repaid in the forms of success, achievements, recognition and even power. However, thereâs a need to maintain balance in all things, and to continue striving and improving. Know that youâll need to constantly learn how to change your controlling energy to something thatâs more⊠beneficial? Something that can help you (and/or the people you care for) in the long run.Â
Extra cards: Five of Pentacles
An extra message for you right now is that you still will need to go through some things before you reach there. Youâre still in the process of learning, and youâll face your own trials soon enough. You need to be aware of your own mindset, your own actions; only then youâll be able to make the necessary changes for you to be able to unlock your highest potential. Your guides are also actively sending you messages. Trust in your guts, your feelings, your guides; theyâre your strongest compass and confidant.
Overall energy: Death, The Star
This pile focuses a lot on the importance of change, and how itâs capable of making your life better or worse. However, it also reassures that thereâs a silver lining within every dark cloud. There may be a sense of defeat for some who chose this pile, but it is also a sign of telling, where youâre called to surrender the old and limiting beliefs before you can be reborn into limitless possibilities. The process of being reborn is not easy, and you will need help around you to go through those times. Not saying that you canât handle everything alone, but getting help and assistance from people around you, especially those who are close to you can help you and make your life so much easier. So why go through the long-winded route?
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Pile 4
A card to represent you: The Emperor
Iâm getting a⊠Growl? People probably paint you as dominant or domineering at times (or most of the time). You may have a stronger masculine energy, even if you identify as some other genders. Thereâs this fire energy that feels like Scorpio as well, where people (including your subordinates and to some extent, friends) may feel afraid. Some of you are aware of this and are pleased with this, but some of you are unaware of this trait of yours. You can choose to either work on it and be a benevolent king, or you can be a tyrant. The choice is yours, you are who you want to become.
1. What do people think is crazy about you? - Temperance, Two of Pentacles
Youâre able to remain your balance amidst the changes that are happening around you. Thereâs just this⊠Stability in you that assures the people around you. Pluto is in Capricorn and itâs about to enter Aquarius for good. We have seen how things changed around us, and how there were more⊠THings that have been constantly happening. Yet, even with the never-ending chaos, you still manage to keep your emotions and rationality at a healthy level. You know that you rely not only on yourself, but also your dreams and your spiritâs energy to reach your highest good. But still, you achieving this is just insane in many peopleâs eyes.
2. What craziness is in you that has not been unleashed? - King of Swords rx
People are seeing the balanced side of you at the moment, but they probably have not thought of you being a person who focuses more on the mind than the emotional side. You probably have the habit of noticing the slightest things, and youâre very capable of putting the small pieces together to form the bigger picture. If anyone ever wrongs you, this side of yours will appear and will probably mess up their life cuz they messed yours. You do put in effort in keeping this side of yours aside as youâre very much intending on keeping things civil.
3. How can you use your Crazy Form to your advantage? - The Chariot
If you ever wanted to take over the corporate business, youâre very capable of doing so. Take the wheel, steer to where you want to head to, and hit the gas. You will not be lost as long as you are sure of where youâre going. Also, because of this introspective side of yours, you can help a lot of those who are in need. Iâm somehow seeing you piecing up information to gather evidence against domestic violence cases. You are willing to help, as long as they ask. The same goes to you, where youâll also receive help from the universe when you ask for them. You just seem to be in sync with divine timing, which is something you can pay attention to.
4. What can you achieve from this entire thing? - The High Priestess rx
I am very tempted to say that youâll end up losing your feminine and intuitive side, but thereâs more to it. Sure, there may be chances of you straying away from the quieter side of you, but it is also a chance for divine intervention where your guides are re-introducing you the importance of your feminine side, showing you how being in-tune with your emotions can bring you to places youâve never thought of, to bring your the emotional fulfilment that youâve never imagined. More importantly, itâs an opportunity for you to learn the importance of stability and sustainability, and make sure that whatever you do and learn is gonna be part of your life, part of your identity.
Overall energy: The Hanged Man rx, The Tower rx
Thereâs quite some blockage here that youâre facing, where you may feel challenged with everything thatâs happening around you. Remember that youâre not in control of everything around you, that things happen for a reason, and that itâs okay to go along the flow from time to time. The Universe is trying to guide you to where youâre supposed to be, so stop being stubborn and learn to accept things for the time being. At least, until youâre strong enough to go against what youâve decided to fight. Youâre meant to do great things, to achieve so much more in life. But first, you need to learn to accept your flaws and the harsh reality, only then you can be sure of what you want to rebel against.
#tuliptic#đ·#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#tarot reading#general tarot reading#crazy form#yes it's another ateez reading cuz i'm an atiny#prolly another ateez one coming up#idk#depending on my mood#i've been working on this since last year and am finally having the energy to complete this#anyways that's it#it's a very different reading to the point idek what to label/categorise this as#have fun#i hope you guys had fun cuz#i definitely did#see ya in another reading#or game#whichever comes first
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Hey Odd! Just happened to be looking at your commission prices and a. I think it's funny that Amaryllis is your one humanoid example for the fully rendered pieces and b. was wondering when you thought you might open up again, I might have a little thing for you to draw :3
HEHE, oh man that's right! (I do need to desperately update my commission examples, some of them are kinda old lol)
BUT, while I haven't shared the post again in a little bit, I'm still open for the commission types I've last opened up for! So the form is still open in case anyone has interest in a commission!
#reply#vulpemarshmallow#i've since reached the 10 slots mark#but as i've been getting thru these commissions fairly quickly#or at least quicker than I filled the available slots at the time#i'll keep the form open for new comms until I get a good long queue going!#or until I need a break kjfdshfj#whichever comes first!
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What the fuck it cut off my tags, whatever
I do deserve a treat :( Thank you <3
sorry for ranting, also sorry half the rant was cut off
this is the single worst way i've ever read to describe an erection, frank herbert
#Well see he wrote dune and some young men are super into his work because of it but then they do something stupid like make me read#soul catcher and then complain when I didn't like it right before bitching I couldn't get through helstrom's hive#and like I never want to disparage something that someone I love is super into but oh my god are they dismissive of anything I like or very#superficially lip service encouraging with no actual engagement and then get super pissy that I don't think frank herbert is a genius#But they'll act like I can't have that opinion until I have read whichever books of his that they personally think are good examples#but like no... He's a bad author#sorry#you ever read someone's work and get the sense you would fundamentally disagree as people?#like you would just find them viscerally off putting and they'd have an automatically low opinion of you for no good reason?#and also get the nagging sense that they'd be bad at sex or in a relationship?#Anyway Frank Herbert DNI#Like read the books -I- like before forming your opinions ffs play myst games and then tell me what you actually think of them#stop demanding that I live up to your expectations or wants or engage with you in a one sided way I break up with people for doing that#also when I tell a partner about something I am writing or working on and their first words to me is "oh you should check out _______'s wor#as if to say this person is already doing that and probably doing it better instead of engaging with me over my _own_ ideas as a way to#shut the conversation down and stop having it#makes me want to scream#like if they were just making recommendations based on what I like I wouldn't take it that way#but they do this thing where the more I keep trying to engage over what I am working on the more they just keep repeating#âYou should REALLY check out _________â [it's often something by Neil Gaiman or something similar in tone] as a way to shut down#having to continue the interaction that's when it reads like they are telling me to see what the greats have done with the idea#before I bother trying to do something that seems similar to them or try to bother them with it#I feel like that's a pet peeve about young nerdy menTM that only comes up when you are an afab writer#the inherent assumption and attitude that your every idea and project is derivative and not worth engaging with earnestly#and worse they seem to learn from each other that this is HOW you SHOULD respond to your partner sharing their writing ideas with you#to start listing off the talents that have already done something that seems similar... *screaming* I'm sure trans women get it to actually#just anyone socially interpreted as a woman who creates in nerd spaces#well I'm a man now and I don't date so whatever#but a guy doing this to me became a massive red flag because the underlying attitude was always a base level of contempt for me#and inability to see me as a fully intelligent and rational peer
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Making Up After an Argument with: Overblot Gang + Rollo
part 2 with vice housewardens + kalim
on this day, i offer you some hurt/comfort
Itâs been two days. Two long, awkward, and uncomfortable days of silent treatment between you and him. The argument had been pettyâsomething so small that you canât even remember what sparked it. But pride, stubbornness, and a little bit of frustration had taken over, and now, here you are, locked in a stalemate.
Youâve been tiptoeing around each other, avoiding eye contact, pretending not to care. But in reality, the silence feels like itâs stretching forever, and you hate it. You hate the feeling of distance between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.
You miss him. Even with him just a walk away, it feels like miles.
The realization hits you hard as you sit there, staring at your phone, hoping for a signâany signâthat heâs willing to break first. But of course, nothing comes. Heâs just as stubborn as you are. Maybe even more.
You let out a long, dramatic sigh, slumping back in your seat. Ugh, fine. Iâll be the one to give in this time. Itâs not the first time youâve done it, but it doesnât make it any easier. But deep down, you know you love him too much to let this go on. And you know he loves you too, even if neither of you will say it right now.
Riddle Rosehearts
You sigh dramatically, dragging your feet as you head towards Riddleâs dorm. The argument was dumbâyou know that now. And if anyone could hold onto stubbornness like a grudge, it was Riddle Rosehearts. You, on the other hand, are way too tired of the silence, so itâs time for drastic measures.
As you approach his door, you pause, a silly idea forming in your mind. Whatâs the best way to apologize to someone like Riddle? With a flourish, of course. You rummage through your bag, pull out a red rose you happened to pick up earlierâtotally coincidental, you promise yourselfâand start plotting.
A few minutes later, you knock on his door, taking a deep breath. You hear footsteps, and then the door creaks open, revealing Riddleâs ever-serious face. His eyes flick up to you, then down to the rose in your hand, then back up again. He doesnât say anything, though the faintest hint of curiosity flashes in his eyes.
Time to execute the plan.
You drop to one knee in an exaggerated, overly dramatic fashion, holding the rose high above your head like youâre a knight pledging allegiance to his queen. âMy dearest Riddle, Queen of the Rose Garden, I come bearing an apology for my grievous offense. Iâve come to beg for your forgiveness,â you say, loud enough for the whole dorm to hear.
Riddle's eyes go wide, and for a moment, his face goes completely redânot from anger, but from pure, unfiltered embarrassment. He glances around, hoping no one else is witnessing this absolute spectacle youâre making.
"Please," you continue, voice wobbling as if you're on the verge of tears, "Grant me one more chance to bask in your presence! Your mercy, oh merciful ruler!" You bow dramatically, forehead almost touching the ground.
He sputters, clearly flustered beyond belief. "W-What are you doing? Get up! That's completely unnecessaryâ!"
"No!" You hold up the rose like a peace offering. "Not until you talk to me again! I will stay here on my knees if I must! Forever! Or until I get a cramp, whichever comes first!"
Heâs torn between laughing at the ridiculousness of it and dying from second-hand embarrassment. âThis is ridiculous! Iââ He looks at the rose, then at you, eyes softening just a bit. âFine, fine, just⊠stand up already.â
You spring to your feet, grinning triumphantly. âSo, weâre good?â
Riddle sighs, rubbing his temples. "You're impossible."
âDoes that mean yes?â you ask, batting your eyelashes at him playfully.
âYes. But stop being so dramatic. The whole dorm probably heard youâŠâ
You donât care. You throw your arms around him in a spontaneous hug, and for a second, Riddle freezes, stunned by the unexpected affection. Then, hesitantly, he returns the hug. Heâs still embarrassed, but thereâs a softness to his grip, a sign that he missed this closeness just as much as you did.
He pulls you into his room, and as soon as the door clicks shut, the embarrassment on his face fades, replaced with a quiet vulnerability. He avoids your eyes, walking over to his desk, his voice quieter now. âI⊠I was afraid,â he admits. âThat maybe you were getting tired of me. I know Iâm difficult sometimes, andââ
âWhoa, whoa,â you interrupt, stepping closer. âWhere is this coming from?â
He sits down, staring at the floor. âYou could be with someone more⊠easygoing. Less rigid. Someone who doesnât argue over every little thing.â
You blink, surprised. âRiddle, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating you. I chose you, remember?â
He looks up at you, eyes filled with uncertainty, and you notice his hands trembling just slightly. âBut what if I drive you away? What if one day you just⊠stop trying?â
Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice. Before you can think, you step forward, kneeling in front of him. Without hesitation, you cup his face in your hands, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek. âThatâs not going to happen. Ever.â
His eyes glisten slightly, the tension of the past few days unraveling as he leans into your touch. âButââ
âNo buts,â you insist softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. âI love you. Stubbornness, rules, and all. And honestly, I think the petty arguments are kinda fun. It keeps things⊠interesting.â
He lets out a shaky breath, and you feel a few tears slip down his cheeks. âYou donât know how hard it is for me,â he whispers. âTo balance everything, to try and be perfect all the time⊠I donât want to lose you because of my shortcomings.â
You smile gently, brushing away the tears with your thumb as you lean in and kiss his cheek softly. âYouâre not going to lose me. You donât have to be perfect, Riddle. I didnât fall in love with perfection, I fell in love with you.â
He stares at you for a moment, tears still threatening to spill over, but his grip on your hand tightens as if heâs holding on to your words. âI⊠I donât deserve you.â
âYou deserve the world,â you whisper, pulling him into a tight hug, cradling his head against your shoulder as he allows himself to cry softly into your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, gently whispering reassurances as he finally lets go of the weight heâs been carrying.
âI missed you,â he mumbles between sniffles, his voice fragile in a way youâve rarely heard before.
âI missed you too,â you say, kissing the top of his head. âLetâs never do this silent treatment thing again, okay?â
He nods, still clinging to you, and you feel his lips press a soft kiss against your shoulder, a wordless promise.
Leona Kingscholar
Itâs been two long days of silence. And if you know one thing about Leona Kingscholar, itâs that his stubbornness rivals your own. Youâve been circling around each other, neither one of you willing to be the first to admit defeat. But the silence is eating away at you, and, well⊠you miss him.
So, you hatch a plan. A very dramatic, ridiculous, and completely unnecessary plan.
Armed with a large bouquet of sunflowersâbecause roses are too obviousâyou march into Savanaclaw with all the confidence of someone who is absolutely not going to be embarrassed by this. Nope. You pass by several confused students on your way to Leonaâs room, each one giving you strange looks as you carry the huge bouquet.
You stop in front of his door, take a deep breath, and knock. No answer. You knock again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
Sighing, you decide to just barge inâbecause whatâs a grand gesture without a bit of dramatic flair? Pushing open the door, you find Leona lounging on his bed, arms behind his head, eyes closed.
Perfect.
You march up to him and stand by his bed, holding the bouquet in front of you like a shield. âLeona Kingscholar, hear me out!â you declare, in a tone thatâs probably more suited for a court jester than someone in an actual relationship.
One of his ears twitches, and his eyes crack open, glancing at you. You stand tall and proud, despite how ridiculous you feel, presenting the sunflowers like theyâre some rare treasure. âI come bearing these humble sunflowers as an offering to ask for your forgiveness, O Great King of Beasts.â
He snorts. Actually snorts. âWhat are you on about, herbivore?â
You drop to one knee dramatically, holding the flowers up to him as if youâre a knight swearing fealty to his king. âPlease, Leona! Forgive my transgressions! I was wrong to argue with you, and I cannot bear another moment without your esteemed company!â
Leona raises an eyebrow, staring at you with what can only be described as amusement. âYouâre really going all out, huh?â
âI am but a humble servant, groveling for your mercy!â you continue, refusing to break character. âPlease, take these sunflowers as a token of my undying affection and devotion!â
By now, Leona is fully awake, sitting up and resting his chin in his hand, clearly trying to hold back laughter. âSunflowers, huh? How thoughtful of you.â
âOf course!â You stand up dramatically, thrusting the bouquet toward him. âThey represent my radiant affection for you!â
Leona finally lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. âYouâre ridiculous.â
âBut do you forgive me?â you ask, batting your eyelashes at him.
He rolls his eyes, but the grin on his face betrays his amusement. âYeah, yeah, youâre forgiven. Just stop with the theatrics, would ya?â
You grin, knowing youâve won him over. But thereâs something still lingering in the air, some tension that hasnât quite disappeared yet. Leona might be laughing, but you can tell heâs still a bit on edge, still a little distant.
Setting the sunflowers aside, you walk over to the bed and sit next to him. âLeona, I know it was a dumb fight, but⊠you know youâre the only one for me, right?â
He glances at you, his smile fading slightly as he considers your words. âYeah?â
âYeah,â you say softly, scooting closer. âI mean it. Iâm not going anywhere.â
For a moment, heâs quiet, and you can see the tension in his shoulders start to ease. Then, without a word, he shifts, pulling you down onto the bed with him, his body practically draping over yours like a big, heavy, warm blanket. His arms wrap around you, his tail curling possessively around your leg, anchoring you to him.
He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, letting out a low, contented sigh. âYou better not,â he mumbles against your skin. âI donât feel like dealing with anyone elseâs nonsense.â
You smile softly, running your fingers through his hair, scratching gently behind his ears. âWouldnât dream of it.â
Leona presses closer, his body relaxing fully against yours as if heâs been waiting for this. His weight is comforting, and you can feel the way he melts into your embrace, his tail tightening just slightly around you as if to say, mine.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him as close as you can, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against yours. âYou okay now?â you ask quietly.
âYeah,â he mutters, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. âJust donât pull that silent treatment crap again. Hate it.â
You chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. âDeal.â
He grumbles something under his breath, but the way he snuggles even closer to you tells you that all is forgiven. You hold him tight, and in that moment, with him lying on top of you like a big, lazy cat, everything feels right again.
Azul Ashengrotto
Itâs been two long, dreadful days of silence between you and Azul. And for someone like himâsomeone who thrives on words, on negotiation, on controlâitâs been absolutely agonizing. But his pride wonât let him be the first to crack. Heâs stubborn like that.
And you? Well, youâre not much better.
But enough is enough. The tension between you both is suffocating, and while youâre both great at the silent treatment, itâs clear this little game of emotional chicken has to end. Youâve had enough of this cold war, and after mulling over how to make amends, you come up with the most absurd, ridiculous plan that just might work.
You stand outside the Mostro Lounge, a grin on your face, feeling more than a little proud of yourself. In your arms is the biggest, gaudiest, most unnecessary floral arrangement imaginableâan explosion of blues and purples that makes it look like youâve picked half of the Coral Sea to present to Azul. There are seashells, ribbons, and even a tiny fake octopus plush dangling from the bouquet, like the cherry on top of your ridiculous masterpiece.
You march into the Lounge, catching the attention of several customers, who stop to stare as you make your way toward Azulâs office. Ignoring their looks, you throw the door open dramatically, the bouquet nearly tipping you over with its weight.
âAzul Ashengrotto!â you declare, bursting into his office. Heâs sitting at his desk, and the second he sees you and the monstrosity of flowers in your arms, his eyes go wide. âI have come to beg for your forgiveness!â
He blinks, clearly caught off guard by the sheer audacity of the display. âW-WhatâŠ?â
You march up to him, practically dropping the bouquet on his desk with a flourish. âThese flowers represent my sincere regret for my terrible behavior during our argument. As you can see, they are over-the-top and completely unnecessary, much like my stubbornness.â
Azul stares at the bouquet, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. âY-YouâŠâ He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself, but thereâs a telltale twitch at the corner of his lips that suggests heâs seconds away from laughing. âThis is absurd.â
âI know,â you reply with a dramatic sigh, throwing a hand to your forehead like a tragic figure. âI have been plagued with guilt these past two days, Azul. I couldnât bear another moment without your lovely company.â
He finally cracks, letting out a soft chuckle. âYouâre insufferable.â
âOnly for you, darling.â You lean over the desk, waggling your eyebrows, and he sighs, shaking his head. His laughter is light, but thereâs a vulnerability in his eyes that pulls at your heartstrings. He may be smiling, but somethingâs still weighing on him.
With a small smile, Azul stands from his desk and walks around it until heâs standing right in front of you. He reaches for your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles before looking up at you with a much softer expression than before.
âIâll admit⊠I wasnât sure if youâd come,â he murmurs, his voice quieter now. âBut Iââ He pauses, his gaze dropping to the floor, as if debating whether or not to say the next words. âDid you⊠only come back because you thought you had to? Or do you still⊠want me?â
His voice cracks, just a little, but itâs enough to make your heart break. You blink in surprise, your breath catching at the rawness in his question.
âAzulâŠâ you say softly, stepping closer, cupping his face gently in your hands. His eyes dart to yours, filled with a mix of uncertainty and hope, and it almost shatters you. âOf course I want you. Always.â
He swallows hard, and you can see the tears welling up in his eyes, ones heâs desperately trying to hide. But you wonât let him. You pull him close, wrapping your arms around him tightly, holding him as if you could shield him from the insecurities swirling in his mind.
âIâm sorry,â you whisper, pressing your lips to his temple. âI love you. Iâve always loved you since I met you, and I always will. No matter what.â
Azul clings to you, his arms wrapping around your waist, burying his face in your shoulder as his breath hitches. The tears come slowly, quietly, and you feel them soak into your shirt as he holds you like youâre his lifeline.
You kiss the top of his head, brushing your lips against his hair, then down to his tear-streaked cheeks. âIâm here,â you whisper between each kiss, your voice soft and soothing. âIâm right here. Youâre not alone, Azul. You never were.â
He squeezes you tighter, as if afraid to let go, and you can feel the tension slowly leaving his body. You keep kissing away his tears, gentle and patient, letting him take all the time he needs. Eventually, his breathing steadies, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes red-rimmed but filled with so much affection it makes your heart swell.
âYouâre ridiculous,â he murmurs again, though thereâs no bite to his words. He leans in, resting his forehead against yours, his lips brushing yours in the lightest of touches.
âRidiculous, but yoursâ you reply, grinning, and he huffs a quiet laugh.
âYes⊠you are,â he whispers, and this time, when he kisses you, itâs slow and tender, his lips soft but firm against yours, filled with all the love and relief heâs been holding back. You kiss him back with just as much affection, your arms wrapping around him as you both lose yourselves in the moment.
When he finally pulls away, you rest your forehead against his once more, both of you breathing a little heavier but feeling lighter than you have in days.
âNo more arguments, okay?â you murmur, smiling softly.
âNo promises,â he teases, but thereâs a warmth in his voice now, a comfort that reassures you everything will be just fine.
And as you hold him close, with his head resting against your shoulder, you know it too. Everything will be just fine.
Jamil Viper
After two long days of silence, the weight of the unresolved argument with Jamil has become unbearable. Youâre done waiting for him to make the first move, especially knowing how he can beâcautious, calculating, always one step ahead but never one to make the first emotional leap. You miss him, and more importantly, you want to make things right, even if it means doing something absolutely ridiculous.
Which is how you find yourself standing outside his dorm, holding a tray of⊠pancakes. Not just any pancakes, though. These are heart shaped, perfectly arranged to spell out âIâM SORRYâ in big, syrup-drenched letters. Youâre not sure what possessed you to make pancakes an apology tool, but hey, everyone loves pancakes, right?
With a deep breath, you knock on his door. After a moment, Jamil opens it, his expression neutral, but the second he spots the tray, his eyes narrow in confusion.
âWhat... is this?â
You grin sheepishly, lifting the tray up like a peace offering. âAn apology. In pancake form.â
Jamil blinks at the sight, clearly trying to process this ridiculous gesture. âYou⊠made pancakes to say sorry?â
âYes. And theyâre shaped like hearts. See? I even used syrup to write it out so thereâs no confusion.â You point to the pancakes proudly. âYou canât stay mad at me after this, right?â
For a moment, Jamil just stares at the tray, his expression unreadable, before a slow, reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He lets out a quiet huff of laughter, pinching the bridge of his nose. âYouâre unbelievable.â
âMaybe, but Iâm yours.â
He shakes his head, but thereâs no denying the amusement in his eyes. âYou could have just apologized with words, you know.â
âI could have,â you agree, âbut whereâs the fun in that?â You give him your best hopeful grin, offering him a plate. âCome on, at least eat one. Theyâre good! I even made them heart-shaped.â
Jamil sighs, taking the plate from you with a resigned smile. He grabs one of the heart-shaped pancakes and bites into it, giving you a side glance. âI suppose I canât stay mad after this.â
You watch him closely, noticing the faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. You know him well enough to see through his calm facade. Beneath it all, heâs still embarrassedâmostly about the argument, but also because he let his temper get the best of him. You can tell thatâs whatâs really bothering him, even now.
âYou know,â you say softly, stepping closer, âitâs okay that we argued.â
Jamil looks at you, his brows furrowing slightly. âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean, you donât have to feel bad for losing your temper. You donât always have to hold everything in around me. Itâs okay to let it out, to be angry, to argue. Weâre not always going to agree, and thatâs fine.â You place your hand gently on his arm. âIâll always come back and fix things, even if you feel like you canât. Thatâs what we do, right?â
Jamil stares at you for a moment, his expression softening as your words sink in. Thereâs a vulnerability in his eyes, one that he rarely shows, and it breaks your heart just a little. Slowly, he sets the plate down and reaches for you, pulling you into his arms.
âYouâre too forgiving,â he murmurs, resting his chin on top of your head.
âAnd youâre too hard on yourself,â you reply, wrapping your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. âI meant it. You donât have to be perfect with me, Jamil. You can be yourself, temper and all.â
He lets out a quiet sigh, his grip tightening slightly around you. âYouâll regret saying that one day.â
âI doubt it,â you tease, pulling back just enough to look up at him. âBut if I do, Iâll make more food.â
That earns you a small, genuine laugh, and before you can say anything else, Jamil leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His lips linger for a moment, and when he pulls back, his expression is softer than youâve seen in days.
âYouâre serious about that promise?â he asks quietly, his hand cupping your cheek. âThat no matter what, youâll always come back?â
You nod, holding his gaze. âAlways. Even if we argue, even if things get tough, Iâll be right here. Iâll come back and fix it, even if you canât.â
Jamilâs eyes flicker with emotion, and before you know it, heâs kissing youâsoft and slow at first, but thereâs a desperation behind it, a need for reassurance. You kiss him back with the same intensity, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer, trying to pour every bit of love and understanding into the kiss.
When you finally break apart, youâre both a little breathless, but the tension that had been there for the past two days is gone. He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he exhales slowly.
âIâll hold you to that promise,â he whispers, and you can hear the relief in his voice. âJust donât make me wait this long next time.â
You smile, reaching up to brush your lips against his again. âDeal. But only if you agree to eat more pancakes.â
He chuckles, pulling you back into his arms. âFine. But only because theyâre heart-shaped.â
And just like that, everything feels right again.
Vil Schoenheit
After two days of tense silence between you and Vil, you know you need to go all out if youâre going to get him to forgive you. Apologies are one thing, but Vil is someone who values effort, refinement, and, of course, aesthetic appeal. You canât just go in with flowersâno, you need to apologize in a way that matches his standards.
So naturally, you end up outside his dorm with a full-on spa set-up. A luxury at-home facial kit, to be precise, complete with rare, imported skincare masks and the finest essential oils. You may or may not have spent more on this than youâve ever spent on yourself before, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
When Vil opens the door, his eyes immediately narrow at the sight of you holding a basket filled with beautifully arranged skincare products. âWhat⊠is this?â he asks, raising an eyebrow.
You smile, trying to play it cool. âAn apology. In skincare form.â You thrust the basket toward him. âI thought maybe youâd like to, uh, pamper yourself andâlook! I even got the organic lavender serum you were talking about last month!â
Vil stares at the basket, then at you, his lips pressing into a thin line. âYouâre bribing me with skincare?â
âTechnically, Iâm apologizing with skincare,â you correct, flashing a sheepish grin. âI know I messed up, and I know you like to unwind with your beauty routine, so I thought this might help smooth things over. Literally and figuratively.â
For a long moment, he just stands there, gazing at you with an unreadable expression. Youâre starting to think you mightâve miscalculated when, suddenly, a soft chuckle escapes him. âYou are⊠absolutely ridiculous.â
You blink. âSo⊠thatâs a yes on the skincare?â
Vil shakes his head, but the faintest smile is playing on his lips. âYouâre lucky youâre my sweet potato.â
Relief floods through you at his words. âIâll take that as forgiveness, then.â
He sighs, taking the basket from you and setting it on the table. âYes, I forgive you.â But even as he says it, thereâs a hesitation in his eyes, a flicker of something deeper that makes you pause.
You step closer, gently reaching for his hand. âAre you still mad?â
Vil glances away for a moment, and you can see the tension in his posture. When he speaks, his voice is softer, more vulnerable than usual. âNo, Iâm not mad. But⊠I was afraid. So, so afraid that Iâd pushed you away too. That Iâd lost the one person who could tolerate me.â
Your heart clenches at his words. You can feel the weight of all the pressure heâs put on himself, the fear of losing someone important. Without thinking, you pull him into a tight embrace, wrapping your arms around him as if you could shield him from that fear. âVil, listen to me. Iâm not here because I tolerate you. Iâm here because I love you.â
He stiffens in your arms for a moment, but slowly, he relaxes, his hands coming to rest on your back. âYou say that now, butââ
You cut him off, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. âNo, I mean it. Loving someone isnât about tolerating them. Itâs about being with them because you canât imagine being anywhere else.â You brush a strand of hair from his face, your thumb gently tracing his cheek. âIâm here because youâre everything to me, Vil. Even if youâre mean sometimes. Even if we argue. Iâm not going anywhere.â
His eyes soften at your words, and for a moment, he just looks at you, like heâs trying to memorize every inch of your face. Then, without a word, he leans in and presses a soft, tender kiss to your lips, his hands gently cradling your face. The kiss is slow, almost tentative, as if heâs still afraid youâll disappear.
When he finally pulls away, you can see the unshed tears in his eyes, though he quickly blinks them away. âI donât deserve you,â he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
âYou do,â you whisper back, kissing him again, softer this time, lingering against his lips. âAnd Iâm staying. Forever, even if youâre a diva sometimes.â
Vil lets out a soft, breathy laugh, resting his forehead against yours. âForever?â he repeats, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
âForever,â you promise, pulling him closer until his arms wrap around you fully. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, holding him tight, and for the first time in two days, everything feels right again.
And as he hugs you back, his grip a little tighter than before, you know he believes you.
Idia Shroud
You stand outside of Idiaâs room, holding a stack of video game cases in one hand and a ridiculously oversized plush of his favorite game character in the other. This might be the dumbest idea youâve ever had, but itâs not like you could just waltz in and hand him a flower. Idia isnât exactly the flowers-and-chocolates type. No, he needs something bigger. Geekier. Something so outrageous that itâll leave him flustered beyond beliefâsomething that only you would dare to pull off.
So here you are, wearing a custom-made cosplay of the main character from his favorite RPG. And if this doesnât get him to forgive you, you donât know what will.
You knock on his door, bracing yourself for whatâs about to come next. At first, thereâs no response, so you knock again, louder this time. After a few seconds, you hear shuffling inside and the telltale sound of something crashing to the floorâclassic Idia. Finally, the door creaks open just enough for you to see a pair of glowing eyes peeking through the gap.
âWhat⊠are you wearing?â His voice is barely audible, and you can already tell heâs regretting opening the door.
With a dramatic flourish, you throw your arms wide and hold out the plush. âOh, mighty Idia, Lord of the Underworld and Master of All Games, I come bearing offerings to beg for your forgiveness!â You strike a pose, holding the plush in front of you like itâs some kind of magical artifact.
Idiaâs eyes go wide, and you swear his hair flares up a notch, turning into a bright pink. He blinks, clearly stunned, before his hand shoots out to yank you inside his room, slamming the door shut behind you.
âW-What are you doing?!â His voice cracks as he looks at you, then the plush, then the video games. His hair is now a brilliant shade of neon pink, a sign that heâs absolutely mortified. âAre you trying to kill me from embarrassment?!â
You canât help but grin at how flustered he is. âHey, I had to go big! You were ignoring me for two whole days!â
âI wasnât ignoring you!â He fidgets, avoiding eye contact as his hair flickers pink. âI just⊠thought maybe you were tired of me or somethingâŠâ
Your grin fades, replaced with surprise. âTired of you? What are you talking about?â
Idia sinks into his gaming chair, nervously picking at the hem of his hoodie. âI just figured⊠you know, youâd realize you could do better. I mean, câmon, Iâm not exactly âcatch of the yearâ material. Youâre always out there, living in the real world, and Iâm⊠well, here. Playing games and⊠avoiding people.â
You take a deep breath, moving closer until youâre standing right in front of him. âIdia,â you say firmly, âif you seriously think Iâd ever get tired of you, youâre out of your mind.â
He glances up at you, clearly unconvinced, so you kneel down, placing the plush in his lap before grabbing his hands. âYou mean the world to me. Iâd literally fight God in a 1v1 death match if it meant keeping you.â
His eyes go wide again, his hair flaring even brighter. âY-Youâd what?â
âI mean it,â you continue, squeezing his hands. âI love you, okay? Whether weâre sitting in here gaming or youâre talking to me about your latest game binge, or even when youâre convinced that youâre somehow not enough. You are enough, Idia. Youâre more than enough.â
For a moment, he just stares at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around you in the most awkward, yet endearing hug imaginable. His face is buried in your shoulder, and you can feel the heat radiating from his hair as it flares even pinker. âYouâre⊠too good for me,â he mumbles against your shoulder, his voice small.
You chuckle softly, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight. âNope. Youâre stuck with me.â
He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability in them. âYou really mean that?â
âOf course I do.â You lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek, watching as his hair flickers with warmth. âIâm not going anywhere. Ever.â
Idia blinks a few times before he wraps his arms around you again, pulling you closer this time. âYouâre ridiculous,â he mutters, but thereâs a smile tugging at his lips. âBut I guess⊠I forgive you. Not that I was really mad in the first place.â
You laugh, nuzzling into his neck. âGood. âCause I missed you.â
His grip tightens around you, and for a moment, you both stay like thatâwrapped up in each other, the tension of the past few days melting away. Finally, he pulls back, his eyes flicking toward his gaming setup. âSo, uh⊠you wanna play something?â
You grin. âI thought youâd never ask.â
The two of you settle onto the floor, your back leaning against his chest as he hands you a controller. He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, his hair still glowing a soft pink at the ends as the game starts up.
As you start playing, he presses a quick kiss to your temple. âThanks. For, yâknow⊠everything.â
You smile, leaning back into his warmth. âAnytime, Idia. Anytime.â
Malleus Draconia
The wind howls as you trudge across the campus, dragging a massive stone gargoyle behind you. It weighs approximately as much as a baby elephant, and if anyone else saw you right now, theyâd think youâd completely lost it. But you know exactly what youâre doing. You know the storm swirling above Night Raven College is because of him, and if thereâs one thing Malleus Draconia loves more than you (or so you like to tease), itâs a well-crafted gargoyle.
So here you are, yanking the poor stone creature across the wet grass like youâre on some kind of mission. Your arms ache, your back is screaming, and youâre about to regret this grand gesture entirelyâuntil you finally see the towering spires of Diasomnia in the distance. Almost there.
You pause for a second to catch your breath, leaning on the gargoyle like itâs an old friend. âYouâd better work,â you mutter to it, âbecause if I have to drag you all the way back, I swearââ
A gust of wind nearly knocks you over, reminding you why youâre out here in the first place. You shake off the rain, grit your teeth, and resume your march toward Diasomniaâs courtyard.
Once you arrive, you park the gargoyle right underneath Malleusâs window. Perfect placement. You could be a medieval decorator at this point.
You pick up a few rocks from the ground, size them up in your hand, and start tossing them at his window, each one making a soft thunk against the glass. After the third throw, the window creaks open, and Malleus leans out, looking down with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. His eyes land on the gargoyle first, then on you, soaked to the bone and holding a rock like youâre about to reenact some ancient ritual.
âHuh?â is all he says, blinking at the sight before him.
âMalleus!â you shout dramatically, âCome down! I brought you a peace offering!â
He stares at the gargoyle, then at you, before disappearing from the window in a blur. Within seconds, heâs outside, standing in front of you, his expression unreadable but his eyes glowing faintly with that magical storm swirling around them. The weather above you rumbles ominously, thunder echoing across the sky.
âMalleus, Iââ
Before you can even finish, he pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around you like heâs afraid youâll vanish. You freeze for a second, surprised, then feel his body trembling slightly against yours. âIâm sorry,â he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and filled with regret. âI didnât mean for this to happen. The storm⊠I didnât know it would affect you too.â
You realize then that his hands are shaking, gripping onto you like youâre his lifeline. Your heart softens, and you return the hug, pressing your face into his neck. âNo, Iâm sorry,â you mumble into his skin. âI didnât mean to upset you. I shouldâve come sooner⊠with or without the gargoyle.â
He lets out a shaky breath, and you feel the tension begin to fade from his body. Slowly, the storm above you starts to calmâthe wind softens, the rain turns into a light drizzle, and the ominous clouds roll back as if they were never there to begin with.
You pull back just enough to look at him, his glowing eyes now gentle as they meet yours. âSo, uh⊠do you like the gargoyle?â you ask, grinning a little.
Malleus chuckles softly, his eyes flicking to the stone statue behind you. âItâs⊠impressive. Though you didnât have to go through such lengths.â
You shrug. âWell, it worked, didnât it?â
He smiles, a genuine, relieved smile, and before you can say anything else, he tugs you back toward the castle. âCome inside,â he murmurs, his voice softer now. âYouâre soaked, and you brought a guest. We should both dry off.â
The two of you (and your new gargoyle friend) make your way to his room, and as soon as the door closes behind you, Malleus pulls you onto his bed, wrapping himself around you like a possessive dragon hoarding his most precious treasure. His arms curl around your waist, and his body presses snugly against yours as he buries his face in your neck.
You stroke his hair gently, the warmth of his embrace chasing away the last bit of chill from the storm. âYou know I love you, right?â you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.
âI know,â he replies quietly, his grip on you tightening slightly. âI just⊠sometimes, I worry.â
You pull back enough to kiss him properly, your lips brushing against his softly, reassuringly. âYou donât have to worry,â you murmur between kisses. âYou mean everything to me. And if I have to drag a hundred gargoyles across campus to prove it, I will.â
Malleus chuckles against your lips, a low, warm sound that rumbles through his chest. âPlease donât. One is more than enough.â
You laugh softly, nuzzling into his neck as you both settle into a comfortable silence, the storm outside completely gone now, leaving only peace and quietâand a very satisfied, if slightly confused, gargoyle standing guard outside.
Rollo Flamme
The argument with Rollo had left a strange tension in the air, but knowing him, it was probably accompanied by a quiet storm of overthinking and guilt on his end. Rollo Flamme wasnât one to voice his frustrations loudly, but his brooding could be as heavy as the weight of the world.
You figure itâs time to fix this, and, because you canât just do anything the normal way, you decide on something specialâsomething thatâd be just the right mix of thoughtful and ridiculous to get his attention.
Thatâs why you find yourself in the Bell Tower, with a bundle of parchment paper in your arms. Not just any parchment, thoughâcarefully selected handwritten notes of every philosophical thought, poetry piece, and historical fact you know Rolloâs obsessed with. Youâve even bound it like a book, with a dramatic title on the front: âAn Ode to Perfection: Why Rollo is Always Right (Sometimes)â. Itâs sarcastic enough to make him smile, but sincere enough to show you care.
Climbing the stairs of the bell tower is no small feat, but youâre determined. Once at the top, you glance out at the courtyard, where you know heâll be, and with a deep breath, you shout, âROLLO FLAMME, I HAVE CLIMBED THE HEIGHTS TO OFFER YOU THIS SYMBOL OF MY UNDYING RESPECT AND HUMILITY!â
Your voice echoes dramatically through the courtyard, and sure enough, you see Rollo down below, startled out of his brooding. He looks up, eyes widening at the sight of you, but itâs hard to tell if heâs more confused or horrified by the spectacle.
âI OFFER THISââ you hold the makeshift book high, ââAS A PEACE TREATY BETWEEN US, THAT WE MAY NEVER AGAIN BE SEPARATED BY MERE MORTAL PETTINESS!â
Rollo stares for a long moment, before he suddenly breaks into a full-on sprint toward the tower. Heâs halfway up the stairs before you know it, and when he reaches the top, his face is a mix of red embarrassment and panic.
âWhat are you doing?â he half-hisses, half-pleads, his cheeks flushed from both the running and the mortification of what youâve just done in full view of the school. His voice lowers as he grabs your arm and tries to pull you away from the edge. âAre you insane? You couldâve fallen, andââ
âI wasnât going to fall!â you grin, holding out the âbookâ triumphantly. âI came to apologize.â
He stares at the bundle of papers in your hand, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. âWhat⊠is this?â
âAn apology. Written in beautiful calligraphy and filled with all the reasons why youâre wonderful, overthinking, but still somehow right most of the time.â You wiggle the book in front of his face. âItâs all for you.â
Rolloâs face, already red from exertion, turns an even deeper shade of crimson. His lips part, but no words come out for a second as he glares at the book, then at you. âYou⊠climbed the bell tower. Yelled in front of everyone. And wrote a whole book toââ
âGet you to forgive me, yeah,â you finish for him, as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world. âI figured youâd appreciate the effort, Mr. Perfectionist.â
He looks at the book again, his hands shaky as he takes it from you, carefully cradling it as if itâs some kind of sacred artifact. His voice drops to a whisper. âYou⊠didnât have to go this far. I was never angry at you.â
You blink, surprised by his words. âWhat do you mean?â
Rollo glances down, his fingers curling tighter around the book. âI thought⊠maybe youâd realize you didnât need someone like me. That youâd see how much of a burden I am.â
Your heart clenches at his words. Without hesitation, you step closer, reaching out to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. âRollo Flamme, if you think for a second that Iâd leave you, youâre wrong. Iâd get into a fistfight with God for you, and win.â
His eyes widen, and a nervous chuckle escapes his lips. âThatâs⊠quite dramatic.â
âYou inspire drama,â you reply with a grin, but then your tone softens, and you pull him into a tight hug. âYou mean the world to me, Rollo. I donât care about your overthinking, your brooding, or your perfectionism. I care about you.â
He tenses for a moment in your embrace, but then slowly, almost hesitantly, he wraps his arms around you in return. His hands still tremble slightly, but he buries his face in your shoulder, his grip tightening as if heâs afraid to let go. âI donât deserve this,â he whispers, his voice barely audible. âI donât deserve you.â
You shake your head, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his temple. âYou deserve all of it. And more.â
For a moment, he just holds onto you, breathing deeply as if trying to calm his racing thoughts. Then, after a long silence, he pulls back slightly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he looks at you. âI⊠apologize as well. For doubting⊠for everything.â
You smile, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face. âWeâre both forgiven then.â
He nods, his face still flushed with embarrassment but now softened with relief. Without another word, he pulls you back into his room, where you spend the rest of the afternoon curled up togetherâRollo resting his head against your shoulder, still clutching the book you made him, while you hold him close, reassuring him with soft kisses and whispered words of love.
The tower bells toll softly in the background, but for the two of you, thereâs nothing but the warmth of each otherâs presence.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle x reader#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x reader#leona kingscholar#azul x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto#jamil viper x reader#jamil x reader#jamil viper#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#vil schoenheit#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#idia shroud#malleus draconia x reader#malleus#malleus x reader#rollo x reader#rollo flamme x reader#malleus draconia#hurt/comfort#reverse comfort
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MW2 Reaction To You Panty-Flashing Them
Warnings: Implied Smut, Mean! MW2, Dominant! MW2, Victim/Reader Blaming, Slut-Shaming, Reader Getting Pimped Out, Mention of a Leash, Allusions to Injury, Mentions of Blood, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ïżœïżœïżœYouâ.
Ghost
Ghost is a territorial man. So seeing you flash not only him but Johnny as well made something in him simmer.
It wasnât rage, for this little accident, regardless of how intentional it was, was not your fault. If he had to place it, heâd attribute it toâŠ
Lust.
As was evident in how he excused himself from the gathering of the 141 and Los Vaqueros in your living room, grabbing you by your arm.
He stowed you away. Dragged you to a desolate laundry room and gripped you by your thighs. You gasped, gripped onto him. Felt something hard rub against you.
Ghost threw you atop the washing machine and gave you a harsh stare as he watched you try to fight the feeling building within from the machineâs buzzing and shuffling.
âGo on then, Doll,â he rasps, eyes hard and the throbbing monster between his legs harder. He palmed himself. Remorse was not in his nature. And neither was mercy.
âSeeinâ as you were practically begginâ the others to fuck you, go and put on a show.â
His voice lowered. He stood between your legs, frame blocking you from any form of help or salvation.
âJust for me.â
König
König had been sat on your sofa, an action figure in a house for a doll half his size, and youâd bent over to retrieve something from beneath the TV cabinet.
The fact that you were wearing a pair of Königâs shorts was already clouding his moral compass. Seeing your underwear peeking out beneath them was what sent him over the edge.
As you remained bent, cheek pressed to the floor as you reached for what youâd lost, you didnât hear König approach. Didnât know heâd even moved from the sofa until something thick and hard was pressed to the back of you, followed by two heavy hands holding you at the waist, and a slow, shuttering breath.
âDonât move,â König told you. âStay like this.â
Slowly, he pressed deeper into you. You could feel his restraint unwinding second by second.
It was when he bent over you, had his broad chest pressed to your back, that you knew you werenât escaping. And you werenât backing down.
âIâm gonna fuck you âtil you cum, bleed or pass out.â Königâs voice held no humour, but you could feel the franticity building in it.
He reached round, gripped your chin. Made you look at him. His smile was sharp, his features dark.
âWhichever comes first.â
Soap
Johnny pulled the leash tighter around your throat when you tried to protest your innocence. Tried to make him see reason.
âDoesnât matter that it was âjust an accidentâ.â He mimicked you, made you sound weak, whiny. His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. His knuckles turned white around the leash.
His shadow loomed over you from your position on the bed, on your hands and knees while Johnny presided over you with an iron fist.
Tears obscured his silhouette. Made your eyes glassy.
âAww, Did I upset you, Bonnie?â Johnnyâs tone held a gruffness that didnât even try to hide the anger running beneath.
He huffed, a mocking laugh.
âHowâdâya think I felt when you were practically spreading your legs for Simon?â
Again, you tried to tell him what really happened. Tried to incur any fragment of mercy Soap would spare you.
He pulled on the leash again. Tighter. You gasped, hands flying up to the leather around your neck, trying to loosen it â to plead for Johnnyâs favour â as the air was knocked out of you.
âOh no, you donât get to talk.â He said. He stepped to you. The bulge in his jeans became ever more noticeable. Impending.
âMâgonna use you like the whore you are âtil my cumâs leaking out of every hole in your body.â
Valeria
âDo I look like I fucking care, Darling?â Valeria circled you, her belt wrapped around her hand, a glint of darkness in her eye.
Wrists and ankles duct-taped to the chair, you could do little to follow her. To understand her intentions.
âDo you really think whatever little lie you pass off as an excuse can quell the fire youâve set?â
Before you could attest your innocence, beg for forgiveness, Valeriaâs belt came down across your thighs. Crying out, you flinched, tried to withdraw, pushing your chair back in the process.
Valeria lunged forward and gripped the chair by the arms, pressing your skin into the wood, and dragged you back.
Her face twisted into a visceral snarl, the portrait of evil.
âPlease, Valeria, Iâm begging youââ
âOh, youâll beg for me, alright.â Valeria looked down at you, her face to yours. Just shy of your noses touching. With bared teeth, she smiled.
âI wonât stop until you do.â
Price
âIf you wanted attention that badly, you couldâve just asked.â
Price had your arms and legs bound to a hard, wooden chair while a thick ream of cloth had your mouth gagged. He stood over you, arms crossed over his front, a glint in his eye. He sighed, brought his hands to grip your tied forearms. Pressed them into the armrests.
You winced.
âWhatâŠpossessed you to go and show your arse to Alejandro and the rest of the team?â His voice reflected a tone of ponderment found only in Sarcasmâs extended family tree. And it showed with the faux confusion written in his brow.
âDo I just not cut it for you?â He leaned in. The chair creaked. Your arms hurt. He didnât let up.
âAm I not enough to keep you from throwing yourself at the nearest soldier?â
He watched you, his stare narrow. You shook your head, eyes wide. You tried speaking through the gag, tried to tell him that he was the only man you loved, but you both knew your efforts were futile.
He withdrew, gripped his belt, adopted his default stance. He heaved a deep breath.
âCome in, lads,â he called behind him, not taking his gaze off you. Your stomach tightened.
A thin smile stretched across Price's lips as he watched your eyes widen, your gaze following Simon, Soap, Gaz, Rudy and Alejandro as they filtered into the room.
Price bowed at the waist, lowered his voice so only you could hear.
âSeeing as youâre so keen to show âem whatâs under your clothes, Iâm gonna let them use you âtil youâve learnt your lesson.â
Horangi
Hong-Jin popped the top button of his jeans, keeping his gaze trained on you, spearing you with a dark stare.
âDid you enjoy giving König and I a little show, Dear?â
Sarcasm nestled in his tone, a viper in a den. But the excitement running parallel beneath it, just shy of its transparent underbelly, was evident.
Hong-Jin slid the zip of his jeans down. Pulled the denim over his hips.
âItâs only fair that IâŠâ He took your hand, placed it at the hem of his underwear. Dipped beneath the band.
His skin was scorching. Something pulsated beneath your fingers.
The implication sat heavy in his tone. In his eyes.
âReturn the favour.â
Alejandro
âI didnât know I was dating such an attention-seeking whore.â
Alejandroâs voice was the roll of thunder across a darkened valley, the weight of a downpour of knives settled into his tone.
Hands behind his back, he stood over you, having resigned you to sitting on your knees, the hardwood floor pushing against your joints.
âLuckily for you, Iâm not the type to hold grudges.â A smile played at his lips. One you knew not to trust.
âBut he is.â
Alejandro looked to the door, where, from beyond its frame, emerged Rudy. His face held a similar, serpentine pallor, his lips drawn up into a thin smile. Venom in his veins.
âWasnât expecting to get blue-balled by (Y/N) earlier, Ale,â came Rudy, his usually sugared demeanour having dropped, the veil between what he was and what he showed to the world slipping away. Retreating.
Alejandro gave him a knowing look. He turned back to you.
âWhy donât you be a good little doll and put your face to the floor. Just like we practised.â
The memory of leashes, lashings and tears flooded your memory. You held back a wanton whimper.
Alejandroâs voice dropped. âAnd let Rudy see the rest of what you promised him.â
Rodolfo
âI donât want to have to do this, Cariño. Rudy stood over you, his hands on your shoulders and his face dark. Grim.
His hold on your shoulders tightened.
âBut I canât let your behaviour goâŠâ
He searched your eyes for the right word. His brow furrowed when he found it.
âUnchecked.â
He sighed. Pushed down on your shoulders.
âCome on, Angel. Donât make this harder than it needs to be.â He told you, pushing harder until you bent to his will.
Now, on your knees, you could see how desperately he needed you.
One hand came to your jaw, thumb trailing to your lip, pulling your mouth open. The other slid down to his belt, sliding it from the buckle. It hissed, pulled tight against the metal. You swallowed.
Rudyâs breath shuttered, and you could tell from the way his hand clenched, the way he slipped the belt from his jeans like a snake, that he was enjoying this. Much more than he wanted to let on.
âNow remember, mi Amor, no teeth, no biting.â His head tilted. Condescending. âOr Iâll bite you back.â
Graves
He can barely contain himself.
It was only the briefest of flashes. It wasnât even intentional. But something about your shy smile after the fact once you realised what youâd done sent a vicious little idea to Gravesâs head.
He starts stealing all your underwear. Gradually, yet in large enough volumes that he doesnât have to wait longer than he can handle without his reward.
One day, you come into his office, face warm and tugging an oversized shirt over the top of your thighs.
âMissing something, Darlinâ?â Graves drawls. Your eyes narrow at him. You know heâs had something to do with your underwearâs disappearing act.
He puts his papers down, sighs, and rests the back of his head in his hands against the backrest of his chair.
âHow about you flash me again. Slowly, now.â His eyes glint with a dark mischief and want.
âYâdonât wanna know what happens if you don't do it the way I like it.â
Gaz
âOh, Darling, look what youâve done,â Gazâs voice carried despite the thickening tension in the room. Neither of you needed to look down to see what he was referring to.
Despite the chastising tone in his voice, his eyes were warm. Kind, almost.
âIf you wanted my attention so badly, you only had to ask.â
He stepped towards you, placing a hand under your jaw. He smiled.
âItâs only fair that I reward you for being so creative, isnât it ?â
His other hand came to your shoulder, pushing the strap of your tank top until it fell, leaving the sweeping juncture between your neck and shoulder exposed.
Has bit back a shuttering breath.
Despite his gentile voice, an angeline choir, the soundtrack of mercy, there lay a hunger in his eyes, in his barely-restrained grip, that suggested a beast lurked beneath his pretty boy exterior.
And you knew from the way he told you to âGet on the bed â be good for me,â that youâd be seeing it tonight.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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#mw2 smut#mw2 x reader#cod x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#konig x reader#konig smut#ghost x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#john price smut#ghost smut#soap x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#valeria garza x reader#kyle gaz garrick#rodolfo parra#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod
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Ryomen Sukuna
TW: captive reader, no-name character deaths, Sukuna in general
fem reader
Sukuna, in his true form some thousand years ago, carrying you on his arm so that your feet and dress donât stain with the blood on the floor. A sea of carnage heâd laid to waste only a moment agoâsoldiers sent to slaughter the monsterâs concubine, a heathenness whore. Theyâd fallen no different from flowers trampled underfoot.
It's a tragedy. If anyone could free you from his prison, it would have been them.
A heavy finger catches the tear dribbling down your face before it can fall to join the red below. âDonât water them with your tears,â he says, bringing the droplet to his lips. âNot even in death do they deserve it.â
You view his second faceâthe warped array of eyes upon an inhuman maskâas a punishment from the Gods for his vile ways.Â
âDid you think Iâd find it flattering?â you ask sharply through the sorrow. âMurder in my name?â
Nothing betrays the look in his garnet eyes, nor does the way he holds you. He simply lets you sit there, upon him like a thrown, admonishing him no lessâas if he hadnât just saved your life from a thousand swords.
âI donât,â you bite out when he doesnât answer. âIt sickens me. I curse whichever part of me attracted such a monster.â
That makes him smile. âIâm afraid thatâs all of you, turtledove.â He turns you around in his many arms and lays you to rest like a bride. âFrom your toes to the finest hair atop your headâI covet it allâlike treasure.â
He doesnât rush while wading through the filth whoâd tried to take you away from him, basking in their still-warm blood as if soaking his feet with their failure. He would have made it long-lasting if theyâd come close enough to breathe the same air as you. But since youâd begged for him to spare them, heâd acted with mercyâmaking their deaths quick and all but painless.
The things he does for you.
âDoes it frighten you to be the only one I care about?â he asks.
You look disgusted. He finds it rather cute.
 âNo,â you reply. âIt simply hurts.â
He throws his head back and laughs thenâboisterously. The echo rings throughout the temple, even making ripples in the red. When he looks down at you again, he bears a great smile.
âFine then, as you wish.â Evidence of his amusement remains while he speaks. âI wonât subject you to any more carnage from this moment onward.â
You know better than to take him for his wordâespecially when that awful grin stretches his face.
âNo, I shall rather keep you tucked away where no one will ever dare go lookingâand before I even dare come see you myself, Iâll make sure to have washed the filth off first so as not to trouble your pretty head with my savage habits. Now, does that sound satisfactory to you, my Queen?â
Heâs mocking you, you surmiseâcooing at you, laughing at the way you mourn. But it shouldnât surprise you. If he can rip people to shreds without so much as batting any of his eyes, making light of their deaths isnât all that more of an offense.
âAll this inanity has given me an appetite,â he states with a hearty sighâdismissing any further argument. âLetâs find Uraume and eat.â
⥠RYOMEN SUKUNA masterlist ⥠JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
#yandere sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna jjk#ryoumen sukuna#jjk sukuna#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagines#jjk#jjk x reader#yandere jjk#yandere sukuna ryomen#yandere sukuna#yandere ryomen sukuna
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Elysium [Sylus/Reader â
16K words â
Masterlist â
Series Index â
AO3] Beneath the azure sky and across the luscious green grassland, a love story unfolds. A/N: AO3 user InsomniacForevermore planted an itsy bitsy seed in my head, andâŠit grew...out of control, actually⊠đđđ My Grassland!Sylus Childhood friends/Arranged Marriage/Soulmates AU is finally here and I only had to sacrifice four nights of sleep for it. đ„č (btw, not necessary, butâŠlisten to DJ Sammyâs Heaven â Candlelight Mix while reading...or post-reading, whichever)
âââ â
â â âœ àŒ âŸ â â
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elysium â n. a place or state of ideal happiness
âââ â
â â âœ àŒ âŸ â â
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The warriors are home!
You first heard the excited cries while tending to your flock of sheep on the grassland. All around you and from far away, people were already abandoning their tasks and chores to rush to the village entrance to greet and welcome the returning warriors.
âSylus is also back!â one of the young maidens cried with delight.
Your heart paused at hearing his name, your breathing coming out uneven. Instinctively, you also rose to your feet. You left behind your flock to idly graze as your feet took off running at a breakneck speed back to the village. When you had arrived, a large, dense crowd had already formed at the square. The elders and the chiefâyour fatherâwere praising the warriorsâ heroic victories against opposing tribes, but among those who was lavished with the most praises was Sylus. His build larger than the other men and his intimidating height towering above others. Even from the back of the crowd, you could see him clearly.
Your heart quickened, seeing his sharp eyes surveyed the large crowd, going from face to face. The moment his eyes locked in on your petite form, his cold expression broke, the intimidating glare softened completely as he pushed through the crowd and rushed to you. In just seconds, he had gathered you into his arms, lifting you high above the crowd.
Laughter and cheers broke out at the sight of Sylus holding you up high, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs. You steadied your balance, hands resting on his shoulders, gasping and laughing, âWelcome home!â
He smiled back lovingly and murmured for your ears only, âIâm home.â
âToday, let us feast and praise our young men for the glory they have brought upon our tribe!â the chief declared, his words met by loud cheers and thunderous applauses all around.
You were helping bringing the food to the banquet when you felt a strong grip on your arm, tugging you gently back. You steadied the basket of flatbreads you carried and looked up, meeting Sylusâ gaze. He smiled at you mischievously.
âLet the other girls handle this,â he said, tossing a look to the other young women behind you giggling and smiling with envy. âCome with me.â
You couldnât get a word out as one of the girls came over and took your basket from you, all of them laughing and prodding you to leave with Sylus, much to your embarrassment.
âGo on, we know how much you have been missing him,â one of the girls said, batting her eyelashes teasingly at you.
âItâs a wonder our sheep didnât get stolen away by wild beasts while its shepherd was so lovesick,â another teased as she exaggeratedly patted her heart rhythmically.
âWas she now?â Sylus asked, amused. He gave you a knowing glance and you glared right back at him.
âOh, hush, all of you.â You rolled your eyes at your so-called friends before grabbing Sylusâ hand and dragging him away, your ears burning as you could still hear the laughter and cheering.
You paused in your steps once you both were out of sight. You looked up at Sylus, feeling sheepish now. âUmâŠActually, I donât know where we are goingâŠâ
He laughed and shook his head. âI was wondering where you were dragging me off to.â He leaned down and pinched your cheek, his grin widening. âThe chiefâs daughter still gets so easily flustered when others talk about her betrothed, hmm?â
âSylus, quit it!â You rubbed at your sore cheek with a pout.
âI canât help myself,â he said, pulling you closer into his embrace. âI have missed seeing you and hearing your voice these last few months.â
Your arms slowly encircled around his waist. You looked up with a bashful smile. âSoâŠyou felt the same?â
âDo you doubt me, my beloved?â
He leaned down and kissed your lips. It felt just as sweet and tender as you remembered when he last kissed you goodbye months ago. He parted, but his gaze remained on you, searchingâbeseeching.
âI would never,â you responded, standing on your toes and stealing another kiss from him, much to both his surprise and delight.
âCome,â he said, breaking away and smirking at your disappointed pout. âI have the horses ready.â
âThe horses?â
âWe have much to catch up on, my beloved,â he said, taking your hand in his, âAnd I do not wish for prying ears to listen in on our conversations.â
You rode upon your chestnut-colored mare while Sylus rode his stallion, its black coat sheening in the sunlight on the grassland. The horses walked leisurely across the plane side-by-side as their owners idly conversed. You excitedly rambled on and on about the most mundane events that had happened in his absence, only becoming acutely aware of his silence when you caught sight of his smirk.
ââŠIâm rambling, arenât I?â
He shook his head in disagreement. âI have missed your voice,â he answered, âWonât you tell me more?â
You felt embarrassed by how much you were talking, and even more so when you realized he was listening and watching you with such rapt attention. You shook your head fervently. âNo, itâs your turn to talk.â
âIt wonât be nearly as entertaining as your story of the goat herder getting drunk and falling asleep in the goat pen while his goats took over his home.â
You rolled your eyes. âI will not be swayed by such weak flattery.â
âThen shall I serenade to you instead, my beloved?â
You covered your ears. âThese mortal ears are not worthy of suchâŠunearthlyâŠsinging.â
He huffed. âMy men have enjoyed my singing these past few months,â he responded proudly, âSurely, my future bride would as well.â
âTheyâve truly earned their feast tonight then,â you murmured more to yourself.
âWhat was that?â
âNothingââ You paused, your playfulness disappearing instantly the moment you caught sight of several small colorful pouches in the saddlebag on Sylusâ horse, items meant to proclaim affections for the receiver of them. You didnât even think before blurting out, âWho gave you those pouches?â
You silently cursed the moment you realized what you had asked. You tried to look away nonchalant, missing the smirk rising on Sylusâ face.
âJealous?â
âNoâŠâ You nudged your horse, urging her to walk faster.
Sylus did the same with his horse, matching your pace. âThese were welcome home presents.â
âWere they?â Even though you tried to maintain a façade of indifference, you felt your skin crawling at the thought. Against your better judgment, your mind was already racing through the names and faces of all the village girls that could have gifted him those pouches. You played out possible scenarios of how the events could have transpired. You pictured those girls giggling and blushing as they handed him their homemade pouches that they had spent so much time on for him.
You pictured himâsmiling. At those girls. Smiling, as he received their gifts. Smiling, as his hand might accidentally brushed against theirs. SmilingâŠ
At others.
Sylus called your name, and you found yourself breaking out of your self-imposed stupor. You turned away to hide your red cheeks, embarrassed by your sudden behavior change. You tried to speak calmly, suddenly becoming very aware of how stiff your voice sounded, but it was better than to let your actual emotions come through. âIt will get dark soon. We should head back.â
âAre you jeaââ
You kicked your mareâs sides, urging her to take off at a gallop. You didnât want to hear him finish that sentence, didnât want to think further about what had transpired. You knew you were behaving irrationally and immature, but you felt like you couldnât face him, couldnât stand for him to see you in such a vulnerable, ugly state.
Sylus chuckled as he watched you atop your mare, racing away across the land in the direction of the village. He tugged at his stallionâs rein, yelling, and his own horse took off after yours. Even though he had allowed you a head start, it didnât take long for Sylusâ horse to close the distance.
You could hear the heavy hooves of the stallion behind you, and you urged your mare to run faster. It was a futile attempt to evade the approaching party. In a matter of seconds, Sylusâ stallion was running side by side with your mare again.
Your eyes widened when Sylus leaned over, his strong legs still keeping him steady on his horse. He grabbed you by the waist from your horse and easily carried you over to his, ignoring your panicked cries. The stallion had slowed to a halt, giving Sylus a chance to settle you and him more comfortably atop the horse. You watched with dismay as your mare continued galloping back to the village, leaving you trapped with Sylus. You looked up, shooting Sylus a heated glare.
âWhy did you do that?!â
âWhy are you glaring at me?â
âWhy did you grab me like that?!â
âWhy did you run away?â
âWhyâwhyââ
He waited, his arrogant smile making you even more flustered and angry and emotional. Your glare wavered; you could feel the hot tears brimming in your eyes. You hurriedly blinked them away, but now you could also feel your chest tightening with pain, your breathing coming out ragged. The longer Sylus looked at you and the more you struggled to keep your emotions in check, the worse you felt, knowing a dam was about break and you could do nothing to stop it.
âSo whyâ" Sylus stopped. His smile faltered when you finally broke down crying:
âWhyâŠdid you accept them?â
âWhat?â
You buried your face in your hands, crying, unable to calm yourself or keep the hot tears at bay. You shook and sobbed, your words tumbling uncontrollably out of your mouth, âWhy did you accept those girlsâ pouches?â
Sylus looked down at you, shocked, not expecting to see you crying, your voice holding so much hurt and pain, he felt guilty for putting you in such a state. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back to rest against his chest. He shushed you softly as he whispered apologies while you cried. You felt him burying his face in your hair, his chest pressing closer to your back, and you couldnât understand why, but the act itself just made you cry harder as you wrapped your arms around his, hurt and scared and angry.
As dusk settled in, painting the sky in purple and orange, the air felt heavy. In the wide expanse of the grassland, the plane stretched for miles and miles, seemingly endless. You were but a speck in the field, and in that moment in his arms, you truly felt so small and insignificant.
As you returned to the village, nightfall had already descended. You and Sylus had ridden back in silence, the awkward atmosphere only worsening with each passing minute. Sylus had kept an arm protectively around your waist the entire time while his other hand held the rein. You looked down, eyes following the horseâs hooves as he trotted back to the village.
âWeâre almost back,â Sylusâ soft voice broke through the tensed atmosphere.
You looked up, seeing the huts that lined the outskirt of the village and your mare quietly grazing in the distance. You wriggled a little, but that only made Sylus tightened his hold. You looked down at his arm around you and you said softly, âLet me down. I can walk back.â
âNo,â he answered.
âSylusâ"
He suddenly yanked the rein, forcing the horse to turn around in a different direction.
âSylus?!â you looked up, panicked, not expecting this sudden change in pacing. Sylusâ sight remained ahead, and your heart sped up at the view of seeing his handsome face from this angle, bathed only in moonlight.
Sylus commanded his horse skillfully and you both rode atop the stallion at a brisk pace across the grassland. The cool night breeze brushed against your cheeks, drying your earlier tears. You even found yourself starting to smile and laugh, the adrenaline taking over and stealing away your earlier anguish.
Eventually, Sylus took you back to the village once he had seen that you had calmed down. The horses were returned to their stable. After giving your mare a comforting stroke down her mane, you turned just as Sylus handed you the saddlebag. You looked up surprised.
âThey mean nothing to me,â he said resolutely, âBurn them.â
âIâm not going toâŠâ
He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, making you swallowed your words. âI had never meant to make you upset or have you cried like that, nor did I mean to make you jealousâŠâ
âI was not jeaââ
He leaned down and kissed your lips, silencing you. You dropped the saddlebag, the pouches spilling out on the ground. âSyââ
He lifted you into his arms and you looked up in surprise. âWhat are youâ"
He carried you out of the stable before letting you down again. You looked at him exasperatedly. âYou always do what you wantâthis is not fairâŠâ
âWhatâs not fair?â
âItâs not fairâŠhowâŠIâm the only oneâŠfeeling insecureâŠâ
In the village square, you could hear the celebration dying down as people started making their way home. The bonfire in the center still blazed brightly.
âYou are right,â Sylus responded, âI donât feel insecure.â
Your shoulders slumped and you kept your eyes lowered. You suddenly felt Sylusâ finger under your chin, tilting it up so your eyes met his.
âYou were promised to me,â he said, hushed, âAnd I to you.â
He kissed you. âWe are meant to be, and were we not, I would rewrite the stars, to change the course of destiny and weave a new tapestry of fate to make you mine.â
His forehead pressed to yours. âMy beloved,â he held his gaze with yours, âI will always choose you, in this life and the next. Whether we are meant to be or notââ
He kissed you again, and the last remnants of your jealousy and hurt faded away.
I will always choose you.
The following morning you were lazing in the field as the flock of sheep grazed peacefully all around you. The warm sunlight had you yawning, already feeling yourself being lured by the tempting sun into drifting back to sleep.
As the time passed, your eyes felt heavier, and you nodded off a little. Another yawn escaped before you decided a few minutes of rest wouldnât hurt. Slowly, you closed your eyes, letting them rest for a few minutes.
âIs this what you do when Iâm not here?â
You immediately opened your eyes when you heard Sylusâ approaching voice. You let out a soft surprised squeak when he knelt down next to you, his face looming just mere inches from yours. He was smirking. âLazing around and sleeping? What if your sheep gets stolen by wild beasts, my beloved?â
You glared at him. âI was not sleeping. IâŠwas blinking.â
âYour eyes were closed for far longer than a blink should be.â
âI had some dust in my eyes.â
âIâm quite sure I heard you snoring.â
You blushed and shoved his face aside, glowering when he started laughing at you. âDid you come all the way out here just to tease me?â
âMmhmm,â he answered with a pleased nod as he sat back with his legs propped up. His elbow rested on top of his leg while he cradled his chin in his hand. You noticed in his other hand was a wreath crafted from leaves and berries.
Your heart quickened and you gasped softly. You looked at him expectantly, wondering if this meant what you thought it meant. It was at that moment, though, that you noticed the dark bags under his eyes. You crawled over to him and he sat back, allowing you to settle in between his long legs. You reached up and touched his face.
âDid you not sleep last night?â you asked him worriedly.
He simply smiled and shook his head. Without a word, Sylus placed the wreath on top of your head. You reached up and touched it tentatively as you looked at him confused.
âI wanted to finish this for you,â he explained, smiling, âJust as I had thought. This suits you.â
âR-really?â
âMmhmm,â he hummed again, nodding. He leaned in to steal your lips. âYou look beautiful.â
âSylusâŠâ You could feel your cheeks warming up as he spoke.
âNow everyone will know you are mine and I am yours.â
You felt touched by his gesture. Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck, surprising him into losing his balance. Sylus laid on the grass with you on top of him. You grinned and kissed him happily. He looked up, gasping softly when he saw the sunlight had formed a radiant halo behind your head.
HowâŠethereal...
He smiled, his hand gently grasped your chin, his thumb brushing over your soft, trembling lips. âWe are already promised to one another,â he said, âbut if I may be presumptuous, I would still like to ask.â
You looked down at him confused.
âMy beloved,â he said, voice soft and sincere, âwill you be my bride?â
You stroked his cheek, and as you leaned down closer to his face, your wreath tilted on your head. âWhat do you think?â
He smiled. âYour wreath is going to fall off.â
âYouâll put it back on for me, right?â
He huffed in amusement at your audacious question, but he nodded. âYeah,â he said lightly, reaching up to fix the wreath for you, âI willâŠmy bride.â
For that brief moment, you felt like your heart had stopped, your mind replaying what he had just said over and over again. Slowly, you smiled again as you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close to his body.
âThis is my vow to you, my brideâ he said, your faces just barely apart, âThere is only you in my eyes. In this life and all of the lifetimes afterwards, I will always choose you.â
âSame for me,â you answered, gazing back at him fondly. You stroked his cheek, letting yourself willingly and helplessly drown in those passionate crimson eyes.
âI will always find you,â you promised, âIn all of our lives together, I will always find you and choose you, my love.â
Your ardent words beckoned his lips to yours, and for the rest of the day, you lay together under the warm morning sun on the grassland, lost in your own world of bliss.
Hands intertwined, you returned to the village with Sylus, his handmade wreath worn proudly on your head. There were envious looks directed at you and sighs of resignation heard here and there. You felt a squeeze from Sylusâ hand and you answered back with your own.
His love for you had always been true and steadfast.
When you looked back on your years together, it seemed he was always there, always yours.
The boy who was promised to you and you to him. An oath had been formed between two powerful families long before either of you came into the world, but perhaps it was always meant to be, because never once did either of you seemed to rebel against your destiny.
You grew up alongside him on the grassland, running barefoot and riding horses across the endless green pasture under the sun. It was a rich childhood filled with laughter and smiles, skinned knees and clumsy first kisses, with the boy who had carried you on his small back home. With the boy who had promised to grow up and become the strongest warrior on the grassland. With the boy who had sworn he would always keep you safe and protected.
The same boy, one day, had become a man, who had unwittingly stolen many young maidensâ hearts, but his own he had safeguarded and kept for you alone.
The man who would always find his way back to you no matter how far his duties may take him.
The man who would soon become your husband, the promise made so long ago between two families would now be honored.
You tightened your hold on his hand, and he smiled down on you.
That smile alone seemed to have banished any lingering insecurities you had. As you stared into his eyes, falling deeper and deeper, you knew nothing could ever sway him, could ever tear him from you. Likewise, there was no one else in your eyes and heart.
It was always going to be him.
There was much to celebrate in the coming weeks. Weddings after weddings took place across the village as one after another, couples were married off.
In the middle of spring, on a warm and sunny day, you were the last to be wedded, but your wedding ceremony was the most extravagant. As the only daughter of the villageâs chief, you were the pride and joy of your father. From birth, you and Sylus had already been matched, your future destined together, and now as young adults, the day for your wedding was finally here.
Dressed in red and gold, the colors symbolizing love and prosperity, the elder women prepared you for your groom. You pressed your lips between a lipstick paper, staining them crimson as your cheeks were painted in a similar shade with the rouge made from the scarlet flowers gathered in the grassland. Your hair had been cleansed, fragranced, and styled with gold and red flowers decorating your tresses. You were the very image of a new bride, and now the time had come for you to go meet your groom.
As you made your way through the village, passing cheers from well-wishers, your eyes honed in on Sylus waiting for you at the end. Your breath hitched, your heart speeding up. Dressed in a matching red/gold ceremonial robe and trousers, he waited for you with a smile. You couldnât help but noted appreciatively how the robe he wore brought out the beauty in his eyes.
His crimson eyes were always so sharp and piercing, able to strike fear into his enemiesâ hearts, but when he gazed upon you, there was only soft, gentle joy, love, and gratitude.
The happiness he felt in this moment, knowing soon, by the dayâs end, you would be his wife from now until the end of your time on this earthly plane.
The love he felt for you was deeper than the oceanâs depth, unmatched by any force in this world. He would lay down his life for you, rebel against the gods for you, he would submit to you time and time again.
The gratitude he felt for being born into the same lifetime as yours, to be able to have you as his, to build a life with you. He couldnât begin to express the depths of his gratitude, but he would gladly spend the rest of his life trying.
As you approached him, his gaze seemed to soften even more. You stood facing him, your heart beating faster than normal. One large hand cupped your face and you smiled, leaning into his touch, feeling your heart steadying again.
Soon, he and you would be tethered together in matrimony, your bond witnessed by your village and the heavens above.
You exhaled slowly as the priest began the ceremony.
âMay the gods and goddesses bless this pair, allow their union to be fruitful and their happiness endless.â
You stole a glance at Sylus, startling when you met his crimson gaze already settled on you. The fond smile he wore quickly transitioned to a smirk at your flustered expression. You started to look away out of sheer embarrassment, but you caught sight of him quietly mouthing to you: âEyes on me.â
You found yourself obediently listening to him, your focus entirely on the man you were marrying. Likewise, Sylus kept his own eyes on you.
Time felt sluggish as the ceremony wore on, your body moving through the motions and unable to truly comprehend anything that was said. You didnât even remember when the ceremony finally ended, only breaking out of your daze when the whole village erupted in cheers as even more scarlet flowers were tossed and thrown in the air to celebrate.
Now husband and wife, you linked arms with Sylus as you made your way back to the square, smiling and laughing as everyone cheered and blessed your marriage. You looked up just as Sylus leaned down and captured your lips, his sudden public display of affection causing a commotion.
While you were hyperaware of the many eyes on the two of you, Sylus appeared unconcerned. To him, there was no one else around. It was just the two of you.
âMy brideâŠâ
From morning to sundown to nightfall, it seemed like the celebration would never end. The feast was plentiful, the alcohol abundant, and all around you, people enjoyed the festivity to their heartsâ contents, feeling encouraged to engage in gluttony and merriment for this one special day. It was not every day that many would witness such a blessed union as this marriage between the most powerful warrior in the village and the chiefâs daughter. There was much cause for celebration, much joyous anticipation for the bright future that was to come.
While everyone was taking part in the merriment, you and Sylus sat at your own private table, idly chatting and dining, unable to tear your eyes away from one another. You were feeding him some fruits when the village herbalist brought forth a tray with two wooden bowls filled to the brim with a specially prepared wine for newlyweds, the alcohol laced with a potent aphrodisiac. You took one of the wooden bowls hesitantly while Sylus grabbed the other. You took an uneasy glance at your new husband.
He smirked, meeting your gaze. Without any hesitation, Sylus raised his bowl to his lips, downing the wine in mere seconds. You felt a flutter in your belly before you drank from your own bowl, feeling the alcohol burning down your throat. The wine itself rushed to your head, already causing you to feel a little tipsy.
With your inhibitions suddenly lowered, Sylus pulled you to him, his lips seizing yours, and you tasted the rich wine still staining his lips while he tasted yours. You were told the wine would take some time to take effect, so you wondered why you felt so lightheaded in that moment from just a mere kiss.
âCome away with me,â Sylus murmured, his lips just a breath from yours. Taking your hand in his, Sylus dragged you to your feet, steadying you, before leading you away.
He spirited you away to the field on the outskirt of the village. You both left behind the raucous celebration, hearing the drunken laughter and singing fading with each step you took. As the other villagers continued in their festive merriments, no one noticed the absence of the newly wedded bride and groom.
On the outskirt of the village, there was no lamp or bonfire to light the wayâonly the distant stars overhead to guide you through the darkness. You passed the slumbering flock of sheep, all clustered together for warmth and protection.
âThey need to be sheared soon,â you remarked, laughing as you pointed out the fluffiest of the bunch.
He smiled and grabbed your hand again, fingers intertwining together. He led you far away from the village, across the grassy plane.
How strange. You had run barefoot on these grass as children, and now you were walking side-by-side as husband and wife. You not-so-subtly leaned closer to him. He smiled.
âWhere are we going?â you asked, looking up at your new husband.
Sylus shrugged. âAway,â he answered, âItâs too noisy back there.â
You laughed. âCelebrations are supposed to be noisy.â
He shrugged again. âI do not care for them.â
âHow ironic, coming from a man who has been celebrated for his many feats all of his life.â
He chuckled, but decided not to deign a response to your quip. Instead, he paused in his steps, turning to face you, asking, âShall I take you away from this place then?â
âAnd go where?â
âWherever you would like,â he answered, making suggestions, âThe sea, the mountainsââ
âAnd if I say I enjoy our life on this grassy plane?â
He smiled. âThen I will build the biggest hut worthy of my bride.â
You giggled. âSuch a powerful boast,â you said, humoring him. âWhat if I donât like it?â
âThen I will build a new one.â
âWhat if I they all displease me?â
âI will still have a lifetime to please my fickle bride,â he responded, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. You both stumbled back, rolling down on the grass until you laid beneath him. Your cheeks suddenly felt warmer. Sylus peered down at you with a knowing smile. âMy bride is suddenly silentâŠâ
You looked up, wide-eyed and mouth slightly parted. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your senses suddenly heightened as you became all too aware of the close proximity of Sylus to you. He leaned down and nuzzled his cheek against yours.
Above him, the dark night sky loomed overhead, millions upon millions of stars scattered the heavens, bearing witness to the sacred union on the grassy plane. You felt a slight warmth in your body, but you brushed the feeling aside.
âThe moonâŠâ you murmured, gaze looking past him at the bright, full orb in the sky, âShe is beautifulâŠâ
âIndeed,â he answered, hushed, eyes fixated only on you. His long, slender finger trailed down your smooth cheek as he spoke softly, âHave I stolen a goddess to be my wife?â
âSuch sacrilegious words,â you chided him, but Sylus responded with a roguish grin, stealing your lips and taking your reprimand with delight.
He hummed and murmured in between the sweet kisses, âAm I wrong? Would the gods not bow down to your beauty? Would goddesses not become green with envy and wish to covet the love I have for you?â
You gasped for breath, unsure if your racing heart was spurred by his relentless kisses or the feverish words he had so sweetly uttered. You panted softly, voice still scolding, âThe hubris of this mortal manâŠâ
He pressed his forehead to yours, laughing, âI speak of only the truthâmy truth.â
âThe gods will surely punish you for such loose lips.â
âTo bear punishments simply because my only crime is that I wish to lavish my bride with praises and love?â He kissed you again, a haughty smile graced his face. âThen let them punish me.â
The warmth in your body spread. Surely, such words couldnât have this much of an effect on you, right? You vaguely noticed Sylusâ own expression seemed more heated, his eyes darkening with a look of desire and longing.
He kissed you again, but you felt it was different from the previous light, affectionate pecks. He was practically ravaging your soft lips to the point you felt like you would bruise. You moaned against his mouth, this burning inside of you worsening as you kissed him back just as eagerly.
As the night wore on, you began to notice the effects of the aphrodisiacs settling in, feeling the warmth spread in your body and seeing the flushed look on your new husbandâs face.
âSy-SylusâŠâ you called for him, and his lips and teeth grazed along your neck. You panted and tugged at his ceremonial clothes urgently. âIâŠI feel so warmâŠâ
âI know,â he husked back, hand cradling your face. He breathed in sharply. He himself was also beginning to feel the effects of the aphrodisiacs on his body, and coupled with the erotic sight of your flushed expression, he could feel himself hardening, needing you just as much as you needed him in this moment. He kissed your lips again, his voice coming out in soft pants, âI cannot wait to go back to our hut. I must have you now.â
You nodded, your body was aching, yearning for him in a way you had never felt before. You tossed your head to the side, your arms reaching up to wrap around your body, your own hands tugging at your clothes impatiently. âItâs so hotâŠSylusâŠmy bodyâŠitâŠit feelsâŠit feels likeâŠlike itâs throbbingâŠIâŠIâŠâ
He groaned at your words. He pulled away, and you looked upset at the sudden loss of contact, already missing his heavy weight on you, his warm heat against you, his soft touches on you. You whined softly, needing him on you again.
âDo you trust me?â he asked, breathless.
âWith my life,â you answered immediately, and he smiled.
He knelt before you, like a devout follower, your body his temple to worship at. He offered you his kisses, words praising your beauty. You watched, eyes glazed over, your throat drying, as he removed his clothes tossing them to the side unceremoniously. You felt the ache inside you worsened as you took in the magnificent appearance of your husband, your eyes raking up and down his glorious body. Your breath hitched as you bore witness to his manhood, feeling both trepidation and excitement swirling inside you.
He reached out and disrobed you, his own eyes greedily taking in the sight of your exposed body. There was no other beauty or treasure in the world that could entice him the way he was feeling for you in this moment.
âLay back,â he ordered, and though you were confused, you obeyed him. Suddenly, your eyes widened when he had your legs slung over his powerful shoulders while he settled between your parted thighs. You felt his warm breath trailing along your thigh, reaching your core.
âSylus, what are youâohhâŠâ your head fell back as you let out a moan, feeling his mouth pressing against your most intimate area.
His mouthâŠhe is⊠âAhhâŠ!â You covered your mouth, embarrassed by the unexpected noises you were making.
âDonât.â Sylus looked up, chiding you gently, âI want to hear more. I want to hear how good I am making you feel.â
âOhhhâŠâ You could feel him parting your slick lips, his tongue diving in and stroking against you in all of the right places. Your hips moved on their own, wanting more of this stimulating sensation he was bringing to you.
You opened your eyes a crack, barely able to see him, but you did catch a glimpse of his hand, seeing it wrapped around his magnificent manhood, pumping it urgently as he continued to pleasure you. You could feel your body pulsing at the sight, your breathing coming out in quick gasps and moans.
âSylusâŠohhhâŠâ
You whimpered, feeling an unfamiliar sensation happening to your body. âSylusâIâŠI feel strangeâŠahhâŠahhâŠâ
âDo you feel good?â he pulled back just a moment to check in on you, a smirk on his face. You whined in frustration at the sudden loss of attention. He laughed and continued. You cried out when Sylusâ other hand pressed against you, brushing over an area that had you bucking against him. He continued stroking that same spot, feeling that sensitive little pearl, that was making you cry and moan so desperately, the erotic sounds you were making had him stroking himself harder and faster. Your helpless cries rose in pitch, coming out fasterâŠand fasterâŠandâ
Your hips bucked up, your head tossed to the side as you let out a strangled moan, fingers finding only grass to hold onto as your body experienced the most euphoric sensation you had ever felt.
Sylus lapped at you greedily, forgetting his own pleasure as he wanted to only extend yours. You had never felt this high, this searing, hot pleasure coursing through your body. You focused on the feeling, wanting to hold onto it for as long as you could.
You were panting so hard, body trembling uncontrollably with pleasure. You didnât know how long the heavenly feeling lasted, but when you felt the haze starting to subside, you realized Sylus was lavishing you with kisses. You hummed back tiredly, feeling his hands explored your body. You moaned as he squeezed your breast experimentally.
âHow are you feeling?â His voice was soft. He pressed a kiss into the nape of your neck.
âSoâŠso goodâŠâ You said, but then you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him again. You still felt so hot inside, still not fully satisfied. You whimpered to him, âSylusâŠthe wineâŠâ
He panted, his hand cupping your sex, the friction from it only easing your ache a little. You needed more. Instinctively, your hips moved on their own, your body trying to seize whatever friction it could to satisfy this agonizing ache inside you.
âYou are still so wet,â he murmured, laughing softly to himself, âThis is goodâŠâ
You were confused by his words, but Sylus immediately kissed you again, reassuring you. âIâll quell the fire inside you.â
Your eyes widened when he aligned himself to you, the head of his massive manhood pressing into your slick folds. You bit down on your lip, wincing from the unfamiliar sensation as you felt more and more of him entering. You gasped, tensing.
âIâm sorry,â he murmured, pressing his lips to your shoulder. âBear with the pain a little, my bride.â
You arched forward, voice scared. âSylusâ!â
He hushed you softly as he pressed more of himself into you slowly, groaning as he felt your walls stretching to accommodate him. He gauged your reaction closely, pleased as you became used to the feeling of him penetrating you.
He watched as your expression slowly changed, your arousal coming back stronger as he sheathed himself fully inside you. For a moment, he remained still, buried completely inside you and letting you adjust to the feeling. His lips found yours again, his hand slipping into yours.
âAhhâŠmâŠmoreâŠâ
Sylusâ ears perked up the moment he heard your soft plea. He began moving. Slow, careful movements at first, and then he slammed into you, making you cry out as stars filled your vision. Once he was sure you were enjoying yourself, he picked up his pacing, setting a hard, fast rhythm.
You writhed beneath him on the grass, moaning as he spread you more, taking you in deeper. His kisses trailed down your neck to your chest, his mouth finding your nipple to suckle. You squirmed when his tongue teased the sensitive nub, swirling around it until it hardened. âSylus!â
He groaned when your fingers found his hair, tugging at him, urging him on. His voice was heavy with arousal when he spoke, âTaking me so wellâŠmy beloved beautiful brideâŠâ He kissed your neck, his hands explored your body, learning and memorizing all of the curves that only he would ever know and trace. He memorized the way you sounded, the way your body was trembling with pleasure as it felt every burning touch and thrust from him.
âSylusâŠmoreâŠmoreâŠpleaseâŠâ
He smiled and kissed your lips, swallowing your pleas hungrily.
Every powerful thrust had you calling his name, begging and pleading for him to go deeper and harder and faster. He answered your desperate pleas, giving you everything you were begging for. âSylusâI amâŠahhâŠitâsâŠcloseâŠâ
He grunted. He could feel it too, knowing you were so close to coming undone again by him. That sweet, mounting pleasurable feeling you had felt earlier was almost here, just within reach, a little more, andâ
You could feel your world tipping over, a white-hot searing pleasure coursing through your body, more powerful than the last. You didnât know which god or goddess to praise for the intense pleasure this man was bringing to you, but you continued to cry out anyway. You gripped the grass, tugging until you pulled them free from the ground. The grass blades slipped from your fingers and scattered in the wind.
Sylus continued to rock into you, his own climax nearing. His hands gripped tightly your hips as he pounded into you with enough force that your breasts bounced. His hand skimmed over your flat belly, already imagining it growing heavy with a new life inside.
âGoing to have you bear my children,â he murmured against your ear, his large hand gripping your much smaller one.
You moaned at his words. This was to be your role. You had always known it. The women were expected to bear their husbandsâ children, the future of the village depending on these fruitful unions. For a powerful warrior like him, there was even more pressure for you to conceive, to bear him many strong sons who would inherit and carry on his legacy.
âYes, yes,â you answered him breathlessly. You held onto him as he drove into you, his words reigniting the fire inside you. You whined softly into his shoulder. âPlease, SylusâŠâ
âOh, gods,â he grunted, âYou are going to look so beautiful, my beloved.â
You mewled at his words. âMoreâŠahâŠtell me moreâŠâ
His breath hitched, but he continued, his own words making him dizzy with pleasure. He was smirking as he panted, âWould you like that, my beloved? Would you like to grow big and round with my baby in your womb?â
You whimpered. It was your role. It was your duty. However, the way he asked, the way his deep voice sounded, rasping with desire, made you realized that you did want to have his babiesânot out of obligation, but as an expression of your sincere love for him. You gasped and cried out, âYes!â
That one word seemed to have driven Sylus wild. He spread you more and drove in deeper, his powerful thrusts unrelenting as he neared his own release. Your cries echoed in the dark night sky. You practically squealed, unprepared for this sudden aggressive switch.
âYouâre going to carry my baby,â he murmured, nearly delirious with desire, âGrow big and round with my baby. Everyone will know. Everyone will know it is my baby in your womb, my baby that I fucked into you.â
You panted and moaned, your hands searching desperately for anything to hold onto, anything to keep you grounded as he took you for himself. Normally so sweet and affable with you, his sudden lewd words had you throbbing all over again. You didnât realize you could get so aroused by such obscene words, but you found your body was craving more. You wanted to hear him say more of these perverted words, wanted to hear these indecent thoughts spoken aloud by his deliciously and sinfully deep voice. You wanted him to act on his lascivious desires, wanted those words to come true, wanted him to actually fuck a baby into you. You whimpered his name, gasping and pleading.
Sylus leaned in closer to you and you instantly encircled your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly. He wrapped his own arms around you, lifting you off the ground, your legs locking around his waist as he penetrated you deeply, hitting that sweet spot that had you feeling that same euphoric feeling approaching again.
âYou are going to look beautifulâso fucking gorgeousâheavy with my baby in you. Going to keep feeling you, going to fuck you over and over again while you are pregnant.â
His movements had become hurried and graceless, his own words mixed with your reactions had him close to the edge. âGonna fill you up, gonna keep you full, gonna make sure my seed take.â
âOh, SylusâI am going toâahh, donât stop, donât stop!â
You felt it, it was coming again, it was mounting, getting tighter, so close, so close, so fucking closeâ
You screamed your release into his shoulder, your nails scraping frantically along his back as you felt him emptied into you, filling and flooding your womb full of his seed. You bit down into his shoulder, and he hissed with pain and pleasure. There was just so much.
âSylusâahh, IâŠI feel soâŠfullâŠâ
He groaned and buried his face into your neck. His voice was low and commanding, âTake every last drop.â
âAhhâŠSylusâŠSylusâŠâ
He lifted your head from his shoulder, and he leaned forward, your lips his to take. You trembled against him, the aftershocks of your release still coursing through your spent body. You stayed in his arms, boneless and satisfied, the effects of the aphrodisiacs finally wearing off.
You looked at him with half-hooded eyes, meeting his own satiated gaze. His lips found yours again, his kisses more tender this time as you stayed in each otherâs embrace longer as you both slowly came back down from your shared climaxes.
You lay with him beneath the stars, the cool spring breeze a welcoming presence after your heated lovemaking. You nestled into Sylusâ embrace, sighing softly when he tightened his hold. He covered you both loosely with his ceremonial robe as you basked in the afterglow.
You prayed for this moment to last, to always remember every single detail of this night. Among the million stars above, you hoped at least one would hear your silent prayer and make it come true. You closed your eyes, letting yourself be enveloped by Sylusâ warmth. As you slipped into a deep slumber, you could hear Sylusâ rich, deep voice murmuring softly:
âMy beloved brideâŠI love you.â
As daybreak came, you found yourself waking up on top of fur, feeling a strong, protective arm wrapped around you. When you looked up, you didnât see the sky. You looked around and realized you were inside a hut.
You heard soft snoring and looked up, seeing Sylusâ sleeping face close to yours. You smiled as memories of the previous day rushed back through your mind, your cheeks tinging pink as you remembered the passionate night beneath the stars with him on the grassland.
You snuggled into his embrace, his now familiar warmth enveloping you. Sylus stirred when he felt your movements. He looked down and smiled, kissing the top of your head.
âGood morning, my bride.â
You smiled, answering him, âGood morningâŠmy husband.â
The one word seemed to have robbed Sylus of all thoughts as he seemed to sleepily replayed what you had just said again in his head. Slowly, happily, he smiled and pulled you into a kiss.
âSay it again,â he murmured against your lips.
âMy husband.â
âI love you,â he whispered back, his words making you swelled with joy. He rolled over and had you trapped beneath him. His feverish kisses covered you and you struggled to keep up.
âSyâSylus, the sun is upâ!â
âI do not care,â he murmured, nibbling your neck, âDo not worry. Just let this happen, my bride.â
You mewled softly, feeling his soft lips all over you, his hands roaming your body brazenly. Helplessly, you gave in to his wicked temptation and to your desires, surrendering yourself completely to him that morning.
By the next moon cycle, many of the new young brides had fallen pregnantâyourself included. The men had already departed for their hunting trip, already prepping for the cold winter months to come. They would not be receiving news about their expecting brides until they returnedâhopefully with a bountiful hunt.
You had all conceived around the same time, so everyoneâs growths were only slightly different. Even though, you were the last to lay with your husband, everyone noticed how fast you were growing, belly rounding out bigger and faster than the other new brides and mothers.
Oh, worry not, that is normal, one woman said.
The women in Sylusâ family all bear big, strong sons, another explained.
Thatâs right. You should be proud that you are already this big, you were told.
Child, do not fret, you were made for this, an elder assured you.
At night, you lay in bed, hand smoothing over your growing middle. Though the women in the village had offered you their wisdom and experience, you still felt unsure and worried about your fast growth. Your heart beat softly, your worries mounting. You turned in bed and stared at the empty space next to you, missing and yearning for your husbandâs warmth and comfort.
You closed your eyes, hand cradling your belly, and you prayed for Sylusâ safe and quick return.
When the summer heat crept in unexpectantly, the village resounded with joyous cries as the men returned with wild games and fowls. Some were to be feasted on in the coming days while others would be cured for the winter months when food was scarce.
You raced through the village as fast as you could in your current delicate condition, arriving at the square just as you saw the imposing figure of your husband. A large wild boar was slung over Sylusâ strong, broad shoulders as he entered the square, but the moment he saw your approaching figure, seeing your rounded belly, he dropped the wild beast and rushed to you, gathering you into his arms, laughing joyously.
He carefully steadied you on your feet, dropping to his knees as he cautiously felt your belly, surprised when he was already feeling faint movements. He looked up at you adoringly, âYou look breathtaking, my beloved.â
You covered your mouth with both of your hands, suppressing the laugh and cry threatening to rise. He looked at you concerned.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âIâve missed you,â you confessed, feeling tears brimming in your eyes.
He smiled. âIâm home.â
âWelcome home,â you said the familiar words you had said so many times in the past, but this was the first time you had uttered them as his wife. You sighed, relieved, repeating, âWelcome home.â
Nightfall arrived once more, and throughout the village, families settled in for the night one after another.
âIâve missed you,â Sylus murmured as he climbed into bed with you, his lips already finding yours. You hummed softly, feeling your heart beating fast when his large hand rubbed against your belly, feeling the faint movements of the baby inside.
You could hear his soft, disbelieving chuckle as he parted from you. His forehead pressed to yours, his lips still near yours. âThis is really happening,â he murmured, overjoyed âHow do you feel?â
âGood,â you answered with a smile.
âNo sickness? No discomfort?â
You shook your head. âThe herbalist had given me some medication to help with the sickness.â
Sylus nodded in understanding. âThatâs good then,â he murmured. He kissed your forehead, and he apologized softly. âThis wonât be easy on you, so I want to ease your discomfort as much as I am able to.â
âSylusâŠâ
He leaned down and kissed your belly. âYou are giving me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.â He rubbed your belly fondly, delighting in feeling his child responding to his touch, âThank you, my beloved.â
The fears and unease you had felt about your changing body disappeared the moment you laid with Sylus. The flames in the lamps had long been extinguished, but you felt like in the dark hut, you could still see him clearly, see the love and desire in his eyes.
He worshiped your body the same way he did on your wedding night, reveling in the beauty and changes happening. The stretch marks that had started to appear around your stomach were caressed and kissed with revere, his voice full of praises and gratitude for the sacrifices you were making to carry his child.
When he gripped your soft, widened hips, you let out a low, deep moan, your body welcoming him in. The night air was cool on the grassland, but within this hut you both called home, there was a heat unlike any other as sweat-slicked bodies moved together with familiar ease. The air was thick and heavy with the sounds of your intense lovemaking, and where your moans ended, his began.
You kissed him, your ardent words coming out in between gasps and moans, âWelcome homeâŠmy loveâŠâ
He smiled against the sweet kisses, greedily taking them for himself. His forehead rested against yours, his movements reaching you where you needed most, and as you came, trembling so beautifully with pleasure beneath him, he breathed against your neck:
âIâm home.â
The once vibrantly green grass of the plane had begun to yellow, drying out as the weather started changing. The morning air had been chilly, and within Sylusâ warm embrace in the early hours, you both felt reluctant to leave the comfort of your shared bed.
You could hear stirring outside your hut as one by one, many of the villagers were getting up, ready to start the brand-new day. You burrowed into Sylusâ embrace, ignoring him when he laughed.
âAre you not going to get up, my bride?â
You shook your head. âItâs still earlyâŠâ
You felt his hand brushing aside your hair, hearing a soft agreeable hum from him. You perked up when you heard him speaking again, âI will have to leave soon.â
âNo,â you said, grabbing his arm and preventing him from getting up. âStay with me a few minutes longerâŠplease?â
He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. He leaned over and kissed your head, his hand smoothing your hair to the side. âSo needy this morning,â he teased, though you didnât care. You did feel needy, wanting him to stay and coddle you a little longer.
âSo what if I am?â you challenged him. You attempted to sit up, but the heavy weight you carried made the once simple task much more difficult. Sylus immediately helped you as you cradled your large belly. You wondered just how big you could get for the remainder of your pregnancy. You already felt impossibly large, almost embarrassed by your size compared to many of the other expectant women in the village. You leaned back against the wall, sighing as you rubbed your belly restlessly.
He smiled sympathetically and kissed you again, his own hand resting over your stomach. âThe baby is already so active this early in the morning,â he said, astonished.
âHe must take after his father,â you said wearily as you shifted uncomfortably, âHe doesnât let me rest at all at night.â
Sylus smirked; his expression wickedly lewd. âIs that so?â He felt your belly again, feeling nonstop movements from the baby. He glanced at you, seeming intrigued by your earlier comment. âYou said âhe.â What makes you so sure itâs a boy?â
You shrugged. âThe women have told me that I am carrying low, which they said all points to me carrying a boy.â
Sylus looked puzzled by your explanation. âAnd you believe them?â
âI donât know,â you admitted, âBut I thought you would be pleased to hear the baby might be a boy?â
âI wouldnât care if itâs a boy or a girl,â he said firmly. He leaned closer, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of your head, keeping you trapped. He smirked and kissed you. âBesides, I have no intention of just having one child with you.â
You blushed and tried to look away. You gasped when he went in and kissed your cheek, his lips traveling further south as he continued down your neck. âSyâSylusâŠâ
âI knew it. You look so beautiful like this,â he murmured, his hand continued to caress your belly, delighting in feeling his child moving inside you. âCarrying my baby, having my babyâŠâ
âMmm, SylusâŠâ
He laughed again when he felt a particularly strong kick. âI see we have a fighter,â Sylus said, smiling, âMaybe he does take after meâor she.â
You looked at him curiously. ââSheâ?â
He nodded and laid back down next to you. He kissed your belly, stroking it fondly. You felt a warmth in your chest when he did that, his look of adoration and delight making you smiled fondly.
âI want both sons and daughters,â he said firmly, looking up at you. He stroked your cheek, âI want daughters as pretty as their mother. As sweet as their mother. As loving as their mother.â
You smiled, your cheeks colored a pretty shade of pink. You decided to play along with him, teasingly asking, âDoes that mean I want sons as strong as their father? As dependable as their father? As free-spirited as their father?â
âIs that how you see me?â
You nodded. You tilted your head and looked thoughtful. Sylus raised a brow at seeing your sudden quiet disposition.
âWhatâs wrong?â he asked, stroking your cheek again.
âDo...do youâŠâ
âDo I what?â
Your cheeks brightened further.
âTell me,â He demanded. âWhat is it?â
âHow many children are we going to have?â
Sylus wasnât expecting that question, so it took him a few seconds to register what you had asked him. He then laughed, making you feel embarrassed. He quickly apologized, kissing you reassuringly. âI donât know,â he admitted, âBut I want to have a lot of children with you.â
He sat up, his hands cupped your face as he leaned in closer. âAs many as my beloved will allow me to have.â
âThen,â you started hesitantly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest, âIf I sayâŠI want to give you as many as you wantâŠâ
Sylus looked surprised, and then he smiled again, his lips brushing against yours. âThen, I feel like the most blessed man in the world.â
He pulled you into his embrace, showering you with sweet words and kisses.
Outside the hut, life had already begun again as people went about their day and chores. You both could hear the laughter of children running outside, mothers scolding their little ones, and men already laboring away to provide for their family.
For this particular morning, you and Sylus both decided to idle, to lounge around and enjoy the comfort of each other. As you lay in his arms again, Sylus lulled you back to sleep with stories of the future. You drifted to sleep, his deep voice describing a memory yet to come: beneath the azure summer sky and across the luscious green grassland, your children raced barefooted, their sweet bell-like laughter carried away by the playful wind.
âI feel like I am being kicked in all directions at once,â you sighed one cold evening, your hands rubbing restlessly all over your stomach. âSurely, this is not normal.â
Sylus wrapped his arms around you from behind. He looked down at you, your pout nearly making him laugh out of complete adoration for you. He couldnât help but found you endearing whenever you looked frustrated and upset.
âYou must be close to giving birth now, right?â
You nodded as you grabbed Sylusâ hand, guiding him to where you felt the most movements in your womb. You smiled when you looked up, seeing his surprised expression when he felt the babyâs strong kick. You answered his inquiry, âThe midwife said it wouldnât be long before the baby drops.â
As soon as you finished saying that, your expression faltered. Sylus noticed the change and he questioned you gently. You tried to brush it aside, but Sylus persisted, demanding to know what was upsetting you so suddenly.
You reluctantly relented. âSylus,â you started, your voice growing smaller as you prepared for your confession, âIâmâŠscared.â
His expression softened. He turned you around to face him, but you kept your sight downcast. You could feel Sylus rubbing your cheek in comfort.
âWhatâs wrong?â he asked, âSpeak to me.â
âWhat ifâŠsomething goesâŠwrong.â
Sylus was immediately silent. You slowly looked up. His lips were a tight line, his eyes hardening. You could see him inhaling sharply as he seemed to try to keep his emotions under check for your sake. You then felt him guiding you to your bed.
You both sat down and Sylus was holding your hand tightly in his. At first, he didnât say anything, almost as if he was trying to gather his thoughts and choose his words carefully. After a few beats, he began to speak:
âI do not wish to lie to you,â he said, mindful of his words, âButâŠI also do not like thinking of the possibility. All I can do is believe that everything will be fine.â
You looked unassured; your expression still anxious.
He pulled you into his arms. âI refuse to think otherwise,â he continued, his hand rubbing the back of your head soothingly, âYou are strong and capable. Our baby is healthy and active. I have no reason to think differently.â
âSylusâŠâ
He leaned down and kissed your forehead. He looked apologetic as he spoke, âI wish I could take away your worries.â
You rested your cheek against his chest, eyes closed. You could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. This wasâŠcalming, you realized. His presence alone was comforting you, easing your fears. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, hesitant.
âWill youâŠstay with me? When I give birth?â
He looked at you confused.
âPleaseâŠâ
He gave you a small smile, his hands cupping your face as his thumbs massaged little circles on your cheeks. âYou know men are not allowed in the room.â
âSince when do you follow rules?â
At this, he laughed, conceding immediately. âYouâre right,â he said, nuzzling his face against yours, âI will gladly stay with you, my beloved. I donât want you to ever feel like you are alone, especially during this time.â
You smiled against him, feeling as if the worries you had been shouldering silently was easing. You still felt scared, felt so unsure of yourself, but you knew with Sylus by your side, you could find the confidence to believe that everything would work out in the end.
âOh!â
âWhatâs wrong?â Sylus looked down at you, his face hardening.
You laughed as you peered down and felt your belly. You gasped again, laughing louder, âHe is really not making it easy on me!â
Sylus relaxed, smiling with you.
âOr she,â Sylus reminded you, his own hand covering your stomach. He stroked it lovingly as he continued to speak, âShe could be upset that her mother is scared and anxious.â
Sylus nuzzled his face against yours again, kissing your cheek. âBut I hope her mother will feel better knowing I am here.â
You smiled, touched by his attempts at comforting you. âI am,â you answered. You then poked his cheek playfully, your expression puzzled. âBut why are you so insistent that the baby is a girl? I thought you said it didnât matter.â
âIt doesnât matter,â Sylus reaffirmed, grinning, âBut we donât know for sure yet if it is a boy or a girl. I donât see why we canât entertain the idea that we could be having a daughter.â
You laughed softly. You wrapped your arms around your large belly. âYou say it doesnât matter, but why do I get the feeling that you are really hoping for a girl?â
He smirked. âAm I?â
He pulled you down into bed, helping you lay on your side, your back resting against his chest. Sylus rubbed your stomach soothingly, his warmth encompassing you. You closed your eyes peacefully as you listened to his calming voice:
âWe could have a pretty little daughter,â he began, his smile infectious. âPerhaps she will be as feisty and sweet like her mother. She would be the brightest jewel in the grassland, our precious little treasure.â
âWe would have to find a good husband for her,â you quipped teasingly. You opened your eyes and looked up just in time to catch Sylusâ look of utter disdain. You giggled and poked at his cheek again, making him frowned even more. âWhat is with that look?â
âThe very idea displeases me.â
âWhat about it displeases you?â
âJustâŠeverything.â
You tsked at him. âBe honest,â you said, amused, âwhat do you not like about this?â
Sylus groaned and looked down at you with a light glare. âYou are really going to make me say it?â
You nodded with a grin.
âNo boy will be good enough for her.â
You laughed.
âYouâre laughing at me,â Sylus said, offended. He had genuinely thought you would be on his side on this matter. âYou are actually laughing at me. How impudent.â
You rolled your eyes at him, saying, âI am sure we can find her a perfect match. After all, we were matched perfectly by our parents, right?â
Sylus looked at you defeated. âYou are being very unfair.â
âI am being as fair as I can be when we are discussing about our baby, who we still donât know for sure if itâs a boy or a girl.â
Sylus sighed. âVery well,â he conceded, still unhappy, âYou really ruined my good mood.â
You looked at him with mock-pity. âAnd your baby keeps me up at night. And itâs your fault I canât see my feet any moreâand they are swollen because of you, too. And alsoââ
âAlright, alright,â he relented, amused, âI know when to call it quits.â
He pulled you back against him, his hand resting over your stomach. He murmured into your ear, âBoy or girl, it doesnât matter. The baby is already the greatest gift you can give me, so thank you, my beloved.â
You closed your eyes and smiled, letting his gentle ministrations eased you to sleep as you felt the baby you carried calming down, seemingly also lulled by their fatherâs presence and voice.
One by one, many of the young mothers went into labor with their child. Day after day, week after week, the painful wails and desperate cries of laboring mothers were heard throughout the village as a child was brought forth into the world.
You were the last, and everyone waited with bated breath for your childâs birth. You were already the biggest, and with each new day, you continued to grow uncomfortably bigger. The cold winter month was also settling in, stripping the grassland of its once vibrant colors and life.
On this particular evening, the first snowfall had arrived, already blanketing the grassland in a layer of snow. You had heard the laughter from children as they played, attempting to catch the falling snowflakes on their tongues. You looked down at your belly, rubbing it as you wondered what your childâs first reaction to snow would be like.
âPlease come out,â you pleaded to your stubborn baby, âDonât you want to see the snowfall, too?â
You felt a strong kick, almost as if the baby was responding negatively to your plea and question. You sighed, and huffed resignedly, âAlready stubborn like your fatherâŠâ
âWhat about me?â Sylus entered the hut just as you finished speaking.
âNothing,â you lied, giving him a poorly-disguised smile. He knew you were fibbing, but decided it was perhaps in his best interest to not antagonize you during this time. He knew the last couple weeks had been rough on your body and with so many women having already given birth to their babies, he knew your anxiety was also increasing as your own child seemed adamant about prolonging your discomfort.
âDo you want to eat something?â Sylus offered, but you shook your head.
âI think I want to walk.â
âItâs snowing outside,â he answered.
âI know,â you responded, âMaybe I can just walk around the hut. It will help with the pressure around my hips.â
Sylus nodded.
You paced your hut restlessly, one hand on your lower back as the other cradled your large belly. You breathed in and out slowly, wincing in discomfort. Sylus walked up behind you, his hands settling on your hips as he rubbed soothing circles.
âDo you think itâs almost time?â he questioned, worried.
You were about to shake your head, but you winced again in discomfort. âI donât know,â you admitted, as your hands rested over his appreciatively, silently urging him to press in harder. He complied.
âThe last three days have been false pains,â you said, frustrated, âDoes the baby not want to be born?â
He chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle his face against your cheek. âThe baby probably feels safe inside you, so it doesnât want to be born yet.â
âI would feel touched by such lies,â you started, turning to peck his cheek to his amusement and delight, âbut, Sylus, I am too uncomfortable to put up with your thinly-veiled flatteries.â
âWhen have I ever flattered you?â he remarked with a teasing grin, walking around to face you. He rubbed your overdue belly with a sympathetic smile. He couldnât help but found your frustration endearing, though he knew better than to voice such thoughts aloud during this time. Instead, he guided you to bed.
You sat down in between his legs, your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his hands rubbing soothing circles around your gravid middle as he leaned down and nibbled on your neck, whispering huskily, âI know this has been tough on you, my beloved, but I have adored seeing the changes that you have been through to carry our child.â
His brazen touches felt so possessive, as if it made him proud to know that the many changes that had happened to your body was his complete doing. You whimpered and sighed as he continued, seemingly growing bolder with his intents. The featherlight kisses he peppered along your neck felt like such a stark contrast to the lustful words he whispered to your ears.
âSo beautiful, so fertile,â he said, his voice so honeyed and sultry, you felt like you were pulsing inside. You could barely keep your breathing steady or your voice quiet. Sylus gazed at you intensely, his scarlet eyes seemed to shimmered with satisfaction. He appeared almost pleased by your flushed doe-eyed look. He continued in the same hushed, sensuous voice, his hands practically groping you all over, âAnd so voluptuous. You have filled out beautifully, my beloved.â
âSylusâŠâ Your voice sounded breathless as you reached down to grab at his mischievous hands. You felt a building warmth in your body, his devilish voice and tantalizing words igniting a fire inside. With his teasing ministrations on your sensitive body, you began to crave for more from him. You squeezed his hands.
âWhat is it?â His breathing stopped for a moment, seeing the aroused look in your eyes.
He smirked.
Sylus leaned in and kissed you, his touches shameless and greedy.
He helped you lay down and as he continued to trail kisses down your neck, his hands were already working on undressing you. You tugged at his own clothes, and he chuckled in amusement at your impatience. He began undressing himself as well, letting all of the clothes fall to the ground. He lay down behind you, his lips trailing along your shoulder as his hand rubbed your much overdue belly. You whined as you felt him rutting against you from behind, his hard member pressing against your slick entrance.
âP-pleaseâŠplease, SylusâŠâ
You felt your insides throbbing, desperate to be filled by him. You gasped into a pillow as he answered your plea, his massive manhood slowly easing in, drawing out your heavy moans. You felt his hand pressing into your hip, gripping you tightly as he buried himself in you.
You were practically crying with relief, just feeling him sheathed inside you was easing the discomfort you had been feeling these past few weeks. You rocked back against him, a silent invitation. Sylus smirked.
He began moving, but compared to your previous lovemaking with your husband, this time Sylus was careful, his movements slow but precise, still able to draw out your pleased moans. He gauged your reactions, his own pleasure secondary as he was more concerned about your comfort.
âSyâSylusâŠm-moreâŠâ
âAre you sure?â His words came out in soft pants. Seeing you so heavy, so close to going into labor with his baby, was arousing him in a way he never knew it could. He wanted nothing more right now than to fuck you like a wild beast, to make you writhe and scream with pleasure. He was only holding himself back for your sake.
When you nodded, unaware of his inner desires, that was enough to break his restraint. You gasped as you felt his thrusts getting harder, feeling it reaching you deeper and deeper. Your fingers curled around a blanket, gripping it tightly as your face was buried against a pillow as you felt him driving into you with more force than before.
You groaned and moaned into the bed, your grip around the blanket vicelike as you felt his length piercing you with precision over and over and over again. You called out his name, your pitch higher than normal. Sylus groaned deeply at the heavenly sound, his arousal clouding his mind with only thoughts of claiming you again and again until you went into labor.
Sylusâ pants grew heavier, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of you. In his eyes, you looked absolutely perfect like this. On your side, heavily pregnant with his baby, your leg held up by him as he fucked shamelessly into you. Your cries and moans were the sweetest noises he had ever heard.
Sylus reached around you with his other hand, groping your heavy, tender breast, kneading and teasing until your milk leaked and dribbled openly down your chest. At this point, you were too far gone, completely lost in this thick haze of pleasure to even feel any embarrassment or worried about your modesty. Whatever he was doing, you wanted even more from him.
âDonât stopâŠdonât stopâŠahhâŠplease, Sylus, more, more, moreâŠ!â you whined over and over, his name spilling shamelessly from your lips. You could feel your pleasure was cresting, reaching new heights. ââŠSylusâŠSylus!â
âFuck!â he hissed as he felt you cumming around his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, one hand squeezing your breast as his other gripped your hip so hard, you would surely bruise by morning. Without a word, he spilled into you, hot and heavy.
Your eyes squeezed shut, lost in this state of euphoria. You moaned, feeling so full. He was cumming into you so much, you felt his release dripping out of you.
You gasped, feeling a twinge in your belly.
âOh, gods, ahâŠahâŠahâ you panted as you reached for his hand over your breast. You whimpered as you felt an unfamiliar tightening around your stomach, the pain intermingling with the residual pleasure you were feeling. âSyâSylusâŠâ
You called for his name weakly, and Sylus was immediately alerted. He looked down at you in concern, feeling your nails scraping against his hand. âWhat is it? Whatâs wrong? Did I hurt you?â
You shook your head, but you couldnât stop the whimpers from escaping your lips. The cramps were worsening and you just wanted to curl up. âAhâŠSylusâŠmy belly hurtsâŠâ
At those words, Sylus pulled out of you slowly and more of his release spilled out obscenely. His breath hitched the moment he realized his seed wasnât the only thing dripping out of you and down your thighs. There was a growing wetness on the bed beneath where you lay.
Your water had broken.
You gasped and clutched your belly, feeling the first pangs of labor as well as the baby descending lower in your womb. There was so much pressure in your hips, you began to panic. Seeing your distress, Sylus immediately dressed and rose to his feet, rushing outside the hut, his deep voice bellowed across the quiet village, âCall for the midwives! Itâs time!â
Night descended over this small village once more, and the first snow of winter continued to gently fall, the ground already accumulating several inches from the past hours. The village was quiet, giving the illusion of tranquility, but within one lone hut, the atmosphere was tensed as you labored while several midwives tended to you.
âIt wonât be long, child,â a midwife commented, checking the progress of your dilation. Another wiped at your sweat-soaked face with a cooling cloth, giving you a look of sympathy.
You whimpered and gritted your teeth as you breathed through the next pains.
âEasy, easy now,â you heard Sylusâ voice behind you. Cradled in between his long legs, you leaned back against his chiseled chest, panting heavily. You were grateful that he had insisted on staying with you in spite of the midwivesâ initial opposition. With only one sharp glare from Sylus, he had everyone yielding to him, none daring to oppose the fearful warrior.
You felt Sylus caressing your small fingers in his hand, this simple act already keeping you grounded and calm. You whimpered quietly, âIt hurts so muchâŠâ
He looked down at you helplessly. âI know, my beloved, but youâre doing so well. Stay strong.â
You moaned softly as you felt Sylus large hand massaging your hips, easing some of the pain, if only a little. As the minutes ticked by, you felt the pains getting closer and closer until you finally heard the words you were desperately waiting for:
âShe is ready to deliver.â
You leaned further back against Sylus as he helped you get into position to start pushing. With your legs spread and propped up, you began pushing at the midwifeâs urging. Your eyes widened as you felt the baby shifting inside, dropping lower.
âItâŠit feels soâŠbig,â you gasped.
Before one of the younger midwives could make a quick remark regarding the genetics in Sylusâ family, he silenced her with a cold glare, making her cowered back. He looked down at you warmly, your hand in his. âThatâs it, keep goingâŠâ
You pushed for several seconds longer, but honestly to you, it felt like an eternity. You could have sworn the pressure was intensifying, feeling the weight so heavy in your pelvis. Quick, short grunts left your lips as you bore down again. Once the pains ebbed, you collapsed back against Sylus, crying in frustration, âNothing is happening!â
Sylus shushed you gently as the midwife reassured you that you were progressing well. You found it hard to believe. You panted softly, already feeling your energy drained. Sweat glistened down the sides of your face as you shut your eyes again, body tensing as the next pains arrived. You instinctively started pushing once more, feeling more progress being made this time. All around you, you heard hushed gasps and whispers, but you couldnât comprehend anything said as you concentrated on birthing your baby.
Without a word, Sylus guided your hand lower and you felt between your legs. You opened your eyes in shock. âSo much hair!â you exclaimed, laughing in spite of the agonizing pain you were feeling. Your fingers felt the little tufts of hair again. You couldnât believe it. This was your babyâs. Your baby was right there.
For this brief instance, you felt your energy renewed as you gave your everything and bore down again, your laboring grunts heard throughout the room. As you pushed, your hand found Sylusâ again and you squeezed it tightly, his presence giving you the strength to persevere through this arduous ordeal.
âJust a little more,â he said, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck. âYou are doing so well.â
Your efforts yielded slow result, feeling the baby emerging little by little. When the contractions subsided, you leaned back against Sylus for a brief reprieve, but instead of resting, you whined in frustration when you felt the baby receding a little and negating all of your progress just now.
Sylus whispered praises and encouragement soothingly to you as the midwives also assured you everything would be fine. You barely registered any of the voices, your body demanding your full attention again as you felt the next urge to push.
âOh, godsâŠâ
You panted softly, your eyes clenched shut as you put all of your focus into pushing out your baby again. You unconsciously squeezed Sylusâ hand, and then you let out a tired cry when you felt the babyâs head emerging fully. You trembled and sobbed, feeling a strange mixture of pain and relief in that moment. You could hear voices all around you encouraging you on, but the words meant nothing to you as you could only focus on the excruciating pain you were enduring.
âHere comes the shoulders, push, child, push!â the midwifeâs voice rang loud in the room. You reflexively shook your head, begging silently to any merciful goddess who would take pity on you and end this suffering now.
âPleaseâŠI canâtâŠ!â Your grip on Sylusâ hand tightened, your nails digging into his flesh. If he had felt any pain, he did not voice or show it. Instead, you felt his warm breath close to your ear, his soothing voice low and only audible to you.
âI know it hurts, my beloved, but you canât stop now.â Sylusâ voice pulled you back, and you leaned against him crying softly. He rubbed you up and down, whispering more words of comfort and encouragement. âYouâre so close, so close, a little more, my beloved, just a little moreâŠour child is almost hereâŠâ
Your breathing was ragged, but you tried to gather what little strength you had left. In spite of your exhaustion, your body was already acting on instinct, already pushing again and you groaned lowly, feeling like you were being spread more and more, feeling each shoulder painfully coming out one at a time.
âHahâŠhahâŠSylusâŠahhâŠâ
âIâm here, Iâm here, I wonât leave you,â he whispered, his eyes darting rapidly from your face to his baby slowly emerging from you. He seemed to have stopped breathing as he watched, awestruck, as the baby was born.
You collapsed back against him, sobbing in relief.
Not too long afterwards, the room resounded with the loud cry of a newborn.
âItâs a boy,â the midwife declared after cutting the cord that connected you and your son. The baby was immediately cleaned and prepared to be swaddled.
Sylus stilled at the announcement, the reality of the situation slowly settling in. His face broke out into a wide smile as he looked down at you. âA son, we have a sonââ
The joy in the room was short-lived. Sylus was the first to notice you straining again, hearing your soft grunts and whines and seeing the pained look still on your face.
He was immediately tensed. âWhatâs wrong? Whatâs happening?â
You gritted your teeth and then let out another strangled cry. âIt still hurts!â You turned, burying your face against his chest again, sobbing. You couldnât even rest for a moment as you felt the now all too familiar urge to push. You gasped and panted against Sylusâ chest. It couldnât beâŠthis couldnât be happeningâŠyou had just given birth alreadyâŠthis couldnât be happeningâ
âAnother child!â One of the younger midwives cried out, alerting everyone else in the hut. There were shocked gasps and mutters as many crowded around while others continued to focus on your first baby who continued to cry.
âTwins,â another muttered, shocked, âShe was carrying twins.â
The eldest and most experienced of the group quickly accessed the situation, already barking out orders, âDonât just stand there! Hurry! Prepare for the second child!â
You did not know whether it was because of the first baby or not, but your second child was coming much quicker. You had no time to rest as your body was already straining again, already feeling that painful ring of fire as your next child started to emerge. Using the last of your strength, you leaned forward, chin to your chest and you bore down, your voice strained as you struggled. You rested for a few seconds and you continued again, and within just another three hard pushes, you delivered your second child, its cry almost immediately joining its older twin.
You fell back against Sylus once more, completely spent both physically but also emotionally. Sylus leaned down, his cheek nuzzling against yours, his praises plentiful.
âTwins?â he questioned, amazed. He kissed your cheek. âRest, my beloved, rest, I love you.â
Not too long afterwards, the afterbirths were expelled from your body. You were immediately tended to, cleaned and cared for and showered in endless praises for your remarkable feat. You smiled wearily, barely conscious and barely registering any of the competing voices in the room. You had never felt an exhaustion such as this one.
Perhaps it was because of the long, strenuous hours of labor, but it felt like you were drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to decipher what was a dream and what was reality. You were drained entirely, but you knew you could not sleep just yet. You didnât want to go to sleep right now. You wanted to see your babies. Babies.
You opened your eyes wearily, sensing an approaching figure. You looked up, confused, when the midwife handed you the two swaddled babies. You nervously took them both into your arms, staring down in amazement at the two small red-faced newborns fussing and cooing quietly.
You let out a choked gasp, your tears barely held back as you smiled down at your children. Your children. How surreal, how sweet, those words sounded to you.
âIdentical sons,â the matronly midwife said, praising you warmly, âYou did well, child.â
She helped you adjust to holding your babies, patiently explaining to you everything you needed to know. When one of your sons started crying again, she helped guide both babies to your nipples, and you gasped softly at feeling both of your sons latching on and suckling hungrily for their first meal. You could feel your milk flowing, entering hungry little mouths. You half-laughed and half-sobbed, unable to even comprehend fully the current surreal situation.
You felt so overwhelmed. You had given birth to not one, but two babies, and they were identical boys. You were now a mother to identical twin boys. You just could not seem to register that thought no matter how many times you repeated it in your head. You looked up at Sylus, and he smiled back just as helplessly, also unable to wrap his head around the current situation.
âThank you,â he murmured instead, kissing your lips. He smiled tenderly as you gazed at him wonderstruck. âMy beloved bride, you have given me not one but two sons.â He kissed you more deeply, drawing out your soft moans. He kept you in his warm, protective embrace for just a few minutes longer as the midwives cleaned the room and prepared for their leave.
He peered down at you and his children, his smile unwavering. For Sylus, there was no greater treasure in the world than the three treasures he now held in his arms. For you and for his children, Sylus was willing to face Heaven and Hellâs wrath, to do everything in his power to keep his beloved family safe and protected.
As he watched you nursed his children, his hand reached up, his finger gingerly stroking one of the twinsâ cheek. The babyâs skin felt so soft and smooth and delicate. He was enthralled that these two beautiful little babies came from you, that you had went through such an arduous trial to bring his children into the world, and now you cradled them protectively against your breasts, letting them suckled the precious milk your body was providing for the newborns.
He had never seen such beauty and strength as this, and so it seemed the only thing he could do was willingly let himself fall deeper and deeper in love with you, his beloved.
In the center of the hut, there was a firepit. Flames danced within the space, warming the quaint home.
It had been a few hours since you had given birth, and after making sure both you and the babies were taken care of, everyone had left, including Sylus, leaving you alone with just your sons.
It was still so dark outside. Dawn would not break for a few more hours, so you wondered absently where your husband could have gone this late in the night. You did not idle on those thoughts for too long, your attention focused entirely on the babies you had just birthed hours ago.
You sat up in bed, gazing in wonder at the two sleeping babies sharing the wicker bassinet, still in awe that these two little ones came from your body, conceived from the love between you and Sylus. You smiled as you watched your babies sleep, unable to ignore that they were indeed bigger than most babies born in the village, but not so drastically as many had you fearing for months. You chuckled to yourself, unable to fully fathom how these two babies were inside you just this morning, and now they were asleep right next to you.
One of the twins started hiccupping, breaking you out of your spell. Instinctively, you took him into your arms, carefully holding him over your shoulder. You gently patted his small back, softly comforting your son with soothing words.
âMotherhood looks lovely on you.â
You looked up when you heard Sylusâ voice as he entered the hut covered in a light dusting of freshly-fallen snow. You noticed he was carrying a basket of food in one hand and an extra bassinet in the other. There was also a fur blanket strewn over his shoulder. You raised a brow in confusion, and he chuckled in response.
âEveryoneâs been so kind,â he explained as he set everything where they needed to be. He adjusted the second bassinet next to the first one before turning to face you. You handed him the baby in your arms, watching as he carefully placed the infant in his own bassinet.
Almost immediately, both babies started fussing and crying softly. You laughed quietly as you leaned in closer to Sylus, your arms wrapped around his. âThey have never slept away from one another before,â you remarked, finding the situation heartwarming.
Sylus nodded, smiling softly. He helped you back into bed to rest before he knelt down on the ground between the two bassinets. He lightly rocked both bassinets at the same time, pleased when his sons calmed down, the gentle motion lulling them back to sleep.
As you lay on your side, watching this sweet scene, you felt so much love and joy in your heart. You yawned softly, and at Sylusâ gentle urging, you allowed yourself to succumb to sleep as well.
When you opened your eyes again a few hours later, you saw the two newborns tucked in Sylusâ arms as he cradled and rocked them while pacing around the hut. His deep, gentle humming was joined only by the warm crackling fire in the hut and the soft whistling winter wind outside.
You felt at peace, as if the world had quieted down. This moment in time felt so surreal, like a sweet dream you never wished to wake up from.
âI love you,â you found yourself saying sleepily, alerting Sylus.
He smiled back and walked over, settling down in bed next to you. You sat up, taking one of the babies from Sylus. You leaned closer to him, gentle eyes flitting back and forth between the two identical babies you both held with so much love and adoration.
Warmer than the fire, you heard Sylusâ gentle murmur, âI love you, too, my beloved.â
The years had rolled by on the grassland, life remaining, more or less, unchanged. This era of prosperity continued with the village now under Sylusâ leadership. You had seen six springs passed since your marriage to Sylus, and from this union, you two were blessed again and again and again.
The warriors are home! came the familiar words from the village and carried all the way down to the field where the sheep grazed.
âMother, Mother, Father is home! Father is home!â your children ran by you barefooted, many already leaving you behind to rush to the village entrance.
Your twins helped you to your feet, and your hand settled on the large, round bump you carried once more. Another child was on the way. Your seventh.
Swaddled and resting on your back was your sixth, barely ten months old. He cooed happily, seemingly sensing his older siblingsâ excitement. You smiled, always delighting in hearing your childrenâs sweet laughter.
You carefully made your way back to the village, listening fondly as your twins chatted and laughed. They were the spitting image of their father from head to toes, and while they inherited little of your physical appearance, they gained many of your mannerisms and quirks instead.
When you and the twins finally arrived at the village square, a crowd had already formed. After months apart, families were reunited again. This familiar scene had played out so many times before in the past, and yet you never tired of it. As always, there would be a celebration, for the glory and victories these brave men have brought home, but more importantly, to celebrate families reuniting once more.
As you and the twins treaded through the dense crowd, you saw your beloved husband towering in the center. Sylus already had his youngest daughterâbarely threeâsitting on his shoulders, her little legs swung over his shoulders and her small hands tugging at his hair happily. Your other daughter and son danced circles around their father asking for their turn to be held by him. You laughed softly as you witnessed Sylusâ overjoyed but helpless expression as he tried to accommodate his children.
At the sound of your familiar laughter, Sylus looked up. Seeing your approaching figure, his crimson eyes lit up with joy. He carefully set his daughter down to join her siblings. The twins immediately left your side and ran to their father cheering and already showering him with questions and praises. He greeted his sons affectionately, kneeling down to embrace all of his children and accept their kisses.
Your youngest son was now held in your arms, balanced on your hip as you stood in your place. You gazed at Sylus with the same love and joy as the spring when you had married him. Sylus slowly stood up, sighing blissfully as he took in the sight of you round and heavy again with his child.
âIâm home,â he said the familiar words warmly, and your heart swelled with happiness and love.
âWelcome home,â you responded fondly, smiling as he crossed the distance with just a few short strides. He gathered you into his arms, enveloping you in a familiar warmth and scent only he possessed. You sighed happily against him, only broken out of your daze when you heard your youngest son giggling. He squirmed against you as he held his little arms out for his father. You smiled as Sylus took the baby boy from you, easily holding him in one arm.
Beneath the azure sky, in his loving embrace, you remembered a story Sylus had once told, a memory that was yet to come. The sweet bell-like laughter of your children was carried on the playful wind across the luscious grassland. Surely this moment must be it, you thought, unable to fathom a greater happiness than this.
Sylus knelt down before you, his lips touching your growing belly fondly, his touch gentle and loving.
âMy beloved.â
You looked down lovingly at your husband, your heart beating quietly for him as he gently guided your youngest sonâs hand to your round belly. He spoke softly to the baby boy, his voice sweet and tender. Sylus looked up, the depths of his love for you reflected in his crimson eyes.
In this moment, you also recalled the elders had long ago told tales of a paradise after life, but you wondered how there could be a greater heaven than the one on the grassland with your loverâyour destined half.
Sylus.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace fanfiction#love and deepspace x reader#sylus x reader#lnds fanfics#sylus smut#x â fanfics#me realizing this is the second sylus fic where you guys planted a seed in my head#and it turned into a 10k+ word fic#am i#am i just#that easy to coerce???#is the sylus chokehold that bad?????#(yes)#(but thatâs ok)#(my soft sylus agenda will live on heck yeah)#(ok bye thank you for reading stay hydrated you lovely lovely ppl <3)
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Dating Tara having a scary dog HCs
Pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: You didnât expect your girlfriend to act like that around your dog, but it's still pretty funny though.
Word count: 1,4k.
Content: cursing, fluff, tara being dramatic and a caos gremlin, author never had a dog, mentions of scream V.
Note: Still don't think I'm really good at hcs but I had fun writing these!
English is not my first language.
- Tara could admit that she didnât know much about you when you first started to go out, which probably would have caused Sam to have a meltdown if sheâd found out about it, but, well, making impulsive decisions was her specialty.
- One of the things Tara had come to learn about you â details, mere details â was that you had a dog, after hearing you mention it once or twice.
- Tara, who had never had a pet before, was immediately excited with the prospect of meeting and having one in her life, wondering what it would be like.
- You hadnât shown her any pictures, and on your Instagram there were a surprising amount of different dogs for her to be sure which one was yours, so Tara tried to guess. Would it be a puppy, happy and gangly? Or even an older, relaxed and well-behaved one, a childhood dog maybe? Would make a good cuddle buddy.
(Whichever one it was, she hoped it to be a short-haired; her asthma and allergies would be very grateful.)
- What she hadnât imagined, however, was to come across her girlfriend smiling and waving brightly, with a damn hound on a leash on what should have been a perfectly romantic and uneventful date.
âWhat is that?â
âHi, baby!â you greet, oblivious to her incredulous and apprehensive tone, âThatâs Cujo.â
âCujo,â she echoed, hesitantly, âLike⊠the rabid, murderous dog from the movie?â
âNo, not the movie, the book,â you corrected. âDonât worry, Tar, sheâs a sweetie.â
âYour Cerberus is a she?â
âItâs just a doberman, babe.â
Great.
- Taraâs definitely scared of your dog at first, but she won't admit it. She's faced crazy killers before, for God's sake! A little pet was nothing.
- You know she's scared from the start. It's honestly kind of funny how she tries to act all brave, especially since you know Cujo wouldn't hurt a fly if she could (and she could), so you do your best to make her relax.
- Trying to get her used to it at first by asking if she'd like to hold the leash on walks, even though she always refuses it, âIf it decides to start running I might get dragged across town until I fall down some drain. Would you dare do that to your poor asthmatic girlfriend?â
- Trying to avoid situations where your dog is involved doesn't work for long, though, it lives with you, after all â duh, Tara, really? â and your house is the only place you two can have some privacy without Sam hovering like a hawk all the time, so she has to get over it, like, urgently.
She stops you at the door the first time she comes over:
âSo, is there any more⊠unexpected pets I should know about?â
You shrug, âI have some sea monkeys too.â
- Sheâs completely dramatic about it at first, as she always is when things donât go her way. But itâs endearing, and itâs one of the reasons you fell in love with her anyway.
- So⊠Tara, who has staring contests with your dog every time she comes over for the night or to just hang out, because she canât stop squinting suspiciously every time she gets too close to the furry form you idolize so much.
- Tara, who gets upset and sullen when youâre gonna cuddle and the dog is faster, taking up your entire lap, the place she should be.
âYou can just lay or rest on her, baby, I swear she won't bite.â
âNo freaking way! Here, just hold me closer.â
Well, she swears that your dog would have laughed at her if she could.
- Tara, who's sure your dog has something against her and chases her around for the pure pleasure of it, no matter how much you argue about projecting, dark eyes making her jump in fright whenever they're in the same room.
- Tara, who huffs and whines when you go to sleep and the dog follows you, sprawling at your feet in the bed like she's its owner.
âOh man, even here?â
âTar, she's sleeping. It's a dog, it's not planning something against you.â
âShe's threatening me on purpose!â
âShe probably knows that you dislike her, you know, it's pretty obvious.â
âWhatever, I'm not apologizing to a dog.â
- Tara, who actually finds it pretty comfortable sleeping next to the furball, who keeps the bed less lonely and stops the heat from escaping when you get up early to make breakfast.
- Tara, who warms up and attaches quickly afterward, even if she doesn't want to admit it out of sheer stubbornness.
âAwn, I see you guys are getting along. You're petting her now! Thatâs so great, honey!â
âI'm not! I'm just checking to make sure she didn't bring any dirt from the park earlier.â
- Tara, who turns into an absolute menace once she and your dog bond and you honestly don't know if that's a good thing or not, but it's chaotic anyway.
- Tara, who struts around, holding on to the leash to save her life and still managing to look completely smug like a damn small gangster, laughing at those who stray from their path or get scared by the sudden barking.
âHa, look at them! Scared of such a little pup, losers.â
âIf she ever gets up she'd be literally bigger than you, Tar,â you sigh, âAnd you acted just like them too.â
âLiar! All lies!â
- Tara, who spends her money on thousands of clothes and accessories that she thinks would look good on the dog, even though your pet already has a lot. Most of them are silly costumes from movies she likes, and one day you come home to find your dog on the couch wearing a cheap Michael Myers costume and you can barely breathe from laughing when she comes running up to greet you by the door.
- You definitely notice your dog wearing a big colorful bow that conveniently matches your girlfriendâs shirt and teases her shamelessly. All you get is a âshe looks like a princess, leave her be!â
- She calls the dog by cute pet names and talks in a baby voice â which she denies to death â when she thinks no one is listening. Sometimes you even get confused about who the âhi baby!â is for when she walks through the room.
- You're a little jealous when she prefers to snuggle with your dog instead of you, but you end up finding it so adorable that the problem is solved by cuddling them both together and that way everyoneâs happy and content.
- Sam almost has a heart attack the first time she sees Tara with the dog, as do Chad and Ethan; Mindyâs a little hesitant and Anikaâs the only one genuinely excited and happy about everything, wanting to pet it as soon as she sees her lying on the carpet.
- With that, Tara also defends your dog from anyone who dares to open their mouth and say something bad about her, whether they're your friends or the Karens you meet when you're out together (you have to stop her from throwing hands with them occasionally).
- Teaches the dog to purposely bark to scare Ethan every time he says something stupid and inappropriate and you're left wondering when the hell she had time to do that without you knowing, completely ignoring your claims of 'being a bad influence.'
- Protects the dog from absolutely any of your scolding, no matter what the reason, dramatically covering its ears and looking personally offended by your complaints. You can never stay mad for long with the sight of your girlfriend trying to cover up a dog who's clearly more intimidating than her and literal puppy eyes staring at you with intensity, letting go even if your couch or plants have been destroyed.
- You end up with a happy little family before you finish college without even realizing it, which ends up being the best thing that ever happened to you.
- Tara's favorite part of all of this is the slow and warm mornings when you two don't have to be anywhere and can sleep in, feeling your arm around her waist and your dog curled up between you â under the covers too because it got cold during the night â when she can sigh contentedly and enjoy what you have without any more fears about the future.
âYou know, remembering how scared you were of Cujo in the beginning, I never would have expected it to end up like this.â
âThat name still doesn't fit,â she says stubbornly, âAnd Iâve never been scared of our dog, I just wasnât a pet person.â
âOur dog?â
âOh, shut it.â
She would never admit it anyway.
- Tara could admit, though, that you were right: your dog really is a sweetie.
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#tara carpenter fluff#tara carpenter#scream#scream x reader#scream franchise#tara carpenter headcanons#jenna ortega#jenna marie ortega#scream vi#tara carpenter x fem!reader#denwrites
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Buck sat at the kitchen island with his chin resting on his hand, watching Tommy pour ingredients into a bowl. It's been a week since he finally ended his keto diet and Tommy wanted to bake him a cakeâ to make up for not getting cake at the medal ceremony back then he said. Buck knew it was really Tommy wanting him try his baking for the first time.
As Tommy began mixing what was in the bowlâand if Buck paid extra attention to the way his arms moved and his hand gripped the spoon that was no ones business but his ownâBuck blurted out the question that had been on his mind before Tommy became distracting. "What's five things you like about me?"
Tommy looked at him, eyebrow raised and never pausing his mixing. "Your eyes, smile, personality, the way you store all these facts in your brain, and your big heart."
Buck ducked his head slightly with a blush, a smile across his face. "Okay, what are four things I like?"
"Documentaries, Bobby's barbecues because everyone you love is there, cooking, when we go to the shelter and Lainey let's you go out into the yard to play with all the dogs."
"Three things I look good in?" Buck asked with a grin, leaning forward on his arms now.
"Your turnouts, sweatsâ" Tommy gave him a cheeky grin and Buck flushed thinking of the first time Tommy saw him in them, "And my arms." He finished with a wink, causing a goofy smile to form on Buck's face. That was his favorite place to be.
"What are two things I do a lot and don't notice?"
"Here can you finish mixing this while I get the pan and oven ready?" Tommy asked, handing him the bowl. Buck didn't hesitate to listen, mixing as he responded. "You use your hands a lot, and you steal the covers every night-"
"No I don't!"
"Oh you do, but it means I just have to cuddle you." Tommy teased, pulling a pan out from one of the cabinets.
Buck grumbled a you should be anyway under his breath making Tommy fondly roll his eyes before continuing. "What's one thing you would change about me?"
"Your last name."
Cake batter flew off the spoon and onto the surface of the island. Buck froze, mouth hanging open staring at Tommy who looked casual smiling at Buck like those three words didn't leave his mouth with no hesitation.
"Wh-" Buck swallowed, "What?"
Tommy slid the bowl away from him and leaned close. "I'm not picky on which way, hyphenate with whichever name first, drop Buckley and be Kinard, doesn't matter to me."
"You- you want to marry me?" Buck said sounding breathless, looking stunned but in wonder at the same time.
Tommy put two fingers under his chin, leaning closer to kiss him. "Evan, I'd fly us to Vegas today and marry you."
"It's- It's only been six months-" Buck's lips lifted into a smile. "But...I'd marry you too."
+Alternate ending or bonus (your choice)
"Is that a ring?!" Chimney said so loudly when he greeted Buck and spotted the ring, that it seemed the whole firehouse was looking.
Buck smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, holding his hand out that Hen quickly grabbed to inspect. "Uh yeah...surprise? Tommy and I went to Vegas!"
"Buck!" Hen looked at him in shock, before her face turned into a smile and a laugh bubbled out. "How am I surprised but not at the same time?"
"Oh come on! I was supposed to be your best man!" Eddie scowled, but still leaned in for a hug, a big pat on Buck's back.
"We're going to have an actual ceremony later with everyone, you can be best man then!"
"Maddie is going to be pissed, if she wasn't still working her double shift to cover for Josh I'd tell you to call her immediately!"
"Especially because you're about to burst keeping it a secret already?" Hen looked Chimney over who was bouncing on the heels of his feet, he gave her a 'what do you think?' look but didn't respond.
"Uh actually...Maddie already knows." Buck said slowly, bracing himself just in case.
"What?!"
"She didn't actually have a shift..." He took out his phone, showing them a picture of them both in rented suits, and Maddie in a dress between them beaming with pride.
"Oh that is sneaky! I'm both offended and proud at the same time!" Chimney took out his phone and walked off without another word.
Hen offered a congratulations with a chuckle before following after her best friend who was on the phone arm waving like crazy. Eddie glanced over at Bobby and mumbled a 'we'll talk later' before heading towards the stairs. Buck looked at Bobby who hadn't said a word, anxiety growing.
"Bobby I-"
Buck cut off as Bobby pulled him into a hug. He sighed out in relief and returned the hug, Bobby squeezing him a little tighter before pulling away. "I'm proud of you kid, you've come a long way."
"I- I kind of expected someone to make a comment on how early it is for us-"
Bobby laughed. "Athena and I waited less time than you two did, I have no right to judge you on that." His gaze softened. "And anyone paying attention could see that what you two have is real, you're different with him in a way you've never been before Buck, and while I didn't see Tommy for years I can tell you've changed him for the better. Congratulations kid, but now you have some paperwork to take care of."
Buck groaned, shoulders slumping as he followed a laughing Bobby to his office.
But even that didn't stop the wide grin on his face when he wrote Kinard on the paperwork.
#bucktommy#evan buckley#tevan#tommy kinard#kinley#911 abc#I love the idea of them going to vegas and getting married tbh#mostly cause it could be so much fun#from a text conversation I saw on pinterest#911 fic
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So with everything we learned and saw in Episode 4 from Angel, Valentino, Charlie and Husk, hereâs a little theory on how the Hotel crew saving Angel from Valentino might play out. Particularly in how Huskâs status as a former Overlord may factor into things.
Because I have a hunch itâs actually going to be Husk, rather than Charlie who gets fed up first and goes out to make a real attempt at getting Angel away from Valentino, given everything we saw between Husk and Angel in this episode. Specifically, Husk aims to lure Valentino into gambling for Angelâs contract.
Now that raises the question of what exactly Husk could gamble with. I see two possibilities:
Option One, Husk full on bluffs Valentino that he still has substantial power as an Overlord and has been hiding it all this time, tempting him with more souls and power. And as weâve seen most notably in Episode 2, Val in kind of a massive fucking idiot, so I could see him actually falling for this. Essentially, Husk gambles with nothing, save his own soul, for a chance to save Angel.
Option Two, Husk actually gets his power BACK from Alastor. Specifically through fulfilling some mysterious, nebulous condition Alastor set up for him. It could even be that this is what sets up Husk to gamble Val for Angelâs freedom. Alastor returns Huskâs power as an Overlord because heâs curious as to what Husk will do with it now. Which we see, is putting it all on the line again for a chance to save Angel.
Whichever way we get to it, we find Husk in a high-stakes card game with Valentino. And of course, Husk does the classic trope of NOT telling his friends or even the guy heâs doing this for what heâs doing to âkeep them safeâ and all that. Of course, they do find out. Which will come into play laterâŠ
As for the all-important gamble; Husk actually does WIN legitimately against Valentino. However, because Valentino is⊠well, Valentino he welches on the deal and attacks Husk, and perhaps a recently arrived Angel as well.
Now in the event that Husk was bluffing Valentino the whole time and is actually helpless against a fully-powered Overlord, this would be when Alastor, from afar, actually returns Huskâs own power as an Overlord as some offhand, magnanimous whim. Which of course now allows Husk to actually fight back against Valentino.
What ensues is a full and proper fight between Husk/Angel and Valentino, with all the requisite emotional drama of Angel and Husk admitting their feelings for each other and all of Valentinoâs shittiness as a person coming out in force. Maybe like an mlm version of the Bees vs. Adam fight.
However, despite getting his power as an Overlord back, Husk ultimately turns out to not be as powerful as Valentino. Alternatively, perhaps he never gets his power back at all and we just skip to here from Husk winning the bet. Whichever way we get here, Husk and Angel are now at the non-existent mercy of Valentino.
Which is precisely when CHARLIE shows up.
And I imagine what ensues plays out in a flash. Like everyone is only just registering that Charlie has appeared when suddenly everything is on fire. We get only the briefest glimpses, perhaps only in silhouette, of the full-sized horns on Charlieâs head, the great leathery wings coming out of her back and the pitchfork in her hand before she has Valentino by the throat and the mothman starts BURNING, screaming in pain as he is consumed in hellfire.
Basically, I feel that after this episode we are going to see Husk be the one to step up first to try and save Angel from Valentino, given everything we saw between the pair this episode. But at the same time, I think the interactions between Charlie and Valentino, particularly Charlie starting to transform in rage, sets her up as the one whoâs going to ultimately put Val down. Specifically via giving us a glimpse at Charlieâs true power.
And I do say glimpse because I imagine the full and proper reveal of Charlieâs âDevil Formâ is almost certainly going to be saved for when sheâs forced to take on the likes of Adam and the Exorcists, the ones who have been set-up as proper antagonists to Charlie herself.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin theory#hazbin rambling#angel dust#hazbin husk#huskerdust#husk#hazbin valentino#charlie morningstar#devil!charlie#how valentino dies a horrible painful death theory
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What Will Your Future Child Love About You?
- a pick a card.
one two three
explanation.
I always see people say that there are many forms of love, not just romantic. Which, they are correct in. Yet, they still have a narrow view on it and refer to friendship as an example, or if they are big hearted their pet⊠Which is completely fine, I just felt a desire to create a pick a card thatâs focused on love but none of those things. I never saw a pick a card with this topic before, neither on youtube or on tumblr. Could just be me though. Felt like making it anyway. If you donât want children, thatâs cool, I chose this topic because I would like to be a mother one day. This reading also applies to the first child you will have, or you know, the next one.
disclaimer.
Remember to take things with a grain of salt, and only take what resonates. Not because I donât trust my skills, but because several people read pacs, whatâs not meant for you could mean the world for someone else. Besides, this is for entertainment and the energy surrounding you or the overall situation could change any second. Life is unpredictable.
how to pick your pile.
There is always several ways to pick a pile, and sometimes maybe multiple call for us. You can pick the one that you canât take your eyes off, even if thereâs another picture you might find prettier. You can ask your guides to guide you in choosing a pile, or go with the old regular closing your eyes and picking whichever one your eyes land on. I usually do that too.
proof read?
Unfortunately no. Please know that I would never put anything in my PAC with harmful intentions towards you or anybody else.
one
You, my dear pile one will be so loved for so many reasons! Itâs truly incredible. Even though you might not think that you will be an awesome parent - maybe now, maybe in the future -, trust me, your child will think otherwise! First of all, they will have this adoration towards you staying calm even in stressful situations and knowing how to handle things, how to take care of them and provide a solution and smooth things out. This is will make them feel safe next to you, and with time calm down as they see that you yourself are calm too. Of course, you wouldnât always be calm, but you wouldnât show even when you are scared so there is someone grounded in the situation that can take charge even if just on an emotional level. - I am saying this because your spouse will help you out when things are hard, not because you arenât capable. -
Another thing here seems to be that you will respect their privacy and love life, as long as they are safe you will let them love safely and explore their interests as much as they need to in order to be happy. You let them be independent all while allowing them to rely on you and come to you when they need it. They know that this isnât something everyone has, so they are all the more grateful to have someone like you as their parent. You are not invasive, you are not judgmental but so full of love, acceptance and understanding towards them. Maybe because you had a childhood where you werenât happy, so you will do your best to give them everything good that you couldnât get to have. Full of love, and they will remember it for the rest of their life.
đ nine of swords, two of cups reversed, four of cups, page of swords reversed, queen of cups side ways, knight of swords side ways - facing the other way -, three of wands
confirmation.
high school musical , adele , nelly - dilemma , âi will love you till the day that I die , someone in this pile had to give up on their dream to be a singer/musical artist, hamilton, âvanessa open the door pleaseâ, â (âŠ)running out of timeâ , 777 , city girl , virgo - do you have tummy issues? - , rihanna & eminem / asap rocky , pink nails but w a lot of charms , diverse pile
two
Alright, so I will be honest with you. Your next child will have some developmental issues, but not necessarily life threatening ones. - neither in a sense of d*ath or having trouble living on their own. they will just need a bit of help. - While asking your questions I stuttered a lot despite being calm, so I honestly think your child will have speech issues. Maybe potentially this could be genetic, or anything of the sort.. They will love you because even if you will have a hard time, where your mental health or emotional state will be tested you will never ever in your life will give them a hard time for whatever it is that they are struggling with. You will be loving, kind, gentle and patient with them. Instead of forcing them to learn in a pace which will stress them out you will be the one to learn how to understand what works best for them, and do that. They will really appreciate this. Honestly, regardless of whatever this issue is, I feel sorry because they have such a sensitive heart. Even if they shouldnât, there is just some things they take to the heart and might feel like they are the problem even though they didnât do anything. Such a pure child, the sort thatâs very well behaved, kind to adults and friendly to their peers.. so these thoughts really could just come from overhearing and misinterpreting conversations or perhaps just overthinking. The funny thing is, I do think you would be their safe haven because they know you would never judge them no matter what heartbreak they are going through. Itâs like they canât imagine a life without you.
Now, I donât mean to be an asshole or scare anyone unnecessarily. I am not a doctor and I will never be, but the ace of cups reversed here can represent miscarriages or pregnancy complications. So please if you are a woman look after your health. I donât mean to scare you bc at the end of the day this is a collective general reading and we donât know each other, but itâs always nice to look after your health regardless.
On a MUCH brighter note though, they will truly appreciate whenever you support their interests. They might be a book worm, so if this is something you two have in common they could happily share their interests with you! They will do it regardless, but your baby would get so excited if you show interest in them.
You will also stand next to them and support them no matter what they go through in life, let that be good or bad, which is something they will really appreciate.
đ six of pentacles reversed, knight of pentacles, four of wands, ace of cups reversed, the heirophant, the high priestess, seven of pentacles
confirmation.
twilight , renesme , butterflies , cross necklace , bbc , orange hair and freckles - this is for someone who will have a little boy - , ocean green eyes , what was I made for - Billie Eilish , 5sos , âi bet on losing dogsâ , mother mary , flashing lights , genetic , obsession with beats / drums ? - not for the child, a reader in this pile -
three
Your child, will sometimes give you headaches.. but they will really love you. If you have ever seen modern family then they sort of remind me of Hailey in the earlier seasons. Bratty, picks fights, doesnât always understand where her mom is coming from but sees all the hard work that she does and appreciates and loves her mother - both parents really - quite deeply. Not to say I am calling your child bratty, or a brat. Thatâs not where I am going with this, rather your guides pulled towards letting you know this first so you donât misunderstand the rest of the reading.
They will, first of all, love that you will give them everything that you can. Yâall will be pretty well off. Not only will you guys be able to live comfortably but they will have a few unnecessary things that they donât even need or probably forget about in a few years after getting it. They are not ungrateful, rather the opposite. They know this is a privilege, they donât look down on those less fortunate than you guys, they are just grateful that they have a parent that cares about them so much they would give them everything they ask for, even if things arenât always the brightest. You also, always, without any question get them out of any trouble or uncomfortable situation and defend them. Wonât matter if they are in the wrong or not, thatâs your baby and you will stand by them!
They also love to travel with you! They enjoy your company a lot and to make memories, they always look forward to exploring the world with you. They might also follow you around like a little duckling, even if you only go to the store or to do some super boring errands. Honestly, your kid is an extrovert and super clingy. In a cute way though for sure.
Your dynamic with them reminds me of a tiktok I saw months back, where the teenage kid was piggy back riding the mom and she was annoyed as she recorded saying âlook what I have to deal withâ, but in reality she truly just appreciated the love. Such an easy going and regular pile, love that for yâall.
đ nine of pentacles, seven of pentacles, the hermit reversed, knight of swords, four of wands, six of swords, three of wands
confirmation.
thrift shop - macklemore , old house in the balkans/europe in summer - ?? so specific, did you travel back to your home country in summer or planned to? - , moonlight , witch craft , snake , âi know a place we can escape â , those fluffy slippers that are like plushies & soft pjs , airplanes , power wires , lime - & cheetos ?? -
#pick a card#pick a pile#tarot#tarotblr#astro community#astroblr#free tarot#pick a deck#pick a picture#pick an image#tarot divination#tarot reading#tarotcommunity#tarot community#tarot cards#didnât proof read sorry yâall
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can i get one ticket for here for the boos!! starring luke castellan with a pretzel! and maybe a lil spice on that pretzel :O also, i love your fics so much i always re-read them because of how good they are <333
devil inside
[STARRING: LUKE CASTELLAN x reader ; âDonât. Move.â] wc: 1k warnings: written with aphrodite reader in mind, but not officially stated; anon asked for lil spice so this came out veeeerrryyy suggestive? MDNI for non-descriptive fondling/fingering. yandere!luke. i say the word cum onceâdo what yâall will with that. implied minor character death, mentions of blood, alcohol, manipulation; title from inxs song, iâm tryna keep the titles spooky hehe. oh and i hit 2k followers while writing this last night! thank you thank youuu
monster mash-terlist
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Luke Castellan has always been your protector and best friend.Â
A two-in-one deal that you couldnât help but thank the gods for every time you throw your offerings into the hearth at mealtimes. He always has your best interest in mind, is always devoted to taking care of you, and puts you first over anyoneâso who else would you depend on to walk you home from a beach party?
Bad things happen around here at Camp Half-Blood, especially after dark, if weâre being honest. It would only be sufficient to have campâs best hero be your escort back to your cabin. Youâre giggling like a fool as Luke half-carries you through the dirt pathway toward home, purple slippers tucked in his back pocket and his thumb grazing the sliver of skin that peeks out above your daisy dukes.Â
It would be wrong of him to leave you like this. Truly, what type of best friend would he be if he did? He knows you have admirersâyouâre beautiful, for one. And itâs in your nature to be desired by all, though he supposes even without your blood being mixed with ichor that everyone would still look at you the way they do. And it angers him more than it should, a slow bubbling in his stomach that boils through to the surface whenever anyone leers at you or ogles your form as something they hope to have, or worseâconquer. Vincent from Cabin 4 was bold enough to try, growing flowers at will and weaving them into your hair, touching you and decorating youâmaking it known to the others that he got close enough to something sacred. By the time Luke got to the party tonight, the son of Demeter had a smile that would make anyone think heâd won the lotto.
Well, Vincent wonât make that mistake again. Luke made sure of it.
Tonight alone was evidence enough that no one takes what belongs to him. But Luke has more pressing problems at hand as he leads you further away from the crowd, like how you keep pressing your soft hands into the growing bulge of his cargo shorts, a sly grin illuminating your face and a simple, âOopsie!â each time you do it. The both of you know what youâre blatantly hinting at after the third pass, and heâd be an idiot to ignore the way your arms wrap around his neck, knees buckling as you beg him to divert your journey towards the lakeâwhichever way that may be; youâre drunk off cheap vodka and heâs drunk off the smell of sweat and salt on your skin.
You feel like youâre flying, squealing like Lukeâs tickling you as he carries you in his arms. Thereâs something in him that loves the way you pretend to resist, like how prey fall limp in a predatorâs hold just in case they might lose interestâbut how could he? Youâre mouthing at his collarbone, tongue tracing out the letters of your name and your body pliant under his grasp. His skin is impermanently marked where no one can see, yet heâs yours either way, especially when you tease him like this, cooing, âLuke, come onnnnâŠ.â
âShhhâŠsilly girl, theyâll hear you.â
The boy is grinning and has his hands wrapped under your armpits; in your drunken haze, you think it might be the wind or his long fingers caressing the underwire of your bra as he sets you down against him, back to his chest and legs dipping in the warm waters of Canoe Lake. You lean into him nonetheless, pulling your best friend in with a cute pout until heâs putty in your hands. Heâd do anything for you. And right now, youâre hyperaware of that.
âStopâŠdonât move,â he breathes, eyes fluttering as you wiggle against his lap and wrap his arms tighter around you, engulfing your frame from any stragglers that might be heading back from the bonfire. But Luke made sure youâd be alone tonight, your cheek against his as you both observe how the moon reflects the water. Your face is warm against his and he feels the imprint of your smile taking form by how it feels against his jaw, âMâjust playing Lu. You know that, right?â
Clenching his jaw he smiles stiffly at you, and he silently thanks the gods youâre too drunk to notice his disappointment. He knows you love thisâreveling in any attention you give him, drunk kisses in the moonlight and wandering hands doing very unfriendly things that he wishes youâd actually want to talk to him about in the morning. But when youâre not with him, your attention is elsewhereâpreening over being treated like the ultimate prize. He was just easy access for you. And you still wonât think it means anything.
So as a typical son of Hermes, he takes matters into his own hands, literally taking you, even if youâre not his. Itâs all the same to him, really, and youâre the one pushing his palms into the cotton cups of your bra. Youâre using him because heâs there, and whatever this is will have to do for now.
âGotta stay quiet fâmeâŠstay still, okay?â
Luke unzips your shorts, tracing slow circles into your sodden underwear as you bite down on your bottom lip and look at him all needy. It almost looks like desire, but he wants you to mean it. He needs to make sure youâre devoted to him tooânot just when you spread your legs and moan his name into the quiet of the night.
Being desired might be your domain, but deception is his. By morning, theyâll find Vincent's body floating in the very lake that your legs are writhing in. While youâre busy with the feeling of his fingers delving in and out of your warmth, he plans on how to get you to cum hard enough so that your eyes stay closed and ignore the smaller details, like the smell of blood on the rocks, and the Demeter boyâs flowers heâs been plucking out of your hair since you started your rendezvousâdrifting back towards the still-warm body of their owner.
Youâll see how much you mean to him. Heâs made sure of it.
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ma1dita's monster mash is open for requests until 10/12 :)
#ma1dita's monster mash đžàŸàœČ#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan smut#pjo x reader#kinktober#made by ma1dita â„ïž#luke castellan fanfic
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hi! i saw you were looking for some eddie requests for your summer fic fest and i have a wee lightbulb
friends to lovers pool day with eddie where a) heâs never seen the reader in a swimsuit before and his head is short circuiting and b) rhey apply each otherâs sunscreen and theyâre all blushy and UGH
thank you for the request angel :D â you and eddie have trouble pretending you aren't in love with each other while at a beach day with the gang (friends to lovers, grumpy!eddie, grumpy!reader-ish | 1.6k)
bug's summer fic fest (â êâ áŽâ êâ )
The white sand is warm and heavy on Eddieâs feet. He buries them beneath the soft granules until his ankles are covered â until the fine grains, now heated by the merciless summer sun, start to burn his pale, delicate skin. It hurts less than how much he misses you, anyway.Â
Ten minutes gone, and it feels like an entire lifetime has passed without you. Eddieâs left grieving about it, like a gloomy stormcloud beneath a very blue sky. His soft features are screwed into a very boyish pout that will likely stain his face the rest of the day. Or until you coddle him, whichever comes first.
âJesusâ Did you guys get lost on the way to the room or somethinâ?â Steve Harrington chuckles from where he sits a few longue chairs down, dark eyes peeking over the tops of his darker sunglasses.Â
Eddieâs head whips over his shoulder to follow his gaze. His heart swells into his throat at the sight of you.
You and Robin walk side by side, kicking up grains of white sand as you go, and looking like total opposites. The latterâs lean, freckled figure is adorned with a pair of jean shorts that go down to her knees and a plain black sports bra instead of a real bikini.Â
Your sunkissed skin, meanwhile, clashes just perfectly with the pretty white two-piece you wear â patterned with an array of fruits and flowers. Peaches and oranges and strawberries. Daisies and hydrangeas and lavenders. The cups are a size too small for your breasts. The bottoms sit high up on your waist to display the expanse of your plush thighs.
Eddie forgets how to breathe.
âWe got lost on the way to the gift shop, actually,â you quip when youâre in earshot again, squinting one eye to block the sun.
âYeah,â Robin grouses. ââCause you forgot to pack the sunscreen, Stevie.â
The boyâs scruffy face screws into a cartoonish look of offense. âYou said you were bringing it!â he argues, gesturing to you with a wild hand.
âNoâ I said I was bringing everything else and that your one job was to remember the sunscreen.â
Steve settles back into his seat then â likely with the acknowledgment that he had, in fact, forgotten the only thing he was supposed to do. âOhâŠâ he grimaces sheepishly. âSorryâŠâ
âItâs okay,â you sigh.
âYou owe me seven dollars, though,â Robin monotones, then turns suddenly away. Her chopped locks swish around her shoulders as she squints at the water. âHere, Nance! Catch!â she shouts. The rest of you flinch at the volume of her voice.
The brunette girl looks over her shoulder from where she wades in the water with Jonathan (whoâs still getting over his fear of open water, it seems, as he grips onto the girlâs hand for dear life.) Her sharp features pinch in a distant look of confusion. âWhat?!â she shouts back, tucking a rogue curl behind her ear when it billows in her face.
Robin opts to throw her the bottle of sunscreen, even though her eyesightâs almost as bad as her hand-eye coordination. The thing lands several feet away from its intended recipient â momentarily succumbed to the tides until Jonathan retrieves it from underwater.
In the split second of following silence, you turn to look at Eddie, whoâs been uncharacteristically silent since you walked up. His face is all screwed like heâs pouting as his chocolate gaze darts up and down your form.Â
âWhatâs wrong with you?â you ask him, laughing.
His eyes make one more pass over your body â savoring the sight of your bare thighs and tummy and chest â âcause heâs never seen so much of you before. âDid you walk all the way to the gift shop like that?â he deadpans.
You bounce a sunkissed shoulder in a lazy shrug. âYeah?â
ââŠYou didnât break any necks on the way back, did you?â he teases, peering at you beneath his long lashes in a playfully solemn look.
Your chest warms with something more sparkling than a burn from the sun. You roll your eyes and avert your gaze to the bottle of sunblock in your fist. âShut up and turn around,â you grumble.
Eddie watches you squeeze a dollop of lotion onto your palm and protests, âIâll put some on my tattoos, but thatâs it.â
âPutting sunscreen just on your tattoos doesnât count,â you monotone.
âI hate the feeling of it, thoughâŠâ he complains.
âDonât care,â you lilt with a sweet smile. âNow turn around.â
Eddie concedes with less arguing than youâd expect.Â
He huffs and turns his back to you, pretending to be annoyed to cover up how giddy he truly is. He knows thereâs something deeper in your badgering â people donât get so concerned about something as silly as sunscreen for people they donât give a shit about. The thought makes his heart beat a little faster.
You warm the lotion between your palms before spreading it over his shoulders. His pale skin, glowing softly red already, is spotted with sparse freckles you could count if you wanted to.
Eddie tenses under your touch. âItâs cold,â he whines.
âStop being a baby and move your hair outta the way.â
He grumbles like a storm cloud and parts his curls over his shoulders for you. Your hands trace the expanse of his back in a softer touch than he thought anyone was capable of. His skin buzzes accordingly.
You slap him hard on the arm a second alter. âThere. All done.â
âYour turn,â Eddie insists, perhaps a hair too quickly to be casual, as he rises from the creaking longue chair. He manhandles you in front of him with gentle hands. Your feet shuffle in the sand as you let him.
âFineâ But donât be annoying about it,â you scold with a stern look over your shoulder, passing the plastic bottle behind you.
Eddie scoffs. âNever once crossed my mind,â he promises, very playfully sincere, as he squirts a heavy glob of sunblock onto his palm.Â
The cream is cold and heavy as he presses into your skin. You grimace, âEddie!â
âWhat?â he exclaims in a similar tone, then smiles wickedly to himself. âItâs just sunscreenâ donât be such a baby.â
âThatâs gonna take forever to rub in. You know that, right?â
âMore fun for me,â he shrugs.
âPerv.â
âDonât act like you donât like it.â
He pokes you hard in the shoulder. You flash him a glare. âDonât be such a freak.â
Eddie laughs as he rubs the sunscreen into your skin â warm and sunkissed and supple under his guitar-string-calloused fingers. His thumbs dip at your lower back, and he has to remind himself to breathe. Itâs hard to, though, with his heart in his throat and all.Â
When the lotionâs sufficiently melted into your skin, he pats you twice on the waist. âThere. See? Easy peasy,â he teases. âIâd put some on your legs, too, but I donât wanna be too forward.â
You scoff and sit in the beach chair beside him, feet in the sand as you stay facing him. âI think I got it from here, Eds. Thanks, though.â
âFigured,â he sighs and settles into his own seat.Â
He tilts his chin to his shoulder, squeezing one eye shut from the sun. He watches you smooth sunblock over your thighs and tries to find something to say in the meantime. He struggles to make the words out, though, so he ends up just staring at you for several long moments.
âThatâs, uhâ That is a real cute bathing suit, though,â he ends up stammering. âJust, you know, by the way.â
You smear lotion over your calf with careful hands and peer at him beneath your lashes. âI figured that from your ogling,â you tease with a knowing smirk.
Eddie squirms. âWell⊠What about me, huh? I donât get a compliment?â
You sit up straight again, trying not to smile too wide. âWell, you look very cute today, Eddie Spaghetti,â you lilt in a mocking tone, âcause sincerityâs never been your strong suit.
âJust today?â he murmurs, flashing you a doe-eyed look of expectancy.
âMaybe a little extra today,â you squint.
Eddie huffs and looks away, crossing his bare arms over his chest. His boyish dramatics are obviously meant to make a point, but really, it just gives you a chance to ogle at his happy trail without him noticing.
âWell, I think youâre pretty all the time,â he pouts.
âShut up,â you laugh, cheeks warming.
âIâm serious!â he insists, then grows playfully sheepish. âBut obviously, you donât feel the same wayââ
âEds.â
ââObviously, I think youâre unconditionally perfect, and you think Iâm only perfect with conditions. Itâs fine.â
You blink at him for several long moments, glare unwavering. Eddie maintains his pout in spite. âYouâre just fishing for a compliment now, arenât you?â you deadpan.
Eddie thinks for a moment, then nods. âA little bit. Yeah,â he confesses.
You rise from your seat with a huff, shaking your head and rubbing excess sunblock between your palms. Your body looms beside him. He can smell the coconut-strawberry concoction on your sunkissed skin from here. The summer sun shines in rays behind your head like a halo.Â
âYouâre lucky youâre cute, Munson,â you sigh in a honeyed voice before bending at the waist to kiss his cheek.Â
Your lips just barely brush his glowing skin. Heâs left buzzing about it anyway when you walk away from him, hardly apologetic for the state youâve left him in.
He tries to come up with some stupid rebuttal to shout at you, but nothing comes to mind quick enough. His brain is full of nothing but static. Heâs got a frog in his throat, too. He couldnât say anything if he tried.
So, instead, Eddie watches silently as you saunter towards the tide with his wild head tilted to his shoulder, admiring the pretty view. (Heâs not talking about the water.)
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: summer fic fest '24
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đđđ !
ê° đđđđđźđ«đąđ§đ ê± billionaire!scaramouche x reader
ê° đđšđ§đđđ§đđŹ ê± nsfw content. reader gambling in a casino. rough sex. creampie. squirting. literally not proofread at all </3
ê° đŹđČđ§đšđ©đŹđąđŹ ê± betting dollars upon dollars with a billionaire. surely a good idea! ...right?
đđđđâ i'm gonna need you all to forgive me for being away for a whole month and coming back with a half-assed fic </3 it's been really tiring but i'm doing okay! (for now)... i really do hope that you all enjoy this even though my writing is honestly a bit rusty now that i haven't written a single sentence in the month's long "break" i took. i love you all, thank you so so much for 1.5k !! đ€ + thoughts on this new layout? :3
he was just another run-of-the-mill billionaire hanging out at casinos, local and private, for the ordinary people and the rich. you just so happen to be a regular at a specific casino and bar called the 'devil's temptation'. you spend a few hours of your day there every week or so, taking home stacks of your winnings home each time you go.
you were quite well known by the other regulars as a money magnet of sorts due to your high win rate whichever game you play, especially poker. your night was going on normally as per usual, well, until a man approached you.
"care for a game or two, pretty lady?"
ââ
"royal flush." yet another easy win on your part. you smiled at the man softly as you layed down your hand. he simply chuckles and looks at you lustfully, "huh, well played, indeed. though, why don't you say we make a... different type of bet this time?" he's being quite vague, you raise an eyebrow at him, "do you mind elaborating?"
a smirk from him as a reply, "accompany me to my mansion for the night, then you'll see." hesitant yet curious, you agreed. but how in hell would you have thought the said bet would end up with you getting fucked by the man named scaramouche?
â
â
"fuck...!" a loud whimper rips through your throat at the way he thrusted in and out of your sensitive cunt, you tried your hardest not to cum. after all, that was your deal, if he came first, he'd give up over a million dollars to you in the form of a cheque. but if you were to cum first, you'd be his, body, heart, and soul.
your upper body had already surrendered to him as your face was buried in a pillow, your torso flat on the fine silk sheets of his bed. your elbows failed in keeping you held up as he fucked you relentlesslyâhard, deep, and fast.
"c'me on, don't you wanna cum around my cock, baby?" he insists and brings his hand over to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing at its' softness and using his fingers to tease your nipples. you nod, to answer his question. but of course you didn't, you wanted to win the bet. who would refuse a large amount of money?
...but maybe you'll have another chance at such an offer.
your body couldn't take any more. you bit the soft pillow in front of you to muffle out the lewd moan you mewled out as your body shivered intensely at the euphoric feeling that hit you hard like a truck.
a dark chuckle from behind, "guess you're mine now, yeah?" he whispers before pulling out all the way, only to slam back inside to earn yet another symphony of moans straight from your drooling lips. his own mouth latches onto your neck to kiss, lick, and even bite at the flesh, leaving marks all over from the area of your neck to your shoulder.
his hand trails further down to pinch at your clit, causing you to scream out his name in extreme ecstasy, squirting as you completely dampen the sheetsâall the while he began to shoot ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of your pussy, reaching your womb.
not even a minute to calm down from your highs, he was already repositioning the two of you. firm grips from his hands laying you on your back and manhandling you right where he wanted you to be. a delicious mating press. it didn't take long for him to slide back into your warmth.
#âĄ. signed by yza â°Â°ïœĄâ#âĄ. dearest kuni â°Â°ïœĄâ#âĄ. late night thoughts â°Â°ïœĄâ#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x y/n#genshin smut#genshin x reader#fem!reader
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rating: explicit 18+ pairing: pero tovar x f!reader word count: 6.9K summary: Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanarĂĄ mañana. But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn â not without â Her. Heâd never heal because tomorrow would never come. OR Pero falls hard for a princess and doesnât know what to do with himself on your wedding night. warnings: angst, brief classism/xenophobia two very stubborn people, pero experiences one Human Emotion and cannot fully process it, arranged marriage, yearning, smut LIKE WOW, soft!pero that i broke my own heart with a/n: Thank you so much to @perotovar for this request: "congrats on your milestone, my love! so happy for you <33 i'm sending a little astrology đ« + pero & #6 on the fluffy list OR #1 on the smutty list (whichever is speaking to you), because i wanna see your take on him đâ â of course I chose the slutty one, just for you đ Iâm actually pretty proud of this one - please consider reblogging if you like it too!
*the image in the header is for aesthetic purposes only and does not reflect the appearance of the reader*
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Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanarĂĄ mañana.Â
Sometimes before battle, the clatter inside Peroâs head goes silent. It listens. It waits.Â
Other times, it roars. Memories of family, of dead amigos, of mujeres he fucked â they all buck and scratch for a chance to blaze across his mind like a dust storm kicked up by an unbroken mustang.Â
He doesnât know which one he prefers or which one will win out. They both have their uses, necessary states of mind to survive whatever is barreling towards him â an ax, a monster out of legend, some other drunken mercenary he intentionally pissed off. Itâs an unconscious decision, yet one that has served him well so far. He wouldnât be alive today if some deep, primal part of him knew what he needed to live through another battle.Â
And yet, his own trunk knocking against his hips as he climbed the sickly ostentatious stone steps to the top of the parapet, the handles starting to pinch his fingers, the barest â nearly invisible â tremor in his knees, he cannot fathom, for the life of him, why that singular phrase from his abuela played in his head like water swirling around and around a cenote.Â
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanarĂĄ mañana.Â
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanarĂĄ mañana.Â
His inner voice, taking on a myriad of forms, of sounds and voices, never quite standing still, the one companion he could always rely on.Â
Maybe it was warning him. Dust yourself off, boy, you know exactly how this was going to end.Â
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanarĂĄ mañana.Â
But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn â not without â
Her.
Heâd never heal because tomorrow would never come.
He feels sweat escape from the nape of curls at his neck, his cheeks warm and chest hot. Two more flights, he can manage two more flights.Â
His abuela also liked to tell him something else: if hell doesnât get him, his pride certainly will.Â
Itâs certainly what got him into this ridiculous farce in the first place. Because he canât alchemize whatever is in his gut into vocalized syllables, he instead has to climb a truly incalculable amount of stairs, while carrying a ragged, torn trunk that weighs as much as his armor.Â
Because he canât form the right words, any words, about what he carries lodged beneath his breastbone for her. What draws him up and up and up and up because itâs lighter than hope, makes him lighter than air, and yet it clogs him up, chokes him out all the same. His pride, his vanity, cuts through it, through her â enough to keep him tongueless and dry but not enough to offer this lightness in his chest to her, for her. He canât take the light out of him or else he fears what he will truly become.
So, he walks, he goes around and around on unforgiving stone steps until finally there is a door. He thinks about waiting, to catch his breath, but he knows he will just as easily turn around and go back the way he came, trunk still heavy and knocking against his hips, and that pride will be the death of him. So he keeps going, opens the handle, and makes abrupt eye contact with the two guards outside her door. They seem uninterested and unamused in his sweaty, stilted breathing, but by his less-than-royal attire, they easily clock him as one of their own; a man who fights to make his way in the world. The one on the left nods jerkily at him.Â
What they see him as, what he will always be, is nearly the reason he kicks that fucking trunk all the way back down. Instead, he nods back, shoulders rounded, eyes down.Â
âThe princesa - the princess - is requesting the last of her things, to be b-brought up from the stables â,â he clears his throat, âdrop this off for her and â,â
âCanât let you in. Kingâs orders.â The one on the right sees him as something else â a foreigner first and foremost, their similar stations in life irrelevant. His bright blue eyes rove over Peroâs dark skin, dark hair, jagged scar, distaste and disgust smearing his already ugly features. But he had been dealing with men like these all his life.
âBueno, you can explain to the King himself why his daughterâs belongings were lost and disregarded. I hear sheâs very fond of the Italian prints at the bottom of this . . .â
The guards glance at each other, calculating way above their paygrade. Pero jostles the trunk as if to show he is not above throwing it out the window.Â
âFine.â The second one snaps. âDrop it inside and come back immediately.â
He drops his head, a good little foreign boy. âGracias, señor.âÂ
The heavy wooden door opens beneath the iron lock and the instant he is through, he bolts it behind him. Waits to see if the guards notice. They donât. Perfectamente â all the time in the world.Â
All in the time in the world â for what?Â
To fail? Again?
He stows the trunk in front of the door, extra time, a few seconds maybe â as if she wouldnât just tell him to get out the instant she laid eyes on him. Only time will tell.Â
Out of the atrium, another door, this one set deep into the wall. A last line of defense. He knocks, once, then twice, then waits. El orgullo chokes him again but fuck it, heâs come this far. He knocks again, knocks something in his chest free and, with it, spill the words:
âPrincesa? Itâs me. I â,â it throttles him, âprincesa, can you open the door?âÂ
Silence. His heart sits, buried in that trunk. Then â
âItâs unlocked, Pero.âÂ
His heart in his throat, he opens the door to presumably what will be your marriage bed. And yet, by the state of things, you could have been moving out of it. Trunks and bags stack high against the far wall â those fucking trunks he made such a scene over because the unnecessary weight would slow them all down remain untouched, arranged as they had been when they had been first brought in. He didnât quite know what to make of that, his thumb absently pressing into the callus of his other hand as he glanced around. It is a beautiful room â tall windows, etched in scarlet drapes, to match the scarlet curtains around the bed. With gold thread and impossibly detailed paintings of the countryside, it is fit for a princess, a some-day queen. This is where someone with royal blood deserved to be, not in the back of a hot carriage for weeks on end, surrounded by dirty, loud, rough men.Â
And yet, with your hair down, expansive gown from the ball tonight replaced with a simple cotton dress, you could not have been more out of place. Peroâs heart lurches briefly, moisture seeping from his mouth, as he realizes this is the same dress he bought you when the two of you had been accidentally separated by the caravan and your previous dress had been ruined in the mud. He had no idea you still kept it, much less wore it ever again.Â
But if anyone asked him, you look more beautiful in this than any silk or velvet.Â
Instead of unpacking, settling into your new home and eventual role as wife, you sit hunched over at the intricately carved mahogany desk, eagle feather quill scratching against parchment. You finish with a flourish and look over your shoulder at him, your eyes annoyingly unreadable.Â
âYes?â
A stupid brute some may call him, but he wasnât entirely without awareness. Observation of your customs and what you considered inappropriate only encouraged him: if you really didnât want him here, you would never have let him see you in this state.
But itâs hard to remember that under your icy stare.Â
âY-your things, Princesa. The last from the caravan.â
Your eyes slide over him, to the trunk in the shadows of the atrium. He can tell from a single glance that you know as well as he that trunk is not yours, that no one told him to come here with it, and yet he did it all the same. Something flashes over your eyes but itâs gone by the time you meet his gaze again.Â
âThank you. I am, as always, indebted to you.âÂ
He hates your words, but warmth spreads in his gut at the way you say it. Thatâs how itâs always been between you and him â saying one thing but meaning another. Heâd never appreciated a sharp mind like yours until he realized you wield it as he wields a sharp sword.Â
There are many things heâd never even dreamed of before he met you.
âThen, this means youâre leaving, I suppose.â You draw your sword against him. The metal flashes in your eyes as you stand, one hand against the curved tip of your chair. A bronze halo rims your outline, the fire behind you burning bright and hot. He knows if he touched your shoulder, your neck, your skin would be wonderfully warm.Â
He wets his lips. âSi. Our contract with your father is done.âÂ
You drop his gaze, your lips tightening for a minute, your fingers running through the carvings of wood on the chair. âEven with William in his state? Would it not be better for him to stay and recover? The journey home is â,â you pause, as though someone had thrown a hand over your mouth, ââ the journey back east is long.âÂ
All the longer without you.
âWilliam, he is not an idle man. Two days of bedrest is often all he can take.âÂ
You grin, in spite of this thing circling you both. âUnless he finds the nun attending to him beautiful.
âHe finds them all beautiful.âÂ
Your smile expands wide across your bright face when you find him smiling at you too.Â
This â if this is to be his last memory of you (his heart wrenches at the thought) â this is the you he wants imprinted on his soul: smiling and glowing by firelight.Â
But as quickly as it came, that grin that warms him down to his bones, fades. In an instant, your eyes grow soft, your mouth twisted, jaw tight.
âWhere will you go?â you ask, in the quietest voice youâd ever addressed him with.Â
It pains him, physically aches within him, to hear the distress in your voice. He hasnât even thought about the next contract, the next royal cabrĂłn who intends to yank him all across Godâs green earth to perform a task he canât be fucked to take on himself. How can he possibly answer you? Nowhere, without you. To rot in a dark hole in the ground? Off a cliff? What answer would provide you or him any sort of satisfaction?
âWherever the coin goes,â he says and the words scrape his tongue like bile. That ache in his chest spiraling rapidly, deep into his gut â like a poisoned limb he cannot amputate â he does the same thing he always does when heâs hurt: he makes others hurt until they leave him alone. âYou do not have to worry, princesa, your new husband will keep you in such comfort you will never wonder where the coin comes from.â
He must be a truly sick man, for the knife-sharp glare you throw at him only knots arousal around the base of his spine. It tugs on something attached directly to his groin which, in turn, yanks the next words out of his mouth.
âHe looked especially happy with you in his arms on the dance floor tonight.â
The icy shards in your eyes go brittle and crack. His heart races; heâs overplayed his hand.Â
âYou watched me dance?â
âAll guardsmen were required to â,â
You shake your head, eyes bright and searing through him. âNo. It was only the Kingâs Knights there in attendance.âÂ
Your hand trailing off the edge of the chair, you take a step forward and he feels his weight shift back onto his heels. But he remains firm.Â
Sana, sana.
âPero, why did you come here tonight?â
âTo return the last of your things, princesa. What else is there?â
You flinch, as if he had raised his voice to you. What else is there indeed?
âNot even to . . . say goodbye? Sixteen weeks on the road is an awfully long time to be around someone, only for them to . . . leave so soon.â
He locks his knees to keep them from shaking. âDo you wish for me to tell you goodbye, princesa?âÂ
Thereâs something painfully sad about the way you smile at him. âI wish for whatever would make you happiest.âÂ
Anger roars within him, hungry and hot, like a burn from a white flame. Why canât you just admit it? Why do you avoid it time and time again? He knows he hasnât misread anything youâve sent his way, so why? Why are you so vested in torturing him this way?Â
âCoin makes me happy and, now that I have it, thereâs nothing to keep me here.â
There, that hurts you too, just as he meant it.
âThen leave.â They could make ice fortresses out of the strength of your bone-cold stare. âIf you have nothing else to say, then take your goddamn trunk and get out of my sight.âÂ
The flame scorches him, ripping him apart and in his anger, making him cruel.
He bows to you.
âI imagine you will be very happy with your new husband, ranita.â
The term slips from his lips before he can stop it, but his throat and cheeks blister so badly, he physically canât open his mouth to correct his mistake. Instead, he turns and strides towards the door.
He thinks he hears a gasp from behind him, a sharp sound like breaking glass â small, tinkling, tragic. It spears him through his chest, pierces his heart.Â
He gets to the door and pauses.
If you have nothing else to say . . .
Of course he has something to say â words in English and Spanish and broken dialects gathered like poisonous lichen all churning in the boiling cauldron of his mind, but nothing will suffice â nothing reflects or compares to the grief he is already feeling, the despair, the anguish that has settled into all the fleshy joints in his body. Not his pride, but this, saying goodbye to you, this is what actually will kill him.
Every word imaginable crawls up his throat and rages in his mouth, presses up against his teeth, begging for something, anything to be let out, to be free, to tell you that he cannot fucking live without youâ
Nothing comes through, but one single word.
âDonât.âÂ
The fire crackles in the silence, a wicked god pleased at the display of carnage.
âWhat did you say?â
A dull thud echoes from where he drops his forehead against the wood of the door, all anger flooding out of his system. Do you have any idea the power you hold over him? One request, one tremor in your voice and his knees all but buckle at your altar.Â
Fuck it.Â
He always thought heâd go out in a blaze of bloody glory, but heâd never expected to be so exposed, so flayed like this.
âDonât,â he repeats, his throat as dry as sand. âDo not . . . marry him. Please.âÂ
The vision of your great warrior slumped against the door frame, his neck bent, shoulders curled up to his ears has your already pounding heart leaping forward into a gallop. He is defeated, laid low. You watch his guts all but pool out on your hearth.Â
He looks about as hopeless and anguished as you feel.Â
Your soldier, your man of iron and charcoal, goes blurry in your eyes.
âAnd what would you have me do, Pero?â Your plea is damp, malleable at the edges. You press your hand flat against your chest, near your throat, as if you could pull the grief lodged there with your fingers. âI have been engaged to this man before I was even born. How can I stop this?âÂ
âFight.â The word snarls against his bare teeth. He turns, his eyes liquid ink, and suddenly he has you by the shoulders. His thumbs nervously skitter around the curve of your shoulder, gaze just as unsteady and unfocused as it wavers between your hands, your earlobe, your neck. "Where is my brave girl who fights for what she wants, hm? Fight â for me, please.â
Fight, he asks â but in spite of him or because of him?
You lay your hands on the silver shine of his breastplate, watch as they rise and fall with his steady flow of breath. How many nights had you woken up against that shine, in the crook of his arm for warmth, or protection? You didnât cherish it at the time because you never knew when it would be your last.Â
âWhy wonât you fight, princesa?â His voice is low, strained, the groan of a wagon wheel before it breaks. You meet his gaze and the exposed look on his face, softening every line on his mouth and around his eyes, nearly sends you into hysterics. You swallow the tears, swallow the hook in your throat as your fingers curl around the clasps of his cape.Â
"Because if I don't fight then I can't lose.â His fingers slip from your shoulders, to your elbows, to your waist. You inhale and the scents of warm leather, oil, and ash flood your mouth. The tip of your nose is inches from the scruff of beard against his cheek, the ruddy brown of his sun-drenched skin. He has curled you into him and this, you do not fight either. His massive palms map your back, against your skin, but without any urgency or control. âIf I canât lose, that means I donât lose you. You'll just be . . . gone."
That last word is a lie. It hangs in the air like a sweltering humid rain and you both know youâre lying. He has you wrapped up in his arms, you didnât stop him even for a second, and you are all too aware that it would take some great, insidious alchemy to ever truly tear him out of you.Â
You stare at his silver collar, defiant against the waves you had managed to shackle down until this very moment: a wave of hopeless crashes into you, a wave of heartbreak, a wave of helpless that fills your eyes to the point of spilling with that very same salt water.
He touches your cheek delicately, fingers rough with callouses, and the floodgates break open with a sob.Â
âPreciosa,â he rumbles softly against your hairline, âhush. You break my heart with your tears.âÂ
âDo not mock me, Tovar. Not now.â you sniff, trying to turn your face but his wide hands catch you around the cheeks.
âYou are beyond mocking. Iâd show you my heavy heart but I do not wish that weight on anyone.â The snag of his rough thumbs against your cheek draws your watery gaze to him. His mouth is a flat line, barred against whatever climbs his throat, but his eyes move like mercury across your nose, your eyelashes, the arch of your cheek. Your fingers wrap themselves around his wrists, a grounding agent against the waves that threaten to pull you under.Â
âPero, I â,â
âI have fought you, tooth and nail, for days without end. Every favor, every breath, you have forced them from me. I fight my own mind when I sleep at night. Sueños, always of the same woman.â He smears away the tears with his thumbs, gently, sweetly, before pressing his lips to your wet flesh by his knuckle. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, mouth hovering stationary above the skin of your cheek. âYou fight me every step of the way . . . and I am so tired of fighting.âÂ
For all your struggling, for all your tearing and clawing and snarling against the blooming in your chest, nothing is as easy as it is to turn your head and press your lips to his.Â
The brush of his bristled mustache against your upper lip. His warm, rough palms holding you steady. His lips soft and hot. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him.
There is nothing like, and nothing will ever be like, finally kissing Pero Tovar.Â
All it takes is the movement of his hands from your cheeks to your lower back, the light trace of his tongue against your lips, and the yearning youâd been smothering for weeks now roars to life. His hands squeeze your hips and you can suddenly barely breathe.Â
âPeroâ,â the noise in the shape of his name that escapes you is near a whine, begging. He nips at your lips, hand firmly at the cup of your jaw, mouth now rough and insistent, and your fingers claw up his neck, wrapping themselves in his dark curls. You tug, nails scratching his scalp, and he groans into your mouth as if youâd just kneed him in the gut.
A thread-bare gasp of your name from his lips splits you from him, then his hand on your hip and the back of your neck pushing you backwards gives you enough air to breathe â to think.
"Your husband will know you're not a virgin,â Pero warns, breathing hard and fast, his eyes like black flints, âif we go on."Â
You curl your fingers around his neck, dragging your mouth near his jaw, the soft skin at the edge of his ear.
"Then he will also know my heart is not his either.â You ask everything of him with this. His armor blocks his warm body from you â you want to sink inside his hard shell. âIf youâll have it.â
He is not himself, half-human with an inhuman want, with the snarl that leaves him.Â
âDonât make such promises, dulzura â,â A threat, a dog forced to expose its underbelly, fear radiating like the pain from a broken bone. Your fingers dig into the buckles of his cape, steadying you against a sudden terrible awareness that bloomed, purple-bruised.Â
âUnless you donât want â,âÂ
The desk rattles when your hips break against it, the force of his kiss enough to topple over your inkwell, spill rolls of parchment to the floor. The wood groans under your weight when he gathers the thick swell of your thighs in his hands, heaves you onto the flat surface, and spreads your knees around his waist. He is as hard as the iron on his chest.Â
âCan you feel how much I want you?â
A frantic sigh of relief, a groan shared between two pairs of lips, seeking skin and warmth and other hungry places.Â
He drags you onto his chest, your skirt bunched up around your hips, the rings of his armor digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, his mouth covering yours in wet pulls, and he stands up right, as though you weighed less than his sword.Â
A stumble, and he spreads you out on the velvet covers of your marriage bed, his hands imprinting on your hips, your knees, the supple meat of your calves. The touch of him on your bare skin feels like the licks of flames, the smoke of arousal blurring your awareness and dragging your eyelids half-closed. On his heels at the edge of the bed, the flint shards of his eyes drift over the bones of your ankles, the bend of your knee, your heaving chest, hair in snarls around your neck and caught behind your back, and finally to your cunt, hidden by the folds of your dress.Â
Velvet hums as you slide your ankles to the curve of your ass, widening your legs, parting your knees. His lips part open, dark want etching every line of his face. You feel the wet linen of your dress cling to your achy cunt. He swallows, unbuckling his cape one latch at a time, his eyes nowhere else. The metal clatters as it falls to the floor.
Piece by piece, the chinks in his armor fall away. Piece by piece, he is revealed to you. Your hands rise up, up your thighs to your knees, your thumbs rubbing soft circles. He watches, never tears his gaze away from your sticky hole, his nimble fingers working away the buckles and knots with practiced precision. You can see it in his eyes â memories of bedrolls by firelight, of such a deep painful, yearning ache, separated only by thin tarp, they are a physical weight beside you in this marriage bed.Â
You see them because theyâre there for you too. You see them because you've been here a dozen times, on your back, legs spread wide, your hands circling but never dipping, waiting. Wanting. For him.Â
His bare chest is warm, the wings of his ribs expanding around short, half-drawn breaths, as he crawls up into your pliant mouth. The kisses are slow, like before, with a crackle of heat just beyond them, his hips slipping into the cradle of your thighs, the wet warmth of you separated by the thin linen of your dress. He sucks the tendon below your ear, a whine slipping out of your mouth, fingers spreading over the harsh planes of his back, and his cock bobs against your thigh.Â
Pero is bare and warm and entirely yours. All man beneath the sweltering armor.Â
âAmorcita,â he drips into your ear, kisses smeared against your collarbone, your mouth, your earlobe, âamorcita, amorcita . . . ranita, let me take you.âÂ
He starts to use teeth, a harder nip behind his kisses, when he dips down to your chest. A wide palm with stocky fingers grasps at your breast and itâs a startling sensation for you both.Â
âSoft,â he moans before licking up under the supple curve of your breast, mouthing at what his tongue missed. He slips your erect nipple into his mouth and twists it between his teeth. âSweet,â he murmurs with your nipple firmly between his lips.Â
This is unlike anything youâve felt before. You deliriously thank the gods that he hadnât touched you like this on the road; you would have kept him, your own wild animal, in bed without rest for days on end.
Pero plucks just as aggressively at your other breast, the spit-wet nipple that preoccupied his mouth verging on purple and aching. He cups you from the outside this time, squeezing and massaging, ringing your nipple with his tongue until your back bows and you let out a whine that has his eyes flickering up to you, the scent of wounded prey filling his nostrils.Â
That whine of pleasure elongates into a whimper: âplease.â
âTranquila, ranita.â His touch is softer around your bruised tits, but he keeps one hand bagging the weight of your breast while the other slips beneath your skirt.
The pads of his fingers brush your creamy cunt and with a yelp, you grab him by the wrist, your eyes open with a familiar emotion he draws out of you: rage.
âPero Tovar, if you value your life you will take me under the covers and put your â,â
He chuckles, his cheek against yours, nose rimming the velvet hairs on the ridges of your ear. The vibrations liquify the tension in your bones, loosening your grip. Your eyes flutter, slick obviously running down his fingers. âRanita, I donât think you know how you want to end that sentence..â
His words roll like honey over the heat of your skin. It makes your skin tremble. Your grip tightens on his wrist and you roll your hips, your swollen clit finally relieved by the pressure of his palm.Â
âOh, oh, Peroâ,âÂ
With a grunt, he shuffled closer, elbow by your shoulder and he cups your entire wet cunt in his hand, pushing the heel of his palm flatter against you. You cry out, a sparkling kind of pleasure radiating out from where his hand rests. You buck your hips faster, complete release flickering through your outstretched hand.Â
âCan you come like this?â You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you barrel towards escape, and you feel him shudder next to you. You are intimately aware that heâs rubbing his cock on the crease of your hip bone but that only drags you faster towards the light. âThen come, ranita, come and Iâll fuck you.âÂ
The wet, curling heat growing between your legs descends, then in a bright snap, explodes across your body.Â
âFuck!â You tear open your eyes to find them damp, Peroâs massive hand cupping your cheek towards him, his stallion eyes dark as his fingers drag on the soaked material of your dress, your hips slowing.Â
âAmorcita, breathe.â The words are torn from his chest, all cock-suredness gone from his frantic gaze. You gulp in air, the weight of his body over yours grounding and smothering you all at once. He pulls his hand away from you, rides it up your thigh to your waist, looking for something to hold onto. He strokes his thumb once against your overheated skin and youâre wriggling up out of your dress.Â
âHelp,â you hiss and his fingers nearly tear the fabric off you.
With a few undone buttons, you shiver out of your dress, the slick-drenched spots catching on your warm skin. He flings it behind him, near the fireplace.Â
He takes you barely beneath the thick covers before you welcome him back to the heat of your open legs.Â
But instead of reeling back and plunging his aching cock into you, he takes the time to kiss you. To praise you in all the ways he fears his mouth will end up short. He kisses you, grateful, reverent â wonderful to be swallowed by but also a distraction.
When he lifts your knees by his waist, your hips automatically tilt towards him and for the first time, you feel his red, sore cock between your tacky lips. The dual sensation nearly drags you over the rack of delectably delicious pleasure, as does his worn, broken groan in your ear.Â
âMore, please, donât stop.â You cry against the bristles of his beard, his hand dropping between your sweat-slick bodies, finding yours already there to guide him. The press of him spreads you open, filling you one sinking notch at a time. The sensation of your pink, dripping walls moving to take more of him in has you arching up into his chest, nails dragging into his back. His dry lips stifle the moans escaping from your mouth.Â
Pero takes both of your hands in his, dragging them above your head, his fingers locking your palms together as his hips roll forward. âCĂĄlmate, amorcita, cĂĄlmate,â he murmurs between distracted presses of his mouth against your chin, your cheek, his breathing heavy and stunted. You writhe, pinned open by his hips and his hands, his cock filling you all too slowly and not fast enough.Â
With the last few inches, you take him completely, your cunt throbbing, heart pounding, intoxicated by the sensation of being so maddeningly full. Pero drapes over you, his head tucked into your neck, forearms straining with the tension of gripping your hands tightly.Â
âSanta madre . . .â He is not a warrior right now. He is but a man, cunt-drunk and heaving.Â
His name is pushed out of the bottom of your lungs with the first swing of his hips. You cling to him, knees at his ribs, unwilling to let even an inch of space between your bodies. But this becomes increasingly difficult as his thrusts gain speed. His flushed lips stain a sticky line against your jaw, down to your throat, and he releases your hands, the oak of the bed creaking beneath the force of him drilling down into you, he props himself up on his palms, his shoulders bent and curled over you, biceps straining, hairline damp, eyelids fluttering. The scar on his cheek is flushed pink.
âLook, amorcita, look how well you take me.â
His words tear you from your nebulous high, the grit of them forcing your head down to the obscene squelch beneath the sheets. The thatch of rough curls over his groin is drenched in slick, his thick cock soaked to the point of shine as it drives into you again and again. The heavy draft of breath the sight steals from him, the tap of his cock against a place so deep you didnât know your body possessed, draws the spooling bliss as tight as a wire.Â
Your trembling thighs squeeze him tighter, that hot pressure rendering you speechless, except for the most pathetic whine. Please, Pero, please, you think, you mutter, you whisper, your body rocking damp against the sheets.Â
With a sudden snarl, he takes the chunk of your hair at the base of your head flat in his fists and tugs. A shoot of bright pain sparks bliss down to your tight and bruised nipples, and you cry out again.Â
âStop fighting, puedo sentir cuanto la quieres. Let me have it.â It is the following word that splits you open like lighting carving apart a tree. âPlease.â
The wail that you release is the rush of gooseflesh over your skin alchemized into audible sound. Heat radiates through you, sucking the air from your lungs, your vision going blurry, then black as you clamp your eyes shut against the rush, the final release, that curls you into his arms. His warm, flushed arms, shaking with strain. A final wobbly thrust or two and his elbows are buckling, sweat-drenched chest pressing into your own.
Distantly, you are aware of the warm, slick drip down your thighs, his cock pulsing the last drops into your cum-flecked cunt, and the dangers this sort of intimacy poses. You canât gather enough breath, enough sense to settle the spinning room, to worry or even care.Â
Your his, and he is yours. That is all that will ever matter.Â
The crackle of wood burning is the only other sound than your ragged breaths, the silent roll of sweat from sticky hot skins into the bedsheets. The stone walls of the castleâs room entomb you together for a brief stretch of infinity.
Pero moves and you think heâs going to back out of you, but instead, he merely adjusts, his head fully on your chest, thick fingers clutching your bruised waist, the shift of his cock pushing more of his release out of your oversensitive cunt. But youâll take overstimulation over his absence every time. You run your fingers through his damp curls and he hums.Â
âIâm sorry,â he huffs into your humid skin. âIâm sorry I let my pride keep us apart for so long.âÂ
You grin lazily to the ceiling, your breath settling as affection takes its place in your chest.Â
âYou were not the only one blinded by vanity.âÂ
âBut Iâm not blind. Not anymore.â He lifts his head, eyes as dark as your spilled inkwell. âI am never letting you go.âÂ
You smile at him, fingers soft against the back of his neck. âI donât plan on wandering away.âÂ
His oil-black gaze drops to your lips and he leans forward to take your mouth against his. Gentle, but with the promise of more.Â
âMi ranita,â he purrs to break the kiss.Â
âYou call me that all the time, Pero. What does it mean?â
At that, a nearly shy expression crosses his face. He shakes his head, shifting onto his elbows to lift off you. âI canât tell you. It will ruin your good mood.âÂ
You gasp, offended, and you grab him by the ear and twist. He chuckles through a grimace. âYou will tell me what that means, Pero Tovar, if you value your appendages.âÂ
âĂrale, princesa, retract your claws and I will tell you.âÂ
You release your grip and settle against your pillow. Grinning bashfully, he kisses your neck briefly.
âRemember that I love you after I tell you this.âÂ
Your heart nearly stops, the absence of a steady beat nearly drawing tears to your eyes but you hold firm. You breathe deeply against the fluttering in your stomach and pin him with your glare. Of course, this is how he would profess his love to you â when heâs trying to get out of trouble.Â
âTell me, Tovar!â
He chuckles again and preemptively picks up your hands. He kisses the inside of your palms, settling himself between your thighs.Â
âIt means little frog.â Your mouth falls open in a gasp and you struggle to yank your hands back from him, hissing like a tea kettle, but he uses his weight to press down on you. He nips at your nose. âI call you that because when youâre upset with me, much like you are now, you puff up like a bullfrog, your cheeks like thisâ,â
He rounds his cheeks full of air, crossing his eyes, and you simply cannot take the slight anymore. You push roughly against his gut, the breath trapped in his mouth escaping in a hot puff, and you twist him onto his back. He lets you, of course, his bold, full laughter rendering him defenseless. His body shakes beneath you, his beautiful eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open wide as he laughs and laughs and laughs. You take him by the wrists and push his limp hands over his head, pinning him as he had you. You pinch his chin with your teeth, your messy cunt over his stomach, as his laughter subsides.Â
âHave you had your fun yet?âÂ
âBarely,â he chuckles, turning his big nose against your cheek and inhaling. He hums.
âIs that all I am to you? A joke?â
Pero opens his eyes, sober as death rattle. He takes you in, not in a hungry, all-consuming way, but in a look that speaks of awe and rapture.
âYou are everything to me.â
You sigh, releasing his hands and curling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, your eyes on the roaring fire. His thumbs rub your shoulder blades, trace the lines of your spine.
âYouâre so very lucky I love you too.âÂ
His wandering against the expanse of your back stills, just for a moment, before his fingers slide into your hair, around the nape of your neck, holding you to him with the intention of keeping you there forever.
âI know, ranita, I know.âÂ
He watches you sleep as the sky lightens beyond the tall windows on the opposite side of the bedroom. The dying fire traces your edges in gold, settling heat in the curve of your lips.Â
His heart lurches with the wanting of you.
Thereâs more terrible things to come, he knows that. The plan the two of you concocted in the early morning hours will be dangerous, deadly even. But dying together instead of living apart would be much more tolerable, you told him earlier that night, your hand on his chest.Â
He would kill if you asked. He would kill, even if you didnât, to keep you safe and by his side. Youâve proven yourself capable of living a life away from this spectacular opulence, but it pains him to know he will never be able to give you anything nearly as lovely as the velvet dresses in the closet, the gold jewelry in your trunks.Â
Instead, all he has to offer is himself. His strength, his hands, his heart. Itâs his own fear that tells him thatâs not enough, because you remind him again and again thatâs more than you ever wanted.Â
He traces the curve of your cheek with the hovering pad of his finger, brushing your hair away from your face. How he ended up so lucky with your love, heâll never know, but he will spend the rest of his days proving that heâs earned it.Â
You stir in your sleep, sensing him above you, and he hates to steal even a few minutes of blissful sleep from you, knowing the endless nights that are coming. When he steals you away from all that youâve ever known.Â
The sleepy grumble in your throat resembles his name as he curls around you, but your eyes remain gently closed. He pulls you against him, the air that leaves your mouth and sits between your chest and his something he covets with his whole heart.Â
I love you and Iâm disgustingly lucky and I love you.Â
He is a man made of dust, serving men made of silver. He is a man of dust, loving a woman made of gold.
El orgullo? No, Abuela, his ranita will get him first, last, and every time.
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Translations:
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanarĂĄ mañana. - This rhyme is typically said to children when they have just hurt themselves. The parent (or grandparent) usually rubs the part that is sore and sings this little tune. Literally translates to: "heal, heal, little frogâs tail. If you donât heal today, you will heal tomorrow."
el orgullo - pride
dulzura - sweetness, romantic connotation
amorcita - little love, romantic connotation
Tranquila - quiet, as in "be quiet" or "relax"
CĂĄlmate - take it easy, or take it slow
puedo sentir cuanto la quieres - I can feel how much you want it/love it
Ărale - okay, or an exclamation expressing approval or encouragement.
ranita - little frog, but you knew that already ;)
the rest are cognates (or familiar words) which you can probably guess the meaning of, but feel free to message me if you don't know!
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