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togenabi · 7 months

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pick me up

roronoa zoro (opla) x reader

♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

word count♡— 3.2k

genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader

content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!

“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing.

“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”

Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed.

“Because they were overbored!”

Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes.

You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”

“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.

Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”

The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.

“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.

The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince.

“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”

“...”

“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.

Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”

“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”

Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.

“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?

But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.

“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group.

“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.

You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.

“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.

“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.

“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.

“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze.

“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”

Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.

Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.

You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”

“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.

“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure.

Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him.

Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”

You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”

“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.

“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”

Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.

Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards.

The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”

Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”

You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”

Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink.

Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.

You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.

“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.”

And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.

“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you.

As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.

“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.

“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”

You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.

“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”

You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”

Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”

That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”

She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”

“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”

“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”

You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”

“Of course, my gem.”

“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”

The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.

After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.

“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”

“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.

“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”

“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”

“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.

You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.

…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?

“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”

You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.

But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.

You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”

Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”

You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.

Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”

The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.

You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.”

“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.

“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.

“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”

Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.

“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit.

“I’d like that.”

Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.

He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.

In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”

Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.

Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”

“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.

“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.

“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”

Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”

Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.

“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”

“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”

“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.”

Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”

Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.

“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”

Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion.

“I have an idea.”

When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart.

But unfortunately for you, he had other plans.

You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”

“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?

You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now.

But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?

“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.”

You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?

“...Can I be part of your future?”

That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.

No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did.

“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.

“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“You said I always stick to your side.”

He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”

“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”

That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”

Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”

His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else...

“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.

Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders.

“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing.

“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.

After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.

“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter.

“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise.

You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.

Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)

“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.

“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.

“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”

“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.

taglist: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @hi3431 @akakaze @lownna

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somerandomdudelmao · 11 months

Note

But what's Casey using to cloak himself?

From what we see in the show, cloaking brooches are normally activated by touch but can be turned on/off without it (eg. big mama's hotel staff). This makes it pretty hard to tell what it is, and normally when theorizing about something like this, you need to go through and reread EVERYTHING but I'm too lazy for that so lets assume I actually did. Firstly lets get the mask and hockey stick out of the way, because he doesn't even have those on him afterward Draxum gave him the cloaking "pin". He doesn't actually seem to have anything that could be identified as a brooch or pin as far as we can tell in the first few panels of the "Commander O'Neil arc", which narrows it down from anything that could be blatantly obvious. He could, however, be hiding it somewhere on his body (chest, shin, shoulder, or boots are most likely in order) There's also the chance of the magic just being infused into him because Draxum is Draxum and magic shenanigan's, which could mean this search is futile and I'm just ranting about useless sh*t. Anyways, since Casey usually has one or two outfits per arc, weather it be different from the previous or not, I'm gonna compile all the first (good) shots of him here somewhat in order (from after the turt casey saga):

The images above seem to be his more casual outfit worn around the base, with short sleeves and long, loose pants tucked into what looks like boots and/or ankle wraps (similar to what Raph has on his arms in the show).

The classic battle/outdoor outfit that we see him wear in the movie, consisting of armor that vaguely resembles a turtle on his chest, a cape that goes over his shoulders and covers his neck as well as the top of his torso, pants with kneepads, shoes akin to sneakers, possible arm wraps that go under the gloves, the cool ass mask, and his hockey stick.

back into the shirt and pants when in the past lair, but is in a different shirt as there is no longer a rip on the left sleeve. He isn't wearing any shoes, scratching the boots/shoes theory, as well as his pants going up past his ankles and almost past his shins, meaning it's probably not there either.

going onto the surface, Casey wears a hoodie supposedly on top of the shirt and pants he wears around the lair, gathering his stick and mask to go with it. He is also seen wearing this hood in the lair on part 10 of "You are in the past, your thoughts are in the future".

The shirt and pants are definitely his lair outfit at this point, the photo above is from "Donatello".

the hoodie returns for a magic spell, only to be replaced with the free Hamato possesion make over

This lovely upgrade keeps his hoodie, but he now has a design similar to the Hamato outfits for the turtles in the episode "Insane in the Mama Train", with wraps on his arms, legs, and around his waist. Donnie's logo now sits on his heart (awww), and he looks pretty damn cool. I wasn't sure if he had socks or shoes on, but looking at that piece of fanart on Cass' page, it's shoes. There is a symbol on his back, possibly being that of the Hamato clan (hard to tell though, as it looks more like some kind of wheel in most panels you can see it)

The turtle version seems to be pretty much the same, the only difference being the wraps changing for his now 3 fingered hands and 3 toed feet, as well as the hoodie likely becoming a bit looser/bigger to better fit his shell. A little something I noticed about the transformation scene is that it starts from his ankles/shins/feet, which is cool and all for the posing, but is a bit controversial because it is, in fact, not in any of those areas. IN CONCLUSION,

The brooch (if there is one) is not on his arms due to him wearing short sleeves around the lair, it is not put in his shoes, and it does not need to be activated by touch. It is not anywhere near his feet, as there isn't anything we can see despite the transformation thingies coming from that general area. If we take the previous sentence into account, it is not on his chest either, crossing out pretty much all of the options we have. The last thing I can think of is Draxum somehow just... injecting the stuff into him as a controllable power. That could be flimsy, though, as Casey could've struggled with that of course. But then again, plot convenience.

TL;DR

The brooch is probably non-existent and Draxum just did some mystic shit to the kid.

THE A M O U N T of research HOLY SHIT??!¿¿¿

Why is it that every time I read an essay with theories, I feel like I'm not the author???Ahahah but for real?? I strait up just sit there like...

like...oh my god, how interesting, there are so many mysteries in this comic, unravel them for me please

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little-spicy · 1 year

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SNOWFALL

Robb Stark x !Baratheon Reader

Summary: an alliance of house Baratheon and house Stark was going to set place in Winterfell. Y/N Baratheon and Robb Stark were to be wed and be man and wife.

WARNING: MDNI!! Smut 🔥🔥

THE EARLY MORNING WAS CRISP AND COLD, the warm breath that Y/N emitted could be seen in the air.

She held her coat close to her as she watched the morning sunrise. She felt sad as this would be the last moment she would be a young maiden. She would be married later in the afternoon and she felt frightened.

She was told her entire childhood that Robb Stark would be her betrothed. Her father and his father were friends and her father knew the best way their houses could come together was through marriage.

She was the oldest, being one year old than Joffrey and the only one of her family to have her fathers brown curls.

Of course her mother despised the agreement, she believed her daughter was worthy of a better suitor but nonetheless it was still set in stone.

Robb Stark was definitely different from what she imagined. She knew it could of been worse, he was a gentleman and kind, showing her the home that was soon to be shared.

And she could tell he was just as nervous was her. They were both young and knew their duties were required one day.

Y/N tried not to think of it as she felt the sun rise and felt the heat of the sun rest on red cheeks.

"Excited for the big day?" A voice said and Y/N jumped and turned to see her uncle Tyrion coming forward.

"Excited to be married and away from my family?" She asked her uncle sighed and stood beside her.

"It's probably better, you and I both know that kingslanding is no place for someone like you." He told her.

"And what am I?" She asked and he chuckled.

"Truthful, kind, surprising you turned out that way considering how your mother is." He said and she laughed.

"Don't say that too loud, mother can hear everything." She told him.

"That's because your mother is a wicked witch, have I taught you nothing from my bedtime stories?" Tyrion asked and the both laughed.

"I do, even though I know how my family is, I'll still miss them." She said and looked down at her uncle. "Especially you, what will I do without my favorite uncle?"

"You'll adapt, you'll grow that's a good quality you have as well." Tyrion said. "Just know that you'll be taken care of, that Robb stark is a good man, I hate to admit but he's a good man."

"Thank you." Y/N stared at the sunset and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Time to start the day?"

"Of course, let's go." Tyrion said and walked with his niece.

Both of them taking of the future and of the past, making Y/N feel at ease from the words of her uncle.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the small walk and talking with her uncle, she returned to her chambers and only a few moments of peace lasted until her hand maidens came in and began to get ready for the wedding.

She smelled of lavender and lilac, and her long brown curls fell perfectly. She felt refreshed and as they dried her, she saw her wedding gown laying on the bed.

Soon her mother, Lady Stark, and her soon to be sister Sansa had come in to help.

The Stark women came to bring Y/N gifts to welcome her into their home. Sansa had helped make a veil for Y/N and Lady Stark had brought a beautiful brooch of the Stark family to welcome her.

She felt so honored by the kindness of the Stark family, of course she could tell there was never a dull moment.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be alone with my daughter." Cersei told the Stark ladies and the nodded.

"Of course, see you at the wedding my dear." Lady Stark said and Sansa followed behind and left the two women alone.

Cersei looked at her daughter and smiled, she placed her hands on her daughter's cheek and led her to the dresser.

"Let me do your hair." Cersei said and Y/N nodded and felt content as her mother brushed through her hair. Feeling as if they were home in the castle. "This will be the last time I do it, then you'll do it for daughters of your own."

"I'll miss this." Y/N said sadly. "You always made the prettiest braids."

"Your grandmother did the same thing for me when I was a child." Cersei told her. "You remind me so much of her, my mother was so kind and i remember the day you were born, I could just feel my mother's presence in you."

As Cersei continued to brush, Y/N but her bottom lip and felt the creeping question she always had when it came to her betrothal.

"Mother, is it scary?" Y/N asked her. "I mean I know you didn't marry father for love, how did you do it?"

"Wine, lots of wine." Cersei said, bitterly and grabbed a chunk of hair and brushed it softly. "Overtime it did help that I had children, I had you, that's all that mattered."

"Do you think he'll make me happy?" Y/N asked and Cersei scoffed.

"I wouldn't count too much on that, sometimes it's just an alliance, remember that." Cersei told her and Y/N grew silent. "Are only duty is to marry and bring honor to our house through marriage and bare many children."

Y/N nodded and the two of them fell silent as Cersei continued to do her daughter's hair.

Cersei loved all her children but something about Y/N was special. She was her first, the first one of her children to truly live. She looked up at Cersei and when she did it felt as if nothing mattered.

Her daughter looked up to her and still does, Cersei knows the type of person she is, but the warmth and innocent eyes of her daughter made her feel human and her softer side was only seen by her.

Cersei didn't care of that her daughter wasn't Jaime's all she cared was that her daughter was protected. She truly had a place for her little doe.

"Lets get you in your dress." Cersei said as Y/N looked in the mirror and saw her hair up in a beautiful braid.

She followed her mother and helped her in her dress. She tied up her corset and helped her to the tiniest detail, knowing this would be the last time she would.

"You look beautiful." Cersei said as she led Y/N to the mirror. Y/N felt truly beautiful, she forgot for just a moment what awaited her and felt happy with how she looked.

"Thank you mother." Y/N said and turned to her mother and hugged her tightly. Cersei held her daughter right and tried not to cry.

The women heard a knock on the door and Cersei wiped the tears away quickly and cleared her throat.

"Come in." Cersei said and the door opened to reveal Robert Baratheon, Y/N's father.

"You look so beautiful my little doe." Robert said and came over, he took her hands and took a long look at her.

Y/N blushed and smiled as her father looked down at her with such pride. He thought Lyanna was the most beautiful but at that moment, his daughter was the most beautiful thing he had seen.

"Let us go." Robert said and Cersei sighed and grabbed her veil and placed it over her. "Robb will treat you right, he's a noble man."

Cersei fought the urge to bite back but knew better than to do it. Y/N walked along her mother and father as they began to walk.

Each step they took Y/N began to fully realize she was getting married.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Many people were at the Godswood, the heart of Winterfell and where Lord Stark wanted the ceremony to be.

The tree stood beautiful before them, the faint redness of the leaves contrasted with the white snow. The birds chirped and the small murmurs of the people from Winterfell and the guests that came from Kingslanding.

Her mother parted from her reluctantly and went to where her brothers stood and Robert guided Y/N down the snowy path.

Y/N could see Robb in his bear skin cloak, his face freshly shaven and his eyes were full of emotions. Fear, admiration, and another one she couldn't figure out.

She felt her heart race as she came closer and closer to him. As Y/N and Robert came up to Robb, Robert smiled down.

"Take care of her." Robert said and walked over to his wife.

Robb looked at Y/N and he smiled, she blushed at his gaze and the Septon interrupted their eye contact.

"You may now cloak your bride and bring her under protection." The Septon said and Robb did so and placed the large cloak over her shoulders.

Robb then placed his hand on her back to bring her closer to the Septon and he continued.

"My lords and my ladies, we stand here to unite these two houses as one. Princess Y/N Baratheon and Lord Robb Stark as one flesh, one blood, and one soul."

The Septon pulled out a ribbon and grabbed both of their hands. Y/N's hands were shaking as the Septon took her hand and when Robb placed his hand on top of hers he took it gently and squeezed.

"In the sight of all who sees and in the eyes of the gods I hereby bound these two souls, binding them as one." The Septon spoke. "You may kiss your bride."

Robb looked at Y/N and leaned down to kiss her softly. When they kissed it felt strange, an unfamiliar feeling crept up and Y/N didn't know what it was but she liked it.

The feeling of his warm lips against her made her forget of everyone around them, ignoring the sounds of their cheering and screams of the houses being united.

They parted their kiss and looked at each other with bewilderment. Y/N smiled first and made Robb smile back, he kissed her left cheek softly and the both turned to the crowd in front of them.

"I present to you Lord Robb Stark and Lady Y/N Stark." The Septon spoke and everyone erupted in applause once more.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the wedding ceremony the feast that was held afterwards was a party to remember. For once everything seemed peaceful and joyful.

Cersei was actually civil with her brother Tyrion, Robert was blinding drunk yet, and even Joffrey was not as unpleasant as usual.

Everyone cheered and praised the happy couple, giving them their blessings and kind words.

It seemed everyone was so engrossed with the feast that Robb took Y/N away from the loud noises and back to their now shared chamber.

Y/N and Robb were still in their wedding garments, Y/N was able to get her braid undone and her long hair flowed behind her back. They were both unsure of what to do, and stood in front of each other in nervousness.

"I- uh- I know this isn't- that this is-" Robb was then was cut off by Y/N.

"Strange?" Y/N said and Robb nodded and sighed in relief.

"Yes." Robb answered. "We don't have to-"

"I- I want to." Y/N said, her face turning red. "I just want you to know, I know I'm not the ideal girl you intended to marry but I want to be the best wife I can."

Robb's eyes softened at her words, she cupped his cheeks.

"I don't want to be like my mother and father." She told him. "I want to be an ally, a companion, so much more than just an alliance."

She kissed both his cheeks and he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.

"I'd like that, I want you to know that I will be an honorable man."'Robb told her and held her tight. "I know I'm not the man you wanted either but I promise you I'll treat you as an equal."

Y/N nodded and grabbed his hand and placed it on top of her shoulders and guided him to take off her dress. The world felt still and they both felt as if they couldn't breath once Y/N's dress fell on the floor.

Robb then got on his knees and kissed up her thigh, she blushed bright red and felt electricity as she felt every kiss on her thigh.

She tried to hide a moan but Robb heard her and that's what made him feel bold, snap.

Robb suddenly got up and picked her up bridal style, she squealed as he placed her on the bed.

Y/N looked up to Robb and the look in his eyes held lust. She watched as Robb moved his hands across her body and felt her body tingle and goosebumps erupted.

He placed her on the warm bed, layered with thick blankets, and the soft feel of sheep's skin.

Her long hair fell back as Robb looked down at her, his eyes filled with lust.

"Gods, you're beautiful." He said and kissed one of her breast, causing her to squirm.

He smiled while continuing to kiss her, he went up to her neck and up until he reached her lips.

She kissed him and touched his cheeks gently. As they pulled apart they put their foreheads together and both caught their breaths.

"It's going to hurt for a second, I'll be gentle I promise." Robb told her and she could feel her tummy flutter as he grabbed his cock and rubbed it through he folds, touching her clit over and over.

She felt terror rise in her chest as she awaited the pain, all her life after she gotten her maiden hood, her maids, mother, and septas told her of the pain of her wedding night.

She felt his cock slide through and she hissed, she immediately put her hand on his arm and squeezed. He stopped and saw the tears fall.

"I'm sorry." He said and kissed her cheeks and waited for her to allow him to move.

"It's alright." Y/N told him and looked up to him with glossy eyes. "You can move, love."

The nickname she gave him made his heart swell and he moved at a slow pace, he tried not to cum as he felt her warm, tight walls grip him.

She felt the uncomfortable burn of being stretched and as he continued to move, the more bearable it was. The soon burn began to make her stomach flutter, and her breath hitch.

Robb watched as her expression changed from pain to pleasure. It made Robb swell with pride as his wife felt pleasure and leaned down and kissed her as his pace didn't stop.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gripped into his auburn curls. As they released each other from their kiss, she threw her head back with a moan.

"Please." She begged and Robb smirked, leaning down to her her ear.

"What? What do you need?" He asked tauntingly, and pulled back slowly and slammed back into her and she yelped in surprise.

"Please, don't hold back." She looked at him and touch her hand on cheek. "Fuck me."

She kissed him once more and he moaned in her mouth and obliged to her and began to fully pound into her.

He was feral, he was relentless and fully in heaven as she milked him.

"I-I'm, oh gods!" She yelled and felt her walls clamped down onto his shaft.

She felt him shudder in pleasure as his ropes of cum began to fill inside her.

"Gods, yes." He moaned and jolted as he moved his cock in and out slowly, coming down from his high.

She felt goosebumps on her arms and legs as she began to breathe heavily from her first orgasm.

Robb pulled out of her and she felt full of his seed as he collapsed beside her. She moved to her side to face him, the faint glow of the candles and fire shone on his face.

The look of happiness and content from his face made her heart swell.

"Hi." She said to him, which caused him to chuckle.

"Hi." He said and she felt her cheeks redden.

He put his hand on her hip and he could feel the goosebumps rise.

"So that was-" Robb couldn't find the words and she finished for him.

"Amazing." She said and he nodded, he leaned forward and kissed her lips softly.

"Now that you're my wife, I won't be able to get enough." He said and she shuffled closer to him and he held her in his arms. "I meant what I said."

"What?" She asked and looked up at him.

"I'd treat you as an equal, my wife and a friend." He said and Y/N laid her head on his chest. Smiling hearing those words and hearing the sound of his heart beating.

"Thank you." She said and moaned as she felt Robb touch her clit and made her squirm in his arms.

"What do you say, lady stark, another time?" He asked and felt his cum coat her thighs and smeared his cum around as lube and she could feel herself getting wet again.

"Yes, my lord." She said and Robb growled and got on top of her, she giggled as he enveloped her in his arms and kissed him.

She felt happiness in his arms, and held him close. Both of them later in the night tangled in each other and asleep together.

Both of them glad that they were husband and wife.

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!! Ty for reading and I also wanted to add I'm doing commissions!!!! Just message me and I can show you some of my pieces or go to @ peytonmunson on insta!

#game of thrones #Robb stark x reader #Robb stark smut #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut #got x reader smut #Robb stark x reader smut #fanfic #smut #smut x reader

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enbesbians · 5 months

Text

‘LUMIÈRE (light)’

artistic obsessive! ellie x in love! reader

cw: knife play, obsessive! ellie, blood play, stalker! ellie, oblivious! reader, fingering (r! receiving), tribbing, nipple play if you squint

MINORS DNI

summary: ellie is an odd girl… she likes odd things and does odd stuff. her obsessiveness and possessive nature is too much to grasp but you can’t help yourself but needing a taste of her torture. her rebellion and outlook on the world was attractive, passing through every red flag she possibly had with a salty teared kiss. she was the light in a room filled of chipped paint and dirtied tile— her blade carving the prettiest of pictures that you seemed to love on the thick of your skin. ‘hang them up on the wall, let the world see… you are mine and always will be’

a/n: warning if you don’t like blood play and knife play… do not proceed. this was too much, ill admit, but i really wanted to grasp the insanity ellie has for the reader. this isn’t proofread so this might be all over the place and have a multitude of mistakes but let’s not pay attention to that… i hope you end up enjoying nonetheless. (i also made the mistake of referencing ellie’s room as yours… just forget that happened)

no one told you in the beginning ellie already knew who you were. she knew your name, she knew that you worked down the busy strip of the city where only cute little old women would buy brooches for their dresses and fluffy scarfs, she knew that you lived approximately twenty minutes away on foot and five by car. you didn’t know that you had already been drawn on many of the pages in her sketchbook before she said hello, lying saying that she drew it after the fifth ‘accidental’ meeting.

to be this oblivious was a skill and to be this good at stalking was impressive, it was like a new profound profession. ellie was good at being odd like this— she never questioned her own antics, thinking that whatever she did was in good faith. she just worked off her needs by impulse. the first time you complimented her thick brown jacket that she placed on the counter to buy, she got a real good look at you. that tired stare, forced to be kind after the repetitive small talk you’d give every customer. in some ways, she knew that it was fake— your ‘hello’ and ‘have a good day’ had nothing but boredom laced within each syllable— but she couldn’t get enough of how beautiful you were. you were a light that she needed to obtain in her darkness, so she took it upon herself to study you.

many times she’d come into the store and wouldn’t even buy anything— wearing hats and beanies and even her roommates clothes to hide the fact that it could be her but you didn’t pay attention even to the regulars who’d come almost every day. she learned your favorite kinds of music while you spoke with a coworker, she learned your favorite color and what you liked to eat after a long shift. she took mental notes and kept them in memory for as long as she could hold them.

she’d watch you from across the street, seeing how you’d struggle to lock the door during closing hours. she noticed how angry you got when it wouldn’t work or if you had left the keys inside, all to open the door’s gate and repeat each step. calculated and smart, making the first official meet seeming as though it was all coincidental, saying all the right words, mentioning all your favorite things, loving how your eyes beamed with excitement thinking that you and ellie had been similar in many ways no one else had.

the connection that built off that first meet was powerful. ellie played her cards extremely well making each encounter better than the last, her presence now seen knowing that you didn’t mind her random pop ins to your job, you encouraged it and looked forward to seeing that weird auburn haired girl and her raspy laugh.

after a few months, you took her to your house, cooking spaghetti that you had learned from the internet which ended up too bland and too watery, forgetting the bread in the oven that was now too crispy to enjoy, apologizing over and over that you had messed it up. ellie didn’t care, she adored how hard you tried to impress her. the noodles twirling against her silver fork that had flowers carved into it’s handle, rolling her tongue against her lips with eyes that showed her need of you. she took you to your bedroom, where the sauce of the pasta had vanished and replaced itself with the warm folds of your messy slit.

you’d explore the inside of her mouth, tongue tasting of beer and fingers of left over bread and parmesan cheese. her lips would explore the flower of your labia of the thump of your clit, dressing it with her sweet salvia and drunken words. she sucked your cunt deeply, fingers digging into the inner of your thighs with her nose tickling against your pubic bone. then she laid on the soft indent of your comforter, her hips fucking up into your face with conviction, hands buried in the back of your head as she moaned your name over and over again.

ellie was obsessed and so were you.

time worked on her side and the way you followed her made her feel invincible. you fell for her charm, the way she talked about art so eloquently and the expanse of her taste in music mixing in with your own, playing the stings of her new guitar she bought at the old record and instrument shop down the way. you fell for her odd way of speaking, the numerous ‘ums’ and abrupt laughs between her words. awkward and fantastical, hyper yet calm. scratching the back of her neck and picking at the skin of her nailbeds. you fell for her love for weed and the scent that carried on in her skin.

she dressed in clothes, weirdly put together, hanging off her body with its interesting style, looking on the brink of disintegration. they were distressed, faded, but put in a fashionable way that would look like utter shit on others. the peak of elastic from her boxers shown as she stretched, her toned abdomen crafted. her worn converse that seemed to be each pair she owned— black, red and blue, all reaching the end point of being at a functional wear. she made it look sexy, her rebellious and don’t give a fuck attire caught your attention. it brought you in.

she wouldn’t let anyone interfere. kindly asking who people were after you seemed a little to excited of their presence when theyd walk in the shop or if you had texted someone a little too long with a smile resonating on you lips. you found it cute, endearing even, not knowing that a ball of fury dropped at the center of her gullet. she’d find them, watch them, seeing how pretty the could be in the sight of your vision, knuckles whitening as she fought the urge to pound them in the center of their face. she wanted to watch them bleed from their noses or see the vessels of their eyes pop. she wanted to see them scared, she wanted them to know who she was and what you were to her. she hadnt though, she needed to act smart. she needed you as hers, without the interruption of any other. she asked you to be her partner in which you agreed to before she had even finished her sentence. and from then, she felt confident. she was yours and you were hers.

slowly, her true colors showed. the gentle shade of what you thought was her color was now a red. the anger she always had within came to the surface. her obsessive desire played in the form of her words and the tone of her voice and the pounds of her thrusts. she fucked you like she hated you, yelled at you like she despised you, touched you like she loved you. the fear of losing her bottled you up and made you sick to the point of missing multiple days from work, calling her over and over just for her to sit and stare at her phone as if she wanted to teach you a lesson only for her to be two buildings down. she needed to keep tabs, it was her own obligation. her questioning on your friends were now more rough and irritable, hating the smile she sought out for from first meet and only wanting it directed at her.

she took pictures, so many of them. polaroids hung on the chipped wall of her art room that she finally let you see, noticing her odd behavior and interest in you was a tad more than normal. her artwork had been of you, the blotches of blues, reds and yellows implementing how she felt in that very moment her brush slashed the canvas. it would’ve been smart to stop whatever was happening between you both but you were too far gone. you couldn’t get enough of her. she was just that good… just that additive… just that possessive. she owned your mind and your body and all the red flags that screamed for release had been scribbled away by the dull tip of her sketching pencil.

you said sorry so many times and she yelled… so many fucking… times.

her fingers vibrating deep into your cavern, it’s tips prodding devilishly in your walls, grunting all the names of people who called you pretty, telling you that you were hers and hers only. her tongue slivered down into your throat, singing her sensual cry as she pleaded you to never leave. ellie was a piece of work, and you couldn’t find all the pieces to her shattered vase but you still tried to tape it all together instead of using glue. she was too stubborn, too headstrong to be controlled, to be tamed.

you fell in love with her nonetheless. framing her devotion to you like a golden plaque. you loved how her pupils dilated when she stared at you, no matter how angry or how lustful they may have looked. she asked you why you were so happy even though her face stood at a permanent scowl, though she had a shadow rimming around her aura, red like crimson, hot like hell, you’ve fallen for the landscape of the scattered freckles that dotted on her cheeks and down her neck. it was bittersweet, the push and pull and dull ruinous bickering of unwarranted jealousy. you spoke like broken lovers, bodies in a celestial light fated to be doomed if only you hadn’t been so blind.

the collision of her character had you in an awe, not wanting to miss a second of hypocrisy knowing that if she told you her eyes color was brown though they were green, you’d believe her. you yearned to be close to her, trusting her rage as if that was what love was. no one has ever made you feel as alive as she had. no one made you feel as pretty as she did. you’d think of the times she made love to you, her legs intertwined with yours as her cunt rolled down onto yours, lips feathering around your ankle as she moaned her addiction towards you. you gave into her, bucking your hips into hers, needing her warmth as close as possible, needing to be inside her flesh and wear it like that brown coat she bought the first time she locked eyes with you. you were enticed with her spanks and the sting that lingered against your flesh. how her nimble fingers clenched around your throat, growling at how good your pussy felt and how pretty you looked wearing fear and arousal. you were infested with the hallucinations of her far from perfect personality, hearing the misplaced strings and untuned guitar— no matter what she played and how she played it, it felt right. she was perfect.

one argument led to separation, planned successfully as she distanced herself for weeks in which you thought was the final end. all messages that were scent had been read from her, as well as every call was denied. she thought you were fucking your coworker— the busty older woman who often brought cookies, calling all youthful people ‘baby’ as a welcoming gesture. she saw how she touched your shoulder and how you giggled at her jokes. her jaw clenched and her eyebrows stayed knitted as she thought of the worst even though in the back of her mind she knew how pathetically in love you were with her.

you missed her and you wanted her. you missed the smell of her college, the stench of weed and the sight of her breasts and how they fit so perfectly in your hands. you missed her smile and her boyish style of clothes you’d hold onto in the dead of the night.

she gave in, asking you to come over since her roommate was going to be gone for the weekend to stay over a family’s house for something she didn’t mention. you agreed a second after you viewed the text, pleading your manager to leave early that worked in your favor.

it was cold in her apartment, the thin white curtains washing like a quiet wave against the glow of the sun that sunk through— it’s beams coloring the floor orange and yellow like one of her gouache palettes. no light had been turned on, relying on the autumns afternoon sunset to bounce off the depth of her cheeks and the green of her irises. she exhaled a heavy breath and then came a thin film of bitter smoke escaping from her nostrils, brushing at the upper of her lip. you stared at her, inhaling it’s stench you hated but loved coming from her. your eyes glassy as you felt this would be the absolute end of what you and ellie had transpired and what ellie planned all along.

“so.” she sighed, “ya gonna tell me why you look like you’re about to cry?” her voice deep and empty of empathy, yet it sounded so sexy the way it croaked from her throat.

“i don’t want to lose you.” you choked, nearly letting the tear fall down your cheek.

“stop fucking up.”

“im trying.” you admitted, not knowing what you should do or what could’ve been done to prevent her from being so angry.

“you’re mine you know that? all those people who try can’t get to you. do you understand that?” her body now turning towards you. strand of her auburn hair running in between her eyes, “no one has what you and i have… no one can take that away… they don’t have the chance, the willpower, the ability to be me and anyone who has any fragment of what i am. im the only one you need… im the one who loves you. who can fuck you better than any woman could ever… face it. i know you know it.”

you stared at her, eyes staggering as you gulped every word she spat which felt like a lump struggling to be let down. her words was harsh and rough like a midwinter breeze. she was so beautiful to you, your pupils must’ve formed hearts knowing that ellie viewed you in a way that made you feel like a prize. it was true, she was better than any girl you’ve ever been with— she kissed you and no matter how long you’ve been without, you could taste the mint chapstick left over the skin of your lips.

“im all yours… no one else’s.” you breathed, “only yours ellie.” loving the way her voice sounded in your cry.

her unoccupied hand slid against your burning hot cheek. she kissed you. the lust that was now heightened is so desperately trying to be held with a simple press of lips. such an innocent kiss, with now her lips moving and yours following. sounds of cupped kisses as your lips shyly mold in with one another— her head tilting to it’s side, nose tickling against the side of yours. it picked up its pace, drowning in the movement of her tempo, finding yourself in the center of her bed.

your body quivered involuntarily under ellie’s touch, hovering you with her toned arms beside your head. the familiar bliss of her invading your personal bubble taking you by complete astonishment, a pleasant one at that. your tongue swirled around in her mouth, tasting the bitter flavor left on her taste buds, her mouth with much more expertise and experience, you’d known she was a woman of many hidden talents— your mind was fuzzy and floating to a graceful blur as your oxygen wholly snatched itself from your lungs. pulling away momentarily, an obvious string of saliva connected both of your swollen lips as eyes met, she was about to speak again yet found no need in words when the language of your bodies expressed the heat of this very moment too perfectly. she licked your lips, like a cat steadily lapping water, inhaling the bottom of your lip heating the familiar hum of her moan.

each suck, she looked at you, studying the way your lashes flickered open, chest heaving as she gave you a look of massive incredulity whilst shaking her head as a small fit of giggles escaped her mouth, silently snaking her hand around your throat. her knee pressed in between your legs, grinding down at it’s jean as her lips feathered yours, watching you roll your hips.

“such a pretty baby…” she murmured.

infested with carnality, day and night. ellie’s mind couldnt escape; as if it was the horrid and angry deep sea, crashing against the softness of the hot sand, in need of something to fix prurience, her wants which was you. to be fair, it was noticeable how you both operated whenever with each other. you wanted her just as badly as she wanted you. anyone could just sense it, feel it, cut it in the thickening air of their razor nails. the body languages, the way you both spoke, the way your eyes stared extreme intent.

“ellie…” you purred, hand riding along the dip of her shoulder blade, hands finding its way in her warm strands.

she called your name back.

the tingling sensation rose within your body, almost electrifying your whenever you heard your name being called from those pretty pale red lips. just thinking about her got you so worked up— altering her breathing, letting it become staggered and desperate.

she drew her eyebrows together at any given second you felt pleasure from her knee as if she could feel what you felt. just from your voice alone made her want to pin you down, even through the phone at every nightly phone call whenever she wasn’t angry, or when you both met… it took everything in her to tame herself and not pounce onto you. yet her eyes didn’t lie— how they looked at a squint, with a devilish dark aura, taking in each and every time you’d fumble over your words which made her blush a bright shade of red.

the air was hot and heavy despite the chill from the window, “ride it..” she grunted, moving along your grinds, feeling the heat weave through your pants onto hers. she’d slip in words she knew you’d like, calling you her ‘good girl’ from time to time. it never failed to make you shrivel up. ‘so pathetic’, she thought, enjoying you and your weak ability to hold yourself together around her. how would you manage if she used you as a plaything, diving deep into her demented mind and make you body feel disgusting as well as beautiful. would you be ready for that? she’s already given you a taste.

“you… make me… want to use you, like you’re nothing… but fuck you like you’re everything.” the words coming out slurred and meaningful. her eyes gulping the color of your eyes. she moved her body, you whining at the empty feeling of her knee. leveling her face at your legs, she pressed kisses starting at your ankle and to your knee, moving her lips as her tongue would peak through, letting spit form and absorb in your jean until she reached your waist.

“please…” you whimpered, a smile curling at her lips, fingers making its way to undo the clasp of your pants, yanking it down which made you gasp at the sudden movement. she continued her kisses, the cold inhale of her breath washing against your skin as she pressed her lips at the lining of your underwear, to your thigh and down your calf before she ran her tongue up again meeting with the fabric of your shirt.

she pressed her face into your stomach, raising her head as it dragged all the way up your torso, inhaling the sweet smell of your detergent as well as the soap that coated your skin, until she found your neck, taking a bite without much warning— feeling the flesh sink between the spaces in her teeth. ‘so soft’, she thought, letting her lips latch and suck roughly, as she used her unoccupied hand to pull your body closer to her, resting herself in between your legs once again. her tongue rippled and rolled against the aching bitten part of your neck, popping herself off before she pressed a kiss at the hem of your ear, “am i allowed to whatever i want with you?” she whispered, raising the same joint towards her mouth and inhaling it, pressing more kisses at the side of her face, allowing its smoke to slip through each release. “am i allowed to mark you, bruise you… use my fingers to fuck you? can you be my little bitch, princess?”

“do everything to me ellie…”

her eyes dilated, feeling her stomach drop at hearing her name being called yet again. something about it, drove absolutely her mad and it only was because of your voice— so gentle and sweet, whining out for her, calling out to her. oh were you not the cutest little thing she’s ever seen. you was her meat, the body that will now feel the pain and pleasure of her love, slinging you around like a dumb little doll.

cocking an eyebrow, her face glared at you, as if she hated your guts which wasn’t the case. images popped in her head of many ways she can fuck you up, to turn this ‘innocent’ being into a sobbing mess. this was the opportunity she yearned for, and possibly you did to.

the contrast from her just staring at you to her hurriedly hanging the joint at her lips, sliding her hand into her pants pocket and grabbing you by the throat, turning you around and yanking you into her embrace. your back against her chest with the hand that was on your throat, now in her pocket, coming out with a shiny object in hand— it was a pocket knife, made of real silver, etched with thorns and roses at its wooden handle. she placed it in front of your face, hearing the loud sound as her thumb allowed its blade to show, “so much trust in me… you could be in danger you know.” her joint dangling as she spoke, smoke puffing at almost each word while her body pushes closer into yours.

“i could really hurt you, you know?” her voice dark, demented and laced with a smile, the tip of the blade now at your neck, pressing it into your skin, just enough to feel it’s point but not go through the first layer of your skin. “…but look at you, such a dumb… pretty little girl, wanting me to fuck you, like you’re worth nothing but the dirt underneath my shoes.” it came clear, by the sound of her voice that it was full of hunger, the deep breaths in between her words, the groan that vibrated in her throat, her hips, grinding against your backside.

she dragged the knife down, gasping at the indention of your skin from the blade, wondering how you’d react if a bead of blood were to splash on the silver blade and run down your neck, as if a beast bit you. she knew how much you idolized her and she took advantage of that.

abruptly, she let the side of her blade rest at the bottom of your jaw, making you lift your head a little higher, maybe as a reflex or a safety mechanism— either way it didn’t matter. taking the joint from her lips and cooing in your ear, making your body sway left and right, hearing the awkwardly loud shift in clothes rubbing against each other.

“you’re mine.”

you breathed heavily, not knowing that ellie had this side to her. maybe you’ve always seen it. the way she fucked you in the past was some reflection towards it. she had this glimmer of danger that rose your orgasm to serendipity.

“say it.” she whispered, her nose dragging along your cheek, sighing out a moan. “say. it…”

“im yours…” you exhaled.

“no… no no no… louder. say it… say it louder.” her words breathless, letting open mouthed kisses to gently press onto your skin.

“im yours ellie!”

she wanted your underwear off, loving how quick you were to obey. she decided to help you a little by quickly using her knife and angling it with its cloth, slicing its side and letting the loud sound of her blade fill the quiet room, exposing your cunt, having her blade rest yet again at your neck.

“mmh… what a good girl.” laughing sinisterly. she began to draw lightly with the blade with some pressure on the flesh of your neck, before she pushed the tip a little harder into your skin, seeing a pretty bubble of ruby crimson form. she tended to it quick, seeing the blood run so prettily down your soft skin as she latched her lips onto it, sucking sloppily. you tasted so sweet, just as she imagined. pulling back she had slight remnants of your blood against her lips, with the slow run of the blood form at the small pierce at your neck.

“why must every part of you taste so good? do you know why, princess…? answer me… you know i love your voice… i could… i could just cum hearing it.” her face still close to your neck, spreading her tongue onto the wound again and letting it drag up your skin to your cheek, mixing your blood and her spit. “don’t worry, ill fuck you fairly quickly, i just like to play with my treasures, that’s all.”

you didn’t know if it was the nerves or the fact that she had full advantage of your body but something made you close your eyes shut and prepare yourself for what was about to happen. you were ashamed to admit how excited you were and how you’d let her do anything she wanted even if she were to hurt you more than she already did. ellie intimidated you. you felt as if you made one wrong move, she’d ruin you and you were willing. arousal and fear is what coursed through your body and you craved more. you’ve never felt so alive, the adrenaline puddling all throughout.

her taunting words went straight to your head went your clit. you were in pure bliss. you kept backing your hips against her crotch loving how she rutted against your ass. you felt like a needy whore and it made your gut bubble with embarrassment.

letting go of your body, she witnessed how weak you were as you fell down onto the bed. the steps of her shoes colliding with the floor as she walked around the perimeter of the bed, inhaling her loved smoke, watching you, grinding into the bed’s comforter like an art piece in a gallery. she laughed, a playful type giggle that made her throw her head back and bend at the knees until she met with your face, “oh baby… look at you… i barely touched you and you already look… like… this.” pointing at you with the knife, twirling it by it’s handle.

“i dont… it’s cause… youre… you’re…”

“awe baby… you’re stuttering… ellie doesn’t understand you, speak up. i know how loud you can get… come on pretty, speak up for me. use those lips like you use them to suck on my clit…”

leveling at eye contact, she inhaled and blew the hazing smoke at your face, extending her tongue and pressing its burning end against it, hearing it sizzle out. flicking it somewhere in the room. she still held her tongue out, showing the left over ash on it before swallowing. gripping your head, she yanked it from where it lay, your lips already ajar, abruptly spitting her marijuana taste into your mouth. “you look pretty disgusting.” the last word coming out as a snarl.

“isn’t this room so pretty…” her eyes scanning around listening to your whimpers, “maybe we should paint it red?” broadcasting the same knife that she used her before. “lay on your back.” you listened.

with her now in front of your knees, without a thought she pressed the blade against your thigh, letting its tip prod at your skin, running it down but not too deep, she always remembered that. blood started to pour from its light mark and she immediately started to kiss it, her lips coating themselves with a more pigmented color. she sucked as if he was hungry, savoring the sweet and metallic taste of your blood. using her other hand, spreading your legs further apart and seeing your wet slick expand and bubble.

the blade now barely glazing your skin, fell at your crotch, pressing it against your clit as she drew it up and down, your eyes withering at how cold the blade had been. “do you see that?” she laughed, seeing how your slick started to coat the silver.

she pressed a kiss from the mark of your all the way up onto your pubic bone as she stared at you with amusement, taking the knife away and setting it down beside you on the bed. your body twitched and turned, the tingling sting from your neck and thigh throbbing and wrapping it’s pain in a form of pleasure.

“what fun would it be, if i were the only one to taste?” she crawled on top of you, hand first pressing onto the seeping blood at your thigh, letting it slide against you. her fingers lightly covered, pressing the pads of them to your lips in which you wrapped your mouth around. it was gentle, sucking them in a bobbing motion as you took in your own taste— one that ellie fell drunk for. she couldn’t help herself, the view of you was too much, she let her lips press against yours in an opened mouth kiss, her tongue prodding it’s way into your mouth— she moved her lips slowly, humming a sweet hum into your throat. she never wasted a second to devour you within a kiss, using her time to play and tease you.

pulling back she saw the strings of spit connect both of your swollen lips, admiring at the fact that you didn’t interject her ways. you’re so pretty, she admired you, patting your face with loving stroke before slapping your cheek without a say, her moans mixing in with your shock. “oh god i love the way you react to me.”

she loved to see how you took her infliction— the facial expression, the sounds, any source of feedback, she’d take and cherish. with the way that your body talked to her, it showed how weak you allowed to portray yourself. your body spread and sunken into the puffed comforter. the sound of her breathing, in need of air but too focused on the richness of the blood and spit that smeared on your lips. her tongue tasting sweet with its intoxicating spit, sucking viscously on the flesh of your bottom lip, pulling it back.

“you’re insane…” your words wore heavy on her ears, unable to hide the smile that formed on her lips. the sound so small, weakened but clear. you was turned on and your slick seeped out from your cavern. you gave the same look with those bright doe eyes just like the first time ellie sucked your pussy. those pretty eyes stared and pierced her right in her chest. with your ability to take the pain that you were receiving, continuing to let her destroy you, that gave her the feeling of pure delight, fueling her egotistical mindset that settled itself with anger, desire and eroticism. her body burned, like the room had set itself on fire and it’s flame feathering against her skin— your body heat and hers combining into one making beads of sweat litter her forehead.

“oh… i know.” admitted that at times she indeed was. ellie was one to fall deep when it came to pleasuring activities, and most of the time it’s focused in a conjoined thing, other times only purely for your enjoyment— wanting you to concave into her submission, believe her stalkerish ways was natural and that whatever she did was right, not wrong.

the use of her knife and how deep she let it cut, she knew that the scar would stay longer than it should. the bite on your neck will bruise with a pretty mixture of deep shades red while your body would paint itself with delicate darkened browns from the force of her hands grabbing and slapping. you were now her canvas— an artist starved for her creation, her light, her venus.

the dark haired woman lifted herself up, her body now situated between your spread legs as she took a good look at the figure that lay before her.

fear. want. dread. attraction. panic. admiration.

oh yes, this is she wanted, this is what she wanted to see. “my pretty girl, my stupid little bitch.” her voice playful like a drunken woman full of giggled joy. taking off her shirt, she exposed her top half, her hardened nipples poking from her small breasts. she started to take off both her jeans and boxers which then showed her full body. her wet slick dripping slowly from her, dribbling down her leg, as her clit twitched.

“are you ready for me, angel? do you want my pussy against you?” she asked. you nodded. “i want to make your pussy so sloppy… feel it squirt… or maybe even cream against my clit. i want to hear it baby, will you let me? hmm…? is this pussy mine? is this pretty cunt mine?”

you could see the hair sticking to her forehead and the sides of her neck, the tips of her fingers rubbing up in between your folds. you gasped, hands holding onto the sheets, lifting your head as you looked at the way the veins bulged prettily at her hand and forearm.

“my pussy is yours…”

“that’s a good girl..” her slapping your pussy, purposefully aiming for her clit, the sting rummaging through your body. “im going to fill you up and make you so full of cum it’ll make you go brain dead.”

the beat of her heart, pounding against her chest and her fingers twitched against your cunt, gathering spit and letting its liquid fall down on it. the amount of eagerness ellie had was considerably concerning. at any given moment, she would probably pass out from the adrenaline— like her insides were overworking themselves, and that was proof it wasn’t going to die out any time soon.

she slapped it again, her spit splattering. “oh baby… look at how cute your pussy is when i slap it… how it moves.” in awe at how it jiggled cutely, slapping again and again, watching your wet cunt shake. “my pretty pussy… look at it…fu…ck…” her voice staggering as he pulled up your clit head with her thumb and letting strings of spit fall down onto it, mixing itself with your juices.

her unoccupied fingertips pressed themselves in her thighs, sliding them down just enough for a little of his nail to scrape against the blood coated flesh. the hand placed at your cunt found it’s way into your opening, starting with one, then a second. her wrist tightened as she thrusted up into you, your back arching at the pace she went. your pussy squelched, it’s sound loud and disgusting. the sounds of your moans bounced against the bedroom walls, feeling her fingers being gripped each time she’d thrust them outwards.

“come on baby… feel me.” she grunted.

she didn’t stop, she couldn’t stop. her knuckles deep, her fingers curled, hungry in the bliss that she shared. the quickening of your orgasm greeted you with intensity, your toes curling as your stomach hallowed at every moan. “it feels so good… it feels so good… it feels so fucking good.”

the tips of her curling fingers rutting at your good spot, your body tensing at how she abused your pussy so good, a warm wash fell at the start of your insides then all over your body as you squeezed yourself against her fingers, a splash of your squirt pooling and falling every time her fingers fell outward, “squirt on my fucking fingers baby, that’s a good fucking girl.” it fell everywhere, staining the bed with a light white ring wrapping around her knuckles.

slipping her fingers out, she quickly placed them in her mouth, sucking the leftover cum you gifted her as your body shook from its orgasm.

she didn’t wait, she didn’t care to. her bottom half hovered yours, a leg wrapping above your thigh as she angled her cunt on top of your sloppy one. whirling her hips around, she felt the flowery skin of your labia and clit kiss hers, a loud guttural moan escaping her mouth.

her hips moved, grinding against your cunt with conviction as your body jerked with each movement. you loved this, how nasty you felt at all the liquids that had been mixed all over your skin.

she grabbed the knife that lay lonesome on the bed, grabbing your shirt as she let it pierce through, gripping it and tearing it apart just to see your breasts that she loved so much. the point of the blade cascading lightly over your nipples and stomach, loving it’s gleam that reflected off your skin. she angled it at your lips, brushing it as you moaned against it, “lick it.”

carefully, you ran your tongue along it’s side, sliding in your mouth and letting it reappear as you pulled back. ellie groaned, a monstrous one that made her feel like her insanity was one with yours. you did it without question. the danger of her hips fucking up into yours, taking her knife as if it had been her fingers, cleaning the small dried blood that rested at its point.

“goddamn.” ellie breathed, moving herself to now her face and body was angled just above you, your legs spread and her lower half squatting. her thrusts rippled, the flesh of your clit and the poke of your bud colliding with hers as the knife now aimed at the underside of your neck. “fuck im gonna cum, let me fill your pussy baby… feel it… take it… fuck... fuck!” she announced, the pit of her stomach fuzzed as she squeezed the pleasure from her lower half, a spray of her squirt gushing from where you both connected.

“oh fuck!” you cried, shaking at the overstimulation and the wetness of her squirt, the wet pounds of her cunt mixing in with the hungry moans you both let out.

it didn’t take long for another orgasm to form, her hand gripping your cheeks as she made you watch her speak in the form of her moans. your eyes rolled back, the sting of knife pressing slightly deeper as you lay limp, cumming once again. “good girl… good fucking girl, cum on my pussy… just like that.”

it last long, unable to grasp the fact that it felt so good. “i love cumming…” you cried pathetically, “i love how you make me cum…”

“good endure it…” her hips now slowing itself down. she set the knife beside you both, pressing her lips against your moaning one’s, “you’re mine. your body… it shows that now… look it all the marks ive given you..”

“im yours ellie… only yours.”

“good girl.”

#lesbian #sapphic #wlw #tlou #ellie tlou #the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie x masc reader #the last of us ellie #the last of us smut

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 8 months

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Rook Hunt - "Right Where You Need Him"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which you're trying on some new clothes you just bought from a newly opened boutique with Epel and you seem to need a safety pin. Or; In which Rook Hunt is quite literally one call away, whenever you need him, he'll be there in a heartbeat, just for you.

🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷

"Okay, okay— What about this one?"

You ask Epel as you hold a brooch to you chest with one hand, unable to clip it into place due to the lack of pin on the back.

"It's real nice, but it'd be better if ya didn't hafta hold it like that"

The purple haired boy hummed as he pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger in thought.

You look off to the side in thought for a moment before an Idea struck you. Turning to your window, you pull it open and poke your head out, taking in a deep breath.

"Rook! C'mere for a sec!"

You called out the window, voice raised only just a bit despite the fact that no one seems to be there besides you and Epel.

Then suddenly there's a rustling in the trees and a figure appears before the window. Lo and behold it's Rook. He props his elbows on the windowsill and gives you a kind smile.

"You called, Mon Ami?"

He coos, fluttering his lashes at you as he awaits your reply.

You giggle at his antics for a second before you grab the brooch that you had set down to open the window. Turning back to the blonde, you gently place it in his hand, cheeks warming as your fingers brush over his gloves palm.

"I just bought this brooch, but there's no pin on the back, so I can't wear it. Do you think you can fix it?"

You ask him shyly, unconsciously curling a loch of hair around your finger.

The hunter hums, turning the brooch around in his hand to observe it better. Rubbing a gloved thumb across the smooth surface of the back of the brooch in thought, he nods after a moment.

"Of course... Yes, of course I can fix it, Ma Proie. But... Ah... Might I be selfish and ask something in return?"

Rook asks playfully, figiting with the accessory in his hand.

You beam at him, catching the blonde off guard, as you take his larger hands into your own. The sparkles blooming in your eyes in joy bring a dusting of pink to the hunter's cheeks. You're so cute.

"A‐ah... No worries, Mon Cher. I'm only teasing; it's free of charge, just for you."

Rook coos, stuttering a bit before slipping a hand from your grasp to caress your cheek.

"Oi! 'M still here!"

🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷•♡•🧷

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

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zombieunicornjewelry · 3 months

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"Whenever I walk it's purgatory" brooch

#handmade #polymer clay #brooch #gothic #victorian #dark aesthetic #dark fantasy #warewolf #howling #beast #crying #etsy store #etsy #small business #one of a kind

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pillowdrawz · 1 year

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Rise leo Rising.

Basically since us Fandom agreed Rise leo Looks like Master splinter aka Hamato yoshi.

And you know who got triggered? When they see Hamato Yoshi. face Shredders.

This scenario The other leos would be ignoring rise leo theres a prompt On tumblr basically saying the other leos would Ignored him like. "Not now leon" , "can you be serious?", "leon where talking" ( and to my opinion Rise casey jr Would lose respect to the other leos if he saw how They treat Rise leo)

AND FOR ME RISE LEO WOULD SHOW HE IS A GREAT AND POWERFUL LEADER. Screw being depress hes been through enough he would show how great he is.

So Rise splinter to cheer up his son and possibly gloat him, Splinter gave Rise leo a solo mission the mission "kick many villains as possible".

Rise leo in his cloaking brooch cause to blend in HE accidentally stumble upon The Shredders meeting different kinds and The Shredders have ONE Familiar face that haunts them forever that is Hamato YOSHI.

And who have a Human Dna resembles Their Father and basically a copy paste? RISE LEO.

Theres the prompt.

Also Rise leo kick ass btw He stole some parts of any shredders armor any kind arm, so Mission complete lol. He didn't defeat them more like weakens them or to make the Shredders have more ptsd than ever.

This is also POST RISE MOVIE AFTER RISE MOVIE RISE LEO KICK ASS, I HEARD THERES A THEORY THAT RISE LEO IS THE MOST POWERFUL AND DANGEROUS ONE WHEN DRAXUM CREATED THE TURTLES.. but thanks to Splinters love The turtles change or... so they thought :).

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ghouljams · 5 months

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And of course, Witch does notice him. She probably kind of hates him at first for always disrupting her prayers with his languid, confident footsteps as he enters her house under the guise of asking for a very specific remedy. She hates the way her stomach twists every time she sees his rugged face. She hates the way her mind goes blank for a second when his soft, yet commanding voice echoes in her ears.

And she despises how she can’t help but silently gush at every single one of his gifts. How she always puts them in places she just knows she will always see them, and how comforting their sight is. How she feels her gaze soften even just a little bit when he breathes a sigh of relief as she bandages his wounds an massages his sore muscles. How her shoulders suddenly feel heavy with worry every time he tells her he is about to leave for another expedition, barely managing to steel her voice when she tells him to come back in one piece (after all, it’s always a nightmare to rummage through the heavy northern snow to find the ingredients needed to take care of big injuries). How she immediately goes to ask the Gods to watch over him, her hands clutching the necklace he once gifted her.

And, most of all, she loathes the way she loves him, her mind distracting her with many thoughts of him when she has to tend to her duties. She is down bad, and he is too. It’s only a matter of time before they both crumble in each other’s arms under the delectable tension these feelings weave in between them.

Just a little headcanon. Mii is inspired. We love characters who can fit in multiple AUs.

Mii do you wanna just take over for me because holy shit. I literally sat up and rolled my shoulders let's fucking go, I gotta write some fic, I'm inspired but I don't think I can match that because GOD. The mutual pining.

There are small things you do to prepare for men to come home. There are big things too, of course, you bind winds with your staff, you ask the gods for protection, you bless the wives with their husband's safe return. But the small things... You change out the furs you wear, return the silky pelts to their usual hanging place so you don't seem too fond of the man that gifted them. The same with your buckles, your brooches, your necklace. You twist a thin silver band around your finger, like a branch from a willow tree it always strikes you as too delicate to come from a viking. There's no filigree to it, not stones, no patterns, it's simple and well loved.

You do these small things because you loathe the man they represent. He's a distraction from your duties, he clouds your judgement, pulls the spirits from you. He watches you with such bare affection in his eyes that you wonder how it would be to be his wife. How it would feel to wake up every morning to those hands cradling you. Only to have him leave you, the same way he always does.

The gods whisper to you as you sit in front of their alter. Dissonant, clouded by the spirits that guard their realm. Chills wrack your body, your mind far away, drifting through the different planes searching for some new prophecy or vision that might keep your man somewhere closer. (They come to you in dreams, and tell you of new lands, new people, force you on to the elders and tell them to send out a party. You'll never be free of this awful wanting.)

The spirits pull your head back, arch your back painfully to look at the intruder in your temple. "You're always in such a rush to get back here," They tell him, voices overlapping, "is she really so special to you?"

"Of course," Price breathes, his shoulders heaving to compensate for his run to the temple from the shore. His feet carrying his heavy body to stand behind you, what are a few steps when you're at the end of them? He watches as you jerk forward and spit henbane seeds from your mouth, coughing and sucking in breaths to shake the trance. He crouches, his hands reaching for your shaking form. Völva don't live long if there's no one to care for them. It's the spirits, the elders say, no living creature can hold the dead without joining them a little each time.

Your fingers scrape the floor, nails digging into the wood and furs that surround the alter. Hands touch your back, familiar enough to make you shiver and tip your head to look at the man you always send so far away from you.

"Welcome back," He tells you, his voice so soft it feels like a blow. You look away from him, fix your eyes on the carved wood of Freyja's statue.

"I should be telling you that."

Price hums, his hands leave you. It's freezing without their warmth. You're frozen without his warmth, doomed to this until it takes you the way it takes every völva. Stuck, until Hel calls you home. You hate this man, you shouldn't love him the way you do. He shouldn't entertain your affections the way he does. He shouldn't encourage them.

"I brought you something." His furs rustle behind you as you collect yourself. You hear the leather cord of a pouch open and you sit up with a sigh. When he doesn't follow up or press anything into your hands you turn to ask him what he's brought. He presses a berry against your lips and like a fool you take it. It's a slightly bitter burst on your tongue, crushed gently by your teeth into something almost sweet. You eye the pouch in his hands, the bright red and orange berries inside. You feel yourself soften a little, smiling when you meet his affectionate stare.

"Rowan berries," You half ask, your voice feels lighter, gentler, "Thank you." It sticks like a knife in his chest. Something so simple makes you look at him like that, like coming home. Gods what he wouldn't do for you.

He's never seen you use any of his other gifts, doesn't even know if you've kept them. Price had thought something edible would go over well, easier to make sure you were satisfied with it. You reach for another berry out of the bag, the thin strip of silver around your finger glinting in the firelight. His ring. The first thing he'd gifted you, when he'd been overcome by the need to have any foothold in your life. You look up at him through your lashes, pop another red berry in your mouth with a questioning hum.

"Are you alright?" You ask, deft fingers reaching to inspect him, "You're not injured are you?" The concern in your voice might kill a weaker man, surely no one can hold up under your care. Not when you look at them like that.

"No," Price chokes out, gritting his teeth as your fingers brush his skin, "No injuries to report, we've got a healer now so-"

"You don't need me?" You smile when you say it, like a joke, but there's sorrow in your eyes. Price can't stop himself from cupping your face, your soft skin under his rough hand is intoxicating. It makes his heart clench painfully. Can't you see he's trying to ease your burden? Are you truly so wrapped up in völva that you've lost sight of any other value you might have?

"What would I do without you sweetheart?" He whispers. There's a pain in your eyes he can't name. It hurts to see you turn away from his hand. To see you smooth your hands over your dress as you stand, offer him your hand to help him up. You smile, some mask closing off your eyes from him.

"Well, we might as well go and greet the men," You pull on your duties like a well worn cloak, more völva than person when you pluck your staff from the ground, "do our jobs for the elders."

It's a reminder to both of you. The spirits aren't the only ones that keep their eyes on you. Price nods, and follows you out of the temple, pressing the pouch into your hands as he goes.

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comfortless · 2 months

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what if König does see his knight being more ladylike? or maybe even in a dress? sorry they’re just so cute i love this au lol

you are never getting her into a gown… not ever.

except at a special event (:..?

There’s a summons for König and the lady knight to attend a ball. At the castle, no less. The sheet of parchment dents weighty in her hand as she tugs it free from the message board at the center of town— a list of names, hers and König’s included; quite high, too, above even dukes and duchesses from foreign kingdoms and a wonderful knight who had braved an attempted siege and won the King victory.

It makes no sense… they’re essentially hired thieves, roaming through caverns of filth filled with the dead, stealing what’s never been their own and never will belong to them for profit. There’s no honor in their work, despite the way she puffs her chest in pride and so often declares that one of these expeditions will earn her a seat at the royal table.

Still… they had retrieved that object for the Queen, and it seemed the materialistic royalty deemed that well and good enough to consider them worthy.

König is unperturbed— he’s never been one for these formal affairs, dressing up in a tight fitting suit of ruffled fabric, chest adorned with a shimmering brooch and his blade kept tucked away far out of reach. His knight on the other hand… Her face is practically glowing, he’s never seen her smile so wide or so sweetly.

Of course… she doesn’t have some silky gown to her name, only cold steel and endless straps… not even a proper corset. König can’t help but notice her pout when they begin to prepare. Though he thinks she’s pretty, perfect even as battle-worn she is, it’s clear she wants to be more so as she stares longingly out of the window of the inn at all of the beautiful ladies riding on horseback to approach the castle gates, their gowns each as intricate and immaculate as the braids and curls and lengths of their hair.

He doesn’t get it- he’ll just go in his normal clothes, but like any proper suitor would do… he buys her a gown from the tailor a few buildings past the inn. The most expensive one he can get his paws on with the hoard of gold they collected from their last adventure. (Who knew slaying a few reanimated skeletons to give a cursed femur and jaw bone to an old witch could count as a job?!)

The dress is certainly… tailored to his preferences: it’s a lacy thing, dyed a shimmering bluish gray, creamy lace trims along the cuffs and hems, the collar dipping down into a ‘v’ to properly frame her tits. He didn’t expect it to be any lovelier than what his imagination supplies when she does put it on, and yet he finds himself utterly stifled by the sight.

He’s seen her nude, pawed at and groped her hundreds of times, but as she stands before him shyly lifting the dress at her hips and glancing at the wall, the floor, anywhere except from directly at him… his pulse begins to race. Of course, he picks her up and buries his face against her neck, whispering about how pretty she is, how much he adores every new side of her, and promptly ruins it by detailing how he would like to tug her laces loose with his teeth later in the evening after the dancing is all over. She shoves him away, hissing like a startled kitten but he’s certain she casts him a little smirk the moment that he does relax his grip.

The ball is no less extravagant than she had expected. Food and luxury wine adorn every table: cheeses, fresh baked bread, smoked meats and pies, fruit of many kinds, and the wine all sweet and bitter and so very unlike the thick mead that burns as it goes down that they’re accustomed to. The dresses, the elaborate dances, the beautiful sounds of music feathering through the air- all of it. She even gets to drink from a goblet made of silver, and her eyes light up when a servant fills it to the brim.

König despises it all.

He tucks himself away, flooding himself with food and the few gilded pitchers of actual ale he’s managed to threaten a servant into retrieving. He notices the eyes on her always, as she dances with the other ladies and smiles adoringly over at him each time their eyes meet. Her grace translates well here from battle, each step taken with some extracted precision that she’s learned from flailing her blade around in the darkness… her partners giggle against her ear as they curl their arms around her, many adrift to either side waiting for a turn.

It’s only when a man does approach his lady knight that König’s had enough. She’s tipsy and far too cute, stands out like pure treasure amongst this adoring flock, and the bastard’s eyes are on her breasts when he asks her to dance. The other man is yanked back by his scruff and tossed to the marble floor, eliciting startled gasps and even… some sweet sighs from the women surrounding as they fawn over how romantic it must be that a brute like him wouldn’t allow another man near her.

His knight only smiles at him when he leads her away, out of the grand hall and down the corridors of the castle until they find themselves before a window that seems to overlook the entire kingdom. The music still plays, the voices still chatter, but they’re all muffled and subdued someplace far away… and König only feels the world seem to come to a grinding halt when she asks him to dance with her here.

He doesn’t have the same tact or skill as the others when he moves: swaying her in a grip like iron ‘round her waist, dipping with her when her back arcs that almost leaves his face flush with her chest. It’s clumsy at best, far less flowery and sweet than when she danced with the other women, but he tries his best to not entirely ruin her night— unaware that she’s far too drunken and giddy to care. She wouldn’t have batted an eye if he had snapped that man’s neck, if only he rewarded her patience with a dance like this.

They meld together, a perfect fit when she stands on his boots and drapes her arms around his neck to press her chin to his chest. The frolic comes to a quiet end as they whisper back and forth about what happens next, after tonight. When the sun rises and they’re back on their feet… He swears to her that they’ll buy a horse, subtly hints that the offer to settle will always be present and she only shushes him with a kiss, one that she laughs into as she tastes the ale on his tongue.

Those strings are, in fact, loosened by his teeth as she lies on their shared bed with him later into the evening. He traces every dip and curve of her body through the silk as he works away at relieving her of the gown, then the corset with slow, precise movements and tugs. She laughs again when he hisses praises from behind her, licks and nibbles a hot path along her skin, rests his head against the smooth flesh of her back when the corset finally lays to either side of her.

His fingertips graze from the back of her neck, to her shoulder, further along the middle of her back before he stops himself. Despite the near constant ache, this isn’t how or where he wants this done: in some rundown inn outside of the castle, her veins flooded with red wine. Instead, he only pulls her close in a cuddle, massages at her tits as she thanks him for accompanying her, for dancing with her despite his gait being more like a newborn foal than a proper stallion.

And when the moon finally reaches a peak in the night sky, her breathing slow and soft while she rests her head against his chest, he kisses the top of her head and pulls her in closer. Tells her that he likes either side of her, knight or lady it mattered not, so long as she remains at his side like this.

She nods to her own damnation, contentedly swearing her oath to him with one word, “Forever.” It comes in a soft murmur, eyelids already fluttering as he squishes her closer against him.

#dungeoneer!könig #happy valentine’s day have some silly fluff ^^

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