Hello love! Hope you are well!
So I’ve had this cute idea for a while with AleRudy poly! Where Alejandro and their s/o spoil Rudy for a day, like make him dinner,, whatever you think lolz and then end it by both Ale and s/o spooning him?? I think it would be adorable!!
Hey there! I don't think I made this as fluffy as I could have, and for that I am truly sorry! But I tried!
Spoiling Rodolfo
I feel like he’d be surprised at first. Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t doubt the love you and Alejandro have for him one bit, but he never would have thought you’d go out of your way to spoil him this much. First you bring him breakfast in bed, essentially waking him with a kiss to each side. It was all there, French toast, eggs, orange juice. He didn’t have to lift a finger. Naturally, as he got out of bed, he’d try to make it up to you by cleaning up after himself, only for you and Alejandro to stop him from doing so, forcing him back onto the bed once again. Rodolfo would grow suspicious. Did he miss an important date? Did the both of you miss an important date? It wasn’t like it was his birthday either, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember something that you did where you had to make it up to him either. For the time being, he’d simply accept his fate. Eventually, he would get up to check up on you. And then there was the barrage of gifts. They were lovely, naturally, but what did he do to deserve them? Again, he would grow even more suspicious. From the beautiful flowers to the small stickers you stuck on him, he wouldn’t know what to do. However, he wouldn’t say something immediately. Maybe he can think of why you’re being especially nice to him himself. Were you about to get into a lot of trouble? Were you just trying to get on his good side?
Of course, Alejandro made the suggestion of going out together, spending the time outside to do whatever it is he wanted. And then came the idea of having a picnic, since it was nice and warm outside. As you went to pay for all the items, with Rodolfo already taking out his wallet, you almost tackled him to get him to put it away. Alejandro paid, even though he shouldn’t have. You were three people, and with the amount of snacks you bought it didn’t come cheap either. From a massage to a heartfelt poem from you, it all started to seem like a little too much. Again, Rodolfo doesn’t doubt the love you feel for him, but it seems a bit off. However, you wouldn’t give him a satisfying answer either when asked about it. Were you going to break up with him after all this time? Making your last day together as beautiful as possible so he had something to cry over? He hoped not, but it didn’t seem impossible with how nice you were being towards him. A kiss to the cheek, you even gave him a plushie of a small cat, claiming its silliness reminded you of him. Why on Earth would you do all of this? Why go to these lengths?
Even around dinnertime, when you wouldn’t let him help out, he almost felt a bit sad. Sure, it was nice to not have to lift a single finger for a day, but why? He loved helping out, you both knew that. He was very much an active man at home, doing what he could to keep everything clean and in order. He didn’t mind cooking for you either, pouring his heart and soul into every meal for you. Rodolfo adored doing something for you, so he wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of it all. The meal was delicious, but he felt almost sad as he was unable to help you out at least even a little bit. You watched his favorite movie with him, you took pictures of him with his silly cat plushie, hell, you would have likely spoon fed him as well on that day. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. What have the both of you been up to? He would ask you again regarding it all when you were spooning him, trapping him on either side. It would take the most embarrassing nicknames that you only use on him to calm his nerves. Something along the lines of “Hush, Rudy-Poody, can’t we show our love and appreciation for you for once? You always make us feel good, so it was time to return the favor.” and “Mi esposo, you need to have more trust in us. Sometimes we just wanna see you smile as well. Cheer up, we just wanted to spoil just once in this life.”
He’d sort of cringe at the nickname you gave him, but it was the reassurance he needed since you only ever used it when you were being especially sappy. You didn’t get in trouble again, you were simply a bunch of lovesick fools. He’d give you a kiss on the nose and a smile. However, he would also try to turn around as Alejandro was spooning him, only for the colonel to not budge in the slightest, saying that Rodolfo shouldn’t be tossing and turning like this. No kissy for Alejandro it seemed. Rodolfo was this close to just wrestling him down for that kissy. Although he can’t really get used to the feeling of being spoiled, he will accept it for just that day. He will pay the both of you back in his style, though. You will also be spoiled. He couldn’t wait to team up with one of you to spoil the third one. All three of you will have had a day like this at some point.
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a gravitational pull
Summary: Renira goes on a date with a very singular woman.
Content warnings: sensuality/making out (M)
Spoilers: None
Note: Happy Lesbian visibility week! I may not be a lesbian but Ren is and I wanted to write this for ages now but just.. didn't, so here's one for a ship that could've been, but never was. Ft Babymander Nyra.
Renira doesn’t ordinarily meddle with targets that don’t concern her current mission. The Vigil, as far as her orders go, are allies and not people whose secrets she should be focused on. A secret here and there is fine, but there is a line that the agents can’t cross. Not when there’s General Soulkeeper and Warmaster Kernsson on sight as two high ranking officers. The Warmaster, maybe, if she were daring enough to attempt to spy on him again at such a time, but the General?
She cannot risk it; not as a Lightbringer. Not when her squad relies on her in this way.
Yet when Kernsson’s pretty apprentice starts chatting her up and asks her for a date, Renira is all too quick to agree. There is no shortage of pretty women, but there is a shortage of time. Now, after that whole business with Ajax Anvilburn is done with, she can take a break for one evening. It’s nothing serious, after all.
Then again, Renira does wonder if digging up info on your date before you even go out is standard practice for anyone who isn’t of the Whispers. Probably not. Alysannyra Ainsaph’s name has popped up here and there - starting with a file in bold, red letters called the Hero of Shaemoor. She has family here in Ebonhawke. And now, apparently, she has joined the Vigil and bears the title of Crusader.
That’s where she makes herself stop. There need to be conversation topics. She cannot know everything in advance.
“Nice dress, by the way,” Alysannyra says with a slight curve to the ends of her lips. “I see you’re taking cues from the locals.” She then pauses and joins her hands before her. Her lips, full and pink, are slightly parted. “I think it suits you, personally. We’d wear it belted in Rurikton, for the waist emphasis, but it looks good like this, I think. And I think the flower I chose works well with it? As if I’d known!”
Renira takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” she says and accepts the flowers - a vibrant yellow to match the pink of her dress, just as Alysannyra said - and gently holds them in her hand. Then Alysannyra offers her a hand and off on the streets of Ebonhawke they go.
She looks good tonight. They look quite the pair, unintentionally so. The thought makes Renira smile. Nyra looks rather good in the traditional Ascalonian embroidered shirt and a jelek. The shirt is open enough to reveal her collarbones and the tightness of the vest makes her chest look pronounced. Her hair is long and loose, brushed but only barely, alternating between brown, red and blonde in the dying light of day. Her face is bare.
Renira hasn’t seen eyes as blue in a while. Or maybe the lack of romantic attention in recent times finally reared its ugly head. While not that common, blue eyes aren’t exactly a rarity either.
“Your hair changes color in the sunlight,” Renira says, by way of observation. Their footsteps fall in rhythm.
“Only the wisest of men know what my actual hair color is,” Nyra supplies, and lifts her eyebrows. “It has been foretold, certainly, that one who guesses it right will win my hand in marriage.”
“Should I keep looking then?” Renira laughs. She likes the way Nyra talks. The dryness of her humor is refreshing.
“If you like. I like to be looked at. If you guess right, you might get me to pop the question, Ascalonian style.”
“Oh? I assume your heritage allows you for more insight on that particular topic than my few months of living here does?” Renira leans in - rather, down. Nyra’s hair smells of fresh herbs.
Nyra lifts her head to meet her eyes. She holds her gaze. “I could show you, if you’d like,” she says.
Renira hums. “There is time, Nyra.” She masks the extent of the excitement the response leaves in her. Nyra is a woman of the court, and she knows the art of conversation just as well as Renira does, yet not everyone acquires the charm needed to get to be as good as it can be.
No, it’s not charm, not really. It feels like she has something of a gravitational pull that makes Renira unable to look away. The steadiness of her gaze, the warmth of her hand, scent of herbs and a hint of perfume, all coupled with her head held high, tempts Renira to bend down and kiss her then and there. When has she grown attracted to muscle on a woman? That is a new development.
Not that she minds.
Nyra’s smile is lopsided. “Enough time to squeeze a second date in?”
Renira laughs. “Maybe. If I don’t make up my mind by the end of this one.” She pulls her closer. The eye contact breaks when she snakes their fingers tighter together and runs her nails over Nyra’s knuckles. “We aren’t even at the date location yet. The night is young.”
And indeed, the sun has just set. The moon is just peeking through, an invited, observant figure to the chatter of people and their joint hands. By the end of this, Renira thinks, she could have Nyra in her bed if she wanted to. And where would the harm be, if she has a willing participant?
Nyra nods, pink in the face. “That is for you to decide, but in the meantime, I think a delicious meal awaits us.”
And the food is good, admittedly, the kind both humans and charr would enjoy. Well done meat with kajmak, chopped onion that neither of them are touching, reflections of the bright yellow flower in the little rakija bottles. Turns out Nyra isn’t a fan of it. She takes one sip, swallows like a battleworn hero she is, and places it down with all the grace of a woman of the court. Renira downs hers in one chug. Nyra lifts a brow, as if impressed.
And maybe alcohol did lower their inhibitions, but they’re kissing in a dimly lit street later, with Nyra on the tips of her toes and her hands around Renira’s shoulders. She’s a good kisser, it turns out.
“Billiard rooms,” Nyra explains in between kisses. It’s a rather silly high society excuse to stare at people’s asses and steal a kiss.
Renira slides her hands down and squeezes Nyra’s ass. She doesn’t need any overpriced rooms. “Were there any bets?” she asks, curiously. A part of her laughs, almost; is she as cocky as someone like Nyra can afford to be, to place a bet to be the best she’s ever kissed? She doesn’t voice it.
There are many things she hasn’t been able to afford herself. There’s something so very aristocratic about the way Nyra carries herself, the way she grabs attention and stamps her seal all over it. Even now, red in the face, with lips darkened by kissing and lipstick, she knows she looks good, she knows the world should be watching her.
Arrogance, Renira thinks. Arrogance that’s hardly ever faced a pushback. Arrogance that makes her want to fuck her against that very wall, in this very street. What a luxurious thing.
“Nothing that went beyond tongues,” Nyra replies after a thought. “My parents have always been of the old, Ascalonian cut.”
Renira tilts her head and licks at Nyra’s lower lip. “And you?”
Nyra looks visibly distracted for a moment. “I’ve never been to Ebonhawke before,” she says. “Is that good enough?”
“More than enough.” Enough to write in your file later. Tastes divine, is hardly in touch with where her parents came from. Looking to reconnect. Doesn’t care about the way things are done here. She places a kiss on her jaw. Nyra’s nails dig into Renira’s skin. She then kisses lower, to her exposed neck.
Then, she then feels Nyra’s hands pushing her face away from her neck. Just as Renira was about to ask to leave her a little bite. Rude, she thinks and smiles. You arrogant, rude, sexy aristocrat. You just need to be in charge. Did the world see that? Or do you keep these things to yourself?
“I know a place where we can have more privacy,” Nyra says in a voice that doesn’t invite questioning. A command wrapped in a statement, and the quietness of the tone doesn’t take anything away from its force. She slides her hand down so it rests on Renira’s hip. “It’s not that far away. Come.”
She then takes Renira’s hand and goes down the street, lipstick stains on her face and neck be damned. She walks like it all belongs to her, like she’s the queen of the fucking world, with her head held high. Without shame. Arrogant.
Not arrogant. Proud.
It takes Renira a lot to fall in love, but maybe this is a closer thing. Or maybe it’s the rakija, and the kissing, and the moon whispering in her ear, and the Ebonhawke and its pressing history and its proud descendant that’s holding her hand.
Whatever it is, Renira slides into the night with her.
It is, after all, a call she can’t say no to.
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