this is the cutest series ever omg :,) ♡
Forbidden Crown: ch. II
Summary: Five years after your last visit to Tir Asleen, you finally get to see Kit again. Although you promised your mother you wouldn’t let Kit influence you, her fiery personality and strong will draw you in, and open your eyes to a whole new world of excitement and adventure.
Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader
Contains: fluff, reader’s subtle mommy issues, rebellious kit, weapons, sword fighting, stumbling upon mature illustrations, childlike innocence, implied parent death, one bed, sneaking out
Word Count: 5.6k
A/N: this chapter does contain adolescents stumbling upon some ‘sensual’ illustrations in library books. It is purely meant to be part of a ‘coming of age,’ and I even had others proofread it to make sure it comes off that way. Anyways, here’s the second chapter of Forbidden Crown! :)
Almost immediately upon returning to Azarenth, you began pressing your parents about revisiting Tir Asleen.
Your inquiries began innocently. “Mommy, can we go and see the twins today?”
Each time, she’d shake her head. “Not today, sweetheart. Our responsibilities leave no time for such an endeavor.”
Then, you resorted to excuses. “Father, we’ve been so busy, we could really use a holiday. How about a trip to Tir Asleen?”
He’d chortle at the suggestion. “Princess, if we were to go on holiday, it certainly would not be to a place such as Tir Asleen!”
Every day, you would pose similar questions, and as time went on, your parents' refusals became curt, tinged with vexation. Eventually, you ceased questioning altogether, not wanting to further irritate them.
Despite your silence, your mind occupied itself with thoughts of Kit. You longed to keep in contact with her, but your parents thought you weren’t old enough to have your own carrier pigeon. In an attempt to keep her close, you even secretly wore her breeches beneath your dresses until they no longer fit, then kept them stashed in the bottom of your storage chest, hidden from your parents or any prying maids.
Every day, you wondered how she was doing, and every day, you wondered if she thought of you as well.
It wasn’t until just before the summer of your tenth year that you thought you would ever see Kit again. On a golden May afternoon, you heard your mothers voice calling you in from playing outside with some children from the nearby village. Disgruntled, you bid your friends farewell and trudged back in through the castle doors.
Upon entering, you immediately saw your parents sitting in the Great Hall, hands folded on the table in front of them. You gulped; this room was rarely ever used, with the exception of large gatherings or very important meetings. Hypothetical scenarios swarmed your mind as you desperately tried to figure out what horrible thing you had done to warrant a meeting in the Great Hall.
Walking in, you took a seat across from your parents, folding your hands in your lap and refusing eye contact.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why we called you in here,” your mother began, never one to beat around the bush.
You nodded slowly, still declining to meet her gaze. Your father cleared his throat, taking over the conversation.
“Princess,” he began. “As you’re well aware, you are a child of nobility. It is very important to us that you grow up receiving the best education and training possible, and that includes learning crucial life skills such as independence and adaptability.”
Furrowing your brow, you nodded, confused. You didn’t have a clue where this conversation was going and frankly wished your parents would just get to the point so you could go back outside.
Almost as if she could read your mind, your mother jumped in. “Your father and I have been exchanging letters with the Queen of Tir Asleen. You remember Sorsha and her twins, don’t you?”
Your ears perked up at this, the mere mention of your long-lost friends sending a wave of sweet nostalgia to wash over you. “Of course! I loved playing with Kit.”
“And Airk,” your mother interrupted, hardening her gaze.
Forgetting that your mother wasn’t necessarily a fan of the Princess of Tir Asleen, you were quick to agree. “Yes, Airk too, surely.”
“After some back and forth,” your mother took a deep breath before delivering the news. “Queen Sorsha has agreed to foster you temporarily. You will be staying in Tir Asleen with her and her children for the summer months.”
Just for a brief moment, you swore your heart stopped beating before a burst of warmth exploded in your chest. Three whole months spent with Kit? Staying in the Tir Asleen castle? Away from your parents? The very thought made you tingle with excitement.
“This is not a holiday,” your mother interrupted your daydream as if she could see your thoughts. “You will be studying under an array of tutors and governesses, receiving a rigorous education and learning proper court etiquette. I hope you don’t think you’re going to spend the entire summer rolling around in mud with that filthy girl.”
Your mother’s slander against Kit made your blood boil underneath your skin, evaporating to your face and turning your cheeks a dark crimson. Every cell in your body wanted to stand up and scream at your mother before shouting Kit’s praises. Instead, you decided to seethe quietly, fearing that speaking up could jeopardize the trip.
As the conversation came to a close and you got up to leave, your mother called your name just before you made it out the door. You took a deep breath, forcing a grin as you turned to face her.
“Yes, mother?” Your voice came out strained and tense.
Her expression turned serious as her jaw stilled, mouth tight in a straight line. She peered at you through her brow, not breaking her gaze for one moment.
“Don’t let that Kit girl influence you. I mean it.”
The following fortnight seemed to drag as you waited impatiently for June to arrive. Each day seemed to tick by slower than the last, until you managed to develop an irrational hatred for the month of May.
When the morning of your departure finally arrived, a servant entered your bedchamber to fetch your storage chest, only to find the room empty and the chest missing. After informing the castle and a brief moment of panic, one of the guards found you already in the carriage, having dragged your storage chest by yourself all the way outside at the first sign of daybreak.
“May we leave now?” You asked, ever impatient.
The castle staff shared a hearty chuckle over your eagerness when your parents stepped outside, dismissing the crew before bidding their final farewells.
“Luck be with you in Tir Asleen, Princess,” your father began, bearing his familiar kind smile. “You’re not to worry about traveling alone, I hired the best coachman in all of Azarenth to ensure your safety.”
Returning your fathers warm grin, you leaned out the carriage window to wrap your arms around his neck. Your mother, nowhere near as affectionate as her husband, simply gave you a tight smile and a curt nod.
“Be on your best behavior for Sorsha, please.”
The day-long journey to Tir Asleen was long and winding, the wheels against cobblestone bricks gently rocking the carriage. Traveling alone for the first time had you a tad nervous, but the friendly coachman made sure to keep you company.
Soon, as the late afternoon sun began its descent, the castle of Tir Asleen gradually came into view. Nostalgic memories rushed through your mind as the stone battlements seemed to pierce the clouds. You leaned your head out the carriage window, feeling the warm wind on your face and breathing in the familiar smell of dew.
The carriage came to a halt at the castle entrance, the sudden stillness of the car making you wonder how long your hands had been shaking. Peering out the carriage window, you saw Airk near the front, sword sparring with another boy around his age.
Disappointment shadowed your face at the absence of Kit, but you tried to hide it. As you waited for the coachman to gather your things, you busied yourself watching Airk spar. He was quite the swordsman, staying quick on his feet, and countering each attack with focus clouding his uncovered face.
Despite Airk’s impressive skill, his opponent still seemed to have the upper hand. You couldn’t quite make out who he was due to a faceplate covering his features, but his technique was precise, perfected, almost as if he’d had to work twice as hard as Airk to get where he was.
Suddenly, Airk momentarily lost his footing on a slippery rock, allowing his mysterious opponent to take advantage and deliver one final strike. Airk tumbled to the ground, the anonymous swordsman moving to stand over him as he conceded defeat.
You couldn’t help but erupt into applause, after all, duels rarely happened in your kingdom. Startled, Airk and his friend turned towards you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’d arrived. You were about to approach Airk and exchange pleasant greetings when his masked adversary suddenly removed his faceplate, shaking out his hair and revealing his identity.
Shock hung from your features. This mysterious man wasn’t mysterious at all! Or a man! It was Kit!
“Kit!” You exclaimed, your voice coming out as an involuntary squeal.
She called your name back and ran to you, enveloping you in a hug. You buried your face into the crook of her neck, damp with sweat from the humidity of the faceplate.
“Your hair got so long!” You commented after pulling away.
It was true. Kits original short chop now flowed in waves down to her mid-torso, making her look oddly feminine even in trousers.
“I hate it,” Kit groaned, pinching a lock of her hair and frowning down at it. “It gets so hot, and I hate having to put it up.”
As she fidgeted with her hair, your gaze traveled down to her wrist, noticing a sandstone silk strand peeking out of her sleeve. Curious, you took her hand and pushed her sleeve up, revealing the ribbon she had stolen from you all those years ago.
“My ribbon!” You exclaimed, surprised and genuinely touched. “You still wear it?”
“Every day,” Kit answered truthfully. “It reminds me of you.”
You turned her wrist over in your hand, admiring the ribbon. The previously bright pink silk had faded into a blush beige, bleached from sun exposure. Once perky bunny-ear loops now drooped down her wrist, tickling the bottom of her palm. It was almost unrecognizable, this old ribbon that time had not been kind to, and the fact that Kit had worn it all these years warmed a special place in your heart.
Airk cleared his throat, startling you slightly as you had forgotten he was there. You offered him an apologetic smile, letting go of Kit’s wrist to shake his hand.
“Forgive me,” you chuckled nervously. “It’s good to see you again as well, Airk.”
The rest of the evening was spent catching up; the three of you laid on patches of grass and recounted events from the last five years until a maid rang the dinner bell. Even at dinner, all of you prattled incessantly. Airk eventually found he’d said enough and focused on his meal, but you and Kit talked through mouthfuls of food, much to Sorsha’s chagrin.
“You can eat or you can speak, but it’s terribly impolite to combine the two,” she scolded.
After the third or fourth lecture, you noticed how they would only come from Sorsha. A brief glance around the table confirmed your suspicions: Madmartigan was absent.
“Where’s your dad?” You whispered to Kit, worried that asking Sorsha directly would upset her.
Kit, however, perked up at your question, eyes sparkling at the mention of her role model. “He’s on a quest! He’s going to fight inside a worm!”
“He’s trying to destroy the Wyrm from the inside, Kit.” Airk corrected.
Kit brushed off her brother, ignoring his comment and continuing. “He’s been fighting the Wyrm for some time now. He’s so busy, but he always has a letter delivered to us on the first of every month!”
She sprang up from her chair, dashing to fetch the most recent letter before being stopped by Sorsha. “Kit, how many times have I said not to leave the table without being excused?”
Kit spun around with a dramatically curtsy and mimed pulling on an invisible skirt. “Mother, may I please be excused from this fine supper? Oh mummy, please may I?”
You stifled a giggle at her theatrics. Sorsha sighed, dismissing her with the wave of her hand. Kit sped out of the room, returning seconds later with a piece of paper and thrusting it into Sorsha’s hands.
“This one arrived today.” Kit explained, leaning over her mother’s shoulder.
Despite Sorsha’s annoyance with her daughter, she couldn’t help but smile as she gingerly pinched the corners of her husband's letter.
“My dear family,” she began reading as Airk rushed over, joining Kit in reading over their mother’s shoulder. “As I venture forth on this perilous mission, know that my thoughts are never far from all of you. My journey to confront the Wyrm may be ripe with danger, but carrying the strength of our family has gotten me through some challenging moments.”
“To my daughter, Kit,” Kit perked up at the mention of her name, leaning farther into the letter as Sorsha continued to read. “Your unyielding spirit and fearlessness are sure to serve you well in all that you do. Always remember to keep your sword sharp and your wits sharper.”
“To Airk,” it was Airk’s turn to lean into the letter. “My son, every day you continue to amaze me. I look forward to returning and watching you grow into the man I know you’re destined to be.”
“And to my lovely wife,” Sorsha’s voice cracked as she read. “Not a day goes by where I don’t picture your face. You are the light that leads me through the darkest tunnels.”
Sorsha sniffed, attempting to discreetly wipe away a tear before reading the last section. “I promise to return one day, victorious and bearing plenty of stories. Until then, I hope you’ll take comfort in these letters. All my love, Madmartigan.”
Kit looked up from the letter, eyes shining with undeterrable admiration. “When I grow up, I want to be just like him.”
Later that night, as you readied yourself for slumber in one of the castle's many guest rooms, a knock interrupted your solitude. You granted permission to enter, fixing your posture and bracing yourself to be greeted by Sorsha. However, your tension eased when the door cracked and Kit’s face poked through.
“I need your help with something,” she whispered, cautious not to disturb any sleeping residents.
“Why? What happened?” You inquired.
Without another word, Kit seized your hand and led you away. You protested at first, feeling naked in your thin nightgown outside the walls of your bedchamber, but Kit's hand wrapped around yours felt soothing, like a warm glove on a cold day, and you knew that no matter where you went, you would be safe as long as Kit was there.
She led you to the end of the hall, down a flight of stairs, and through the doors of the basement, only letting go of your hand to ignite a taper candle and shed some light into the dark room. Weapons of all shapes and sizes mounted the walls, their silver blades illuminating in the candle light. Various types of armor decorated the corners, including the faceplate Kit had worn earlier in the day.
“Is this…”
“The armory.” Kit answered your unspoken question.
You nodded, marveling at the room. Azarenth had an armory in their castle too, but it was heavily guarded, and strictly off limits to you.
Kit plucked a sword from the wall and laid it flat against her palms, presenting it to you. “I need you to cut my hair.”
“What?” You searched Kit’s face for any sign of humor, but found none as she stood completely serious.
“I need you to cut my hair,” she repeated. “I can’t reach back there, and Airk won’t do it because he’s afraid of getting in trouble.”
“What if I get in trouble?” You asked, still in disbelief at her request.
“You won’t,” she replied, completely sure of herself.
Kit still sensed your hesitation, so she put the sword down and took both of your hands in hers. “You’re not going to get in trouble, I promise. My mom won’t let me cut my hair because she says it makes me look ‘pretty,’ but what good is beauty if I’m constantly uncomfortable? Please, I really need you to do this for me.”
There it was again, that feeling of safety that surmounted whenever Kit held your hand. You sighed defeatedly, nodding in agreement. Kit beamed at you as she placed the sword in your hands, but the large piece of metal turned out to be much heavier than you expected and you ended up dropping it, the sword falling to the ground with a loud clatter.
“I haven’t actually… used a sword before,” you admitted sheepishly.
“Hmm…” Kit thought for a second before her face brightened once again, running to a nearby rack and picking up an oddly-shaped knife. “Dagger?”
You agreed, and Kit handed you the dagger, showing you how to grip the handle. As you clutched this foreign weapon, a new sense of power washed over you. You suddenly felt invincible, safe, but a different kind of safe from when Kit held your hand.
“How short do you want it?” You asked, still examining the jagged piece of metal.
Kit shrugged. “I just don’t want to have to tie it up in order to spar.”
She turned around, facing away from you and shaking out her long locks so they all flowed down her back. You gulped, gathering her hair in a handful just below her neck, hands shaking as the previous power evaporated into thin air and replaced itself with anxiety. With one quick slash it was all over, the sharp blade passing through her delicate hairs with ease. A sigh left your lips, relieved to have completed your task. You glanced down to admire your handiwork, but were met with a sight so horrific that the dagger fell from your unsteady hands, dropping to the floor with a sharp clang.
Her hair, once long and beautiful, was now absolutely botched. Tresses meant to float over her shoulders now curled just under her ears, while crooked sprigs stuck out in all directions.
“How does it look?” Kit asked, but you were too afraid to answer.
When you didn’t, she picked up the sword off the ground, admiring her reflection in the shiny metal. Her jaw dropped, eyes wide with shock. She reached up, carefully running her fingers over the butchered ends.
A lump rose in your throat as you became overwhelmed with guilt. “Kit, I’m so…”
“I love it.” Kit said in a low voice.
You blinked, not quite registering what she said. “Huh?”
“I love it!” Kit repeated, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s exactly what I wanted: short!”
“But it’s so choppy and uneven!” You exclaimed, confused by her elation.
Kit shook her head, sprigs flying in every direction. “I look the way I’ve always felt inside: a harbinger of chaos!”
She swung the sword around for effect, giggling like a little kid. You felt yourself relax as you watched her, relieved she wasn’t angry and somewhat enamored by her unbridled joy.
All of a sudden, the unmistakable slam of a basement door reverberated throughout the armory. A tall figure entered, holding a large torch that cast a looming shadow. You and Kit froze, tension palpable as the figure stepped forward, revealing itself to be Sorsha.
Her gaze immediately fixated on Kit’s hair, expression hardening into unreadable stone. “There was a clatter. I was afraid there might be an intruder.”
Slowly, she approached you two, both of you holding your breath in anticipation. She reached out to touch Kit’s chopped tresses tentatively, as if they would scald her. “Your hair…”
You glanced between Kit and Sorsha, a sense of dread settling inside you as you prepared your confession. “Your majesty, I…”
“I did it,” Kit interjected, surprising you. “I got fed up with my long hair, and since you wouldn’t allow me to get it cut, I snuck down here and did it myself.”
Sorsha squinted at her daughter, skeptical at her story. Noticing her doubt, Kit gestured towards you. “She’s here because she tried to stop me.”
Sorsha’s gaze shifted down, noticing Kit still holding a sword, while your hands were empty. She took a step back, her face darkening with a quiet anger. You held your breath, bracing yourself for the explosion, but instead her eyes softened as she turned to you.
“Your mother raised such a well-behaved young lady,” she remarked sweetly before redirecting her attention to Kit. “I wish I had done the same…”
You glanced over at Kit, who appeared unfazed by her mother’s hurtful words.
“We’ll continue this discussion upstairs,” Sorsha muttered through clenched teeth, seizing Kit’s arm and leading her away.
You watched as Kit was pulled out of the basement, the guilt from going along with her lie eating you up from the inside. Part of you longed to follow, to confess your involvement, but your feet stayed cemented to the floor, blocks of concrete too heavy to move.
Just before disappearing through the door, Kit turned to look at you, noting your terror-stricken face. You attempted to mouth an ‘I’m sorry,’ but she vigorously shook her head. Instead, she offered you a reassuring smile, sending a wink in your direction that made your heart squeeze. And just like that, you became certain that everything would be alright.
It would be a full month before you could speak to Kit again.
You were right to be worried about getting into trouble, because Kit had gotten herself into a lot. As punishment, she had been confined to her chambers for the past few weeks, only being let out to assist the scullions with chores. Sometimes, you would pass her walking with the maids in the hallways, and when no one was looking, she would shoot you a funny face that never failed to make you laugh.
The weeks without Kit seemed to stretch, each day growing longer than the last. You eventually grew bored with Tir Asleen, the absence of your friend diminishing the kingdom’s original appeal. Luckily, you at least had Airk to keep you company.
“Why do you think our parents keep pushing us to be friends?” You asked him one day, while you were both taking a stroll around the palace gardens.
Airk simply shrugged. “I wonder that too sometimes. Perhaps they want us to learn about each other's homes?”
You shook your head. “Azarenth is only a day trip away from Tir Asleen, not much to learn. Maybe they just want us to get along.”
“But I don’t recall any conflict between our kingdoms,” Airk remarked.
These were the typical conversations between you and Airk: mundane, frivolous words meant to fill an empty space. It’s not as if he wasn’t pleasant company, but he just didn’t excite you the way Kit did.
One early morning, near the end of the month, you were sound asleep in your guest bed when you suddenly felt a crushing weight moving on top of you, followed by the inability to breathe. You opened your eyes to see a dark figure over you, holding its hands over your nose and mouth. Fear coursed through you as your survival instinct took over, thrashing under the dark figure and screaming pleas muffled by its hands.
“Shh… shh… Princess…” the figure leaned down to whisper in your ear.
Your stifled breath hitched in your throat at the familiarity of the figure's voice. Forcing yourself to calm down, you stared up at the figure, eyes adjusting to the darkness until Kit’s unmistakable face came into view.
“Kit…” you whispered as soon as she removed her hands from your mouth. “What are you…”
“I’m not in trouble anymore,” she cut you off. “I’m free.”
“What…” you sat up to lean on your elbows. “Kit, that’s wonderful. But, what do you mean?”
“My mother’s focusing on Airk now,” she replied. “Come with me.”
She seized your hand once again and pulled you out of bed, disclosing her intentions while leading you across the castle.
“I’m usually awoken this early to assist the scullions with chores,” she explained. “However, this morning one of the more prying maids told me that I’m no longer needed, that Airk will be doing chores now.”
“But why?” You inquired.
“I’ll show you.”
She led you down to the large double doors of the palace library, opening them cautiously to avoid getting caught. The overwhelming smell of old books hit you as soon as you stepped inside, smacking you in the face before enveloping you in a warm hug. Your castle didn’t have a library as much as a few bookshelves here and there, so you couldn’t help but stop and marvel at Tir Asleen’s vast collection of books piled high as the ceiling.
“Come on,” Kit insisted, yanking you out of your daydream and pulling you towards a table in the back of the library that was covered with half-open books. “The maid said that my mother caught Airk reading these late last night, and that’s why he’s in trouble.”
“For reading?” You were puzzled.
“Not just reading,” Kit explained. “She said the literature was lewd.”
“Lewd?”
“Bad.” Kit clarified, a wicked grin spreading across her face.
Your brows furrowed, still confused. “But… how can a book be bad?”
Kit seemed unsure how to answer your question, but was curious to find out. She pulled a paper manuscript off the top of one of the piles and opened it to a random page, both of you gasping at the sight. While the text was nothing extraordinary, the margins of the pages were filled with graphic drawings of women in various states of undress.
Your finger trembled as you pointed at one of the women, the top of her dress pulled down to her stomach. “Is that…”
“I think that’s what they’re supposed to look like. When we’re older.” Kit whispered, not taking her eyes off the page.
Both of you sat at the table and stared at the page in awe, neither of you daring to speak. After a moment, you decided to pick another book off of one of the piles, the cover reading “Carmina Burana.” You glanced at Kit, who bore into you, silently daring you to open it.
Flipping to another random page, you came across a translated poem entitled “Si Puer Cum Puella,” and began to read. “If a lad and his sweet lover, in a room together linger—an ineffable game begins, in their abandoned lips and limbs.”
Looking over at Kit, you expected her to explain what the poem meant, but she seemed as confused as you were. Turning the page, you found more marginalia, these drawings far different from the ones in the manuscript. In the corner of the page was a drawing of a man, carrying a sword in a full state of undress that exposed his flaccid…
You slammed the book shut in disgust, cheeks burning a dark crimson.
“What happened?” Kit questioned.
With a shaky hand, you pushed the book in her direction. She furrowed her brow at you and flipped it open, thumbing through the pages until coming across the drawing. Horrified, she let out a sharp “eek” before slamming the book shut once again.
“Shhh…” you reminded her, remembering what happened the last time you two got caught sneaking around. She nodded, slapping a hand over her mouth.
Both of you stared down at the book as if it had burned you. The air around you felt thick, the only audible sounds being shallow breaths and your own heart beating in your ears.
“Airk has one of those,” Kit finally spoke in a low voice. “I’ve seen it. We took baths together when we were younger.”
“Do they all look like that?” You asked in disgust.
Kit shook her head, gesturing to the abandoned book. “Not like that!”
The two of you stood frozen for another minute before you decided to take a leap of faith, grabbing the “Carmina Burana” and flipping back to the offending page. You tore out the drawing, ripping it to shreds and shoving it down one of your stockings to dispose of later. Glancing over at Kit, she stood shocked, her mouth agape.
“I think boys are nasty,” you exclaimed, grabbing the previous manuscript and revisiting the page with the drawings of women, a satisfied grin spreading across your face. “Much better.”
For the rest of the summer, you and Kit made it a habit to sneak around in the dead of nights, embarking on secret little adventures just for the two of you. Sometimes you would revisit the back corners of the library to explore banned literature; other times, you would break into the kitchen to eat an entire jar of fruit preserves between the two of you.
But most nights were reserved for nothing but late-night chatter. You would hide in each other's rooms, whispering secrets that dissolved into the quiet of the night, like you did when you were younger.
However, these late nights did take a toll on your daily schedules; neither of you could stay awake during the day. When summer classes started around mid-July, you often found yourself dozing off in the middle of them, frequently waking up to the angry scolds of a palace tutor following the sharp thwack of a ruler against your desk.
One Saturday morning, you were at the breakfast table eating with the Tanthalos family, when you felt yourself start to nod off before being awoken by a sharp jab in the ribs.
“Ouch,” you exclaimed, glaring daggers at Airk, sitting next to you. “What was that for?”
He held up his hands defensively. “You fell asleep on your toast.”
Groaning, you took your napkin and wiped the butter off your cheek. Now that you were awake, you couldn’t help but notice that Kit, who usually sat across from you in a similar state of stupor, was missing.
“Where did Kit go?” You asked Airk.
He gave a half-hearted wave in the direction of the kitchen window. “It’s the first of the month. Where do you think she went?”
Sure enough, Kit had glued herself to the kitchen window, refusing to look away from the nothingness of the outside in case a messenger were to appear out of nowhere.
“Kit,” Sorsha sighed in exasperation. “Come back and finish your breakfast.”
“But dad’s letter hasn’t arrived yet!” Kit protested.
“It’s early morning, the day has just begun. I’m sure your father’s letter will arrive later, now come eat!”
Kit grumbled as she plopped herself back down at the breakfast table, wolfing down her meal in seconds flat before excusing herself back to the window.
Unfortunately, the day’s sun came and went with no letter in sight. By nightfall, Kit was still perched at the window, wringing her hands like a damp towel.
“Time for bed, Kit.” Sorsha commanded, a hint of pity in her voice.
Kit looked up at her mom with wide eyes. “What about dad’s letter?”
Sorsha sent her daughter a reassuring smile, not showing any concern. “Sometimes messengers can get lost, nothing to worry about. I’m sure his letter will turn up soon.”
Several days passed with Kit stationed at the window, growing increasingly anxious each day as she waited for something that never came. By the end of the week, still no letter had arrived, and even Sorsha’s calm composition began to falter.
“Mom,” Kit called from the window, voice coming out small and frail. “Where’s dad’s letter?”
Sorsha rested her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, peering out at the fading sky alongside her. “I’m not sure, Kit.”
“Is he alright?” Kit looked to her mother for reassurance, a small child desperate for a glimmer of hope.
Sorsha opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She turned away from her daughter, letting the silence settle between them like a thick fog. And that was the moment all light died from Kit’s eyes, the innocence of her childhood crumbling before her like a glass vase shattering on tile floor.
That night, you were preparing for a restful evening when your door flung open. Startled, you whipped around to see Kit standing in your doorway. She seemed fragile, like a baby bird with a broken wing.
“Hey,” she whispered, her red, puffy eyes visible in the dim candlelight.
“Hey…” you responded, confused. Your midnight retreats had been put on hold after Kit’s attention turned towards her father’s letter.
“I’m worried about my dad…” Kit admitted in a low voice. “Can I sleep in here tonight?”
Her words tugged at your heartstrings, filling you with sympathy. You agreed, climbing into bed and patting the space beside you. Kit smiled gratefully and crawled onto her side, pulling the covers over the both of you. It was a bit of a tight squeeze to cram two adolescents into a twin bed, as you both had done a lot of growing since your childhood sleepover. But as Kit buried her head in your chest and snuggled up close, the proximity didn’t bother you. The warmth of your bodies merged like two flames into a single fire, becoming one and the same.
“No one knows where he is,” she mumbled into the silk of your nightgown. “Do you think something happened to him?”
You gently scratched her back and soothed her labored breaths, taking a moment to choose your words carefully. “Kit… you are one of the strongest people I know. I really, truly mean that. If your dad has even a fraction of your strength, I know there’s nothing that could stop him from seeing you again.”
Kit’s breathing evened out as your words seemed to reassure her. Her eyelids fought to stay open, a week of restless nights finally catching up to her. You bent down, planting a gentle kiss on her head before you both drifted off to sleep.
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oh god. /pos
ᡣ𐭩 thinking about bodyguard caitlyn.
cw. sfw. slightly suggestive towards the end. fem!reader. reader is high profile (it's up to you how you interpret that). au. caitlyn picks reader up (no description of body type, but cait is buff n fit). allusion to an anxiety attack but nothing super descriptive or serious. perv!caitlyn if you squint really really hard. caitlyn is deeply devoted to you. wc. 1k a/n. swooning very hard for cait & this tiktok is just very cait coded <3
࿐ bodyguard!caitlyn who takes her job as your bodyguard very seriously. she's constantly on high alert of your surroundings, and isn't afraid to call out the tiniest bit of suspicious behavior in a person, immediately sending them away to get reviewed and checked over. who always dismisses your upset remarks about how it's unnecessary to do all of that, but to her nothing is unnecessary when it comes to you and your safety.
࿐ bodyguard!caitlyn who stands tall, taller than she already is when in public with you. her tall stature stalking behind you as you go about your day, sending harsh glares to anyone who she sees fit deserves them. one day you mistakenly compared her to a doberman, as most time she's silent only ever talking when she's spoken to or asked a question, very clearly muscular, you can tell even under the identical suits she wears everyday, and a fierce protector. ever since you made that comment the other staff who you're surrounded by has nicknamed caitlyn your lap or guard dog, and it isn't endearing way, whatsoever. there's a mock in their tone whenever she's around, they find it pathetic that she makes herself so available for your beck and call, to her she's doing her job.
࿐ bodyguard!caitlyn who acts like a gentlewoman. always getting out of cars and doors first (she says it's so she's hit first if there's any threats but that goes through one ear and out the other, so you pretend she's just being nice), waiting outside of your vehicle waiting patiently for you to grab onto the hand she has out waiting for you and step out the car, since caitlyn's been hired you can't remember the last time you opened a door yourself, she's always around and thus (although not in her contract) opening doors for you is apart of her job. even after protecting you for however long she's still breaking the habit of placing miss in front of your last name when addressing you, it's one of the few things you correct her on, that she doesn't need to have formalities with you, but she insists, blaming it on her upbringing for having such a habit.
࿐ bodyguard!caitlyn who notices when you're in a compromising position. like when you were at an event, you were wearing a short dress and caitlyn began to notice the dress riding up. the last thing she wants is for anyone to see you in a vulnerable predicament or worse one of the paparazzi littered throughout the event snapping photos and plastering them all over the tabloids. so, she acts swiftly, her long legs taking her body to you in no time, smoothing a hand on the small of your back and turning you—shielding you from preying eyes as her free hand works at the hem of your dress, tugging at it gently to move it down to cover your thighs more. and just as quickly as she came to your rescue, she quickly expels herself, the wisp of her fingertips dragging along your waist, leaving you stunned and dazed.
࿐ bodyguard!caitlyn who handles umbrellas for you. her pace syncing perfectly to yours as for once she's walking beside you and not behind you, a tight grip on the handle as the umbrella protects you. and rainy days may be her guilty pleasure days, as the first time it ever rained when she was on the job she made sure the umbrella was completely covering you as droplets shattered and soaked into her hair and suit. you scolded her that day, telling her what good she'd be if she got sick. now when it rains you wrap an arm around her bicep and press yourself into her, so now the both of you are protected from the rain.
࿐ bodyguard!caitlyn who fights off paparazzi. she fucking hates them, and she hates when they bombard you, the clicks of their cameras blinding you. so, the only reasonable response is for caitlyn to rip cameras from hands and smash them to the group all while your huddled to her chest, arms around her waist as she uses her suit jacket to hide you. it's shocking whenever caitlyn is around paparazzi because she becomes instantly hostile towards them, spiting vulgar insults at them, she firmly believes respect is a two way street and since time and time again they can't seem to respect you, she won't tolerate them, even if that means blogs are calling her unprofessional for her behavior.
࿐ bodyguard!caitlyn who acts quick on her feet. when all the sudden there's a mob of people surrounding you, the rise and fall of your chest quickening as you become closed in by bodies, closing your eyes tight, wishing to get out of there. and just as you casted your wish, it was quickly answered. your body being lifted into strong arms. peaking your eyes open you're met with caitlyn's hardened face and usual velvety voice demanding people out of her way. the hint of her warm jasmine scent hitting your nose and you stuff your face in the crook of her neck, while your arms wrap around it, shutting your eyes once more.
࿐ bodyguard!caitlyn who spends every waking moment with you. it's something that worries you, understanding her job but also understanding that she needs her own time alone, to rest. you, nor the rest of your staff understands how caitlyn even functions when each and every night she takes post at your bedroom door. there's been times where you've gone to separate staff and ask if caitlyn is truly outside your door the entire night, and the concessions is; yes, she stands guard at your door each night, for the entire, completely awake. and caitlyn hears you, late at night, when everyone else but her is sleeping pleasuring yourself, your soft moans calling out to her from beyond your bedroom door.
jackson!ellie x reader | 4.1k words
a/n: hiiii! i'm kinda nervous, this is my first time posting something smutty >.< i hope i did a good job, enjoy!
cw: nsfw, afab reader, cursing, smoking weed, they're both high but everything is completely consensual, nipple play (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), two idiots high as fuck and desperately in love ghhhfhgfj
summary: your relationship with ellie is a recent development, at the point now of teetering on the edge of the deep end, so close to becoming something more serious for you both. with the help of a some maybe a little too much weed and how irritatingly good she looks in that grey hoodie of hers, you might just take that plunge.
you knew it was a bad idea, to let yourself get this high with ellie. you’d done this so many times before, truly abusing the gift that was accidentally stumbling into eugene’s old weed den while out on patrol together once. but back then you were just friends, two lumbering idiots excited over this newfound high that had you both giggling until you gasped for air. now things are different.
your relationship was still new, its legs still a little shaky like those of a newborn fawn. but being with ellie started to feel as easy as breathing the longer you spent together, slowly but surely figuring out what that transition from friends to lovers meant for the both of you.
“do you want any more?” ellie asked through stifled coughs, extending out her hand that held the lit joint. through a lot of trial and error, you had figured out what your threshold was and tended not to push that limit, your mind already sinking into that floaty headspace you loved so much.
despite this you hummed in thought for a moment, your reddened eyes shifting to ellie lazily leaning against the outside wall of her garage. she was wearing that grey hoodie that made your jaw clench every time you saw her in it, how she made something so simple look so good was unknown to you. you certainly weren’t complaining though.
“hmm… you know what? sure,” you shrug before reaching for the joint, because who are you to say no when she looks like that? you feel that familiar pang in your stomach when your fingers brush against hers. you almost laugh out loud at how pathetic it feels to still react to her this way, not yet fully wrapping your head around the fact that she’s actually yours.
you get lost in the fluidity of well-trained muscle memory, passing the joint back and forth. and before you know it you’re getting that rush of fuzziness in your brain that brings out that dopey smile of yours and giggles with no particular cause.
ellie looks at you with an amused smile, noticing the adorably dumb look in your glossy eyes.
“you okay, baby?” she chuckles as she observes you in your blissed-out state. you hum contently, the sound of that name rolling so perfectly off of her tongue, nodding enthusiastically in response.
her tolerance is a lot higher than yours, which you always complained to her about as if she could transfer the trait to you, so she was enjoying the entertainment of you being high out of your mind.
“y’look so pretty, els,” you sigh, ellie’s chest tightening at the way you’re looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky.
“really?” she huffs out a laugh, “i look like shit.” she gives herself a once-over, her hair a little messy from a busy day in jackson and her comfort hoodie thrown carelessly over her clothes.
you let out an exaggerated gasp, unable to fathom how she could look anything other than devastatingly gorgeous right now.
“nooo, shit looks like you!” you say in a poor attempt to rebuke her statement, your befuddled condition making you fumble your words.
“oh wow, so you do agree?”
“no, no, no, wait! i messed up what i was saying-”
“uh huh, sure. c’mon, let’s get you inside, dork.”
things were peaceful for a while, the two of you in a cosy embrace on ellie’s bed as she reread one of her favourite savage starlight comics. you were draped across her chest, mindlessly glancing at the pages, entertained by the colourful art but not quite absorbing any of the plot.
you then make the mistake of looking up at ellie, cheek squishing against her shoulder as you admire her. your gaze flowed down the outline of her side profile like a water droplet. it started at her forehead, a place you so often left tender kisses upon. it beads down between her scarred brows, which you thought made her look so frustratingly cool, trickling across the freckled slope of her nose where it then drops off of the tip, leaving your focus right where her lips are.
your stomach flutters; the only thing your brain can focus on is how badly you want to kiss her. she wasn’t even doing anything purposefully enticing, but she didn’t have to for you to lose your mind.
ellie could feel your watchful orbs practically burning holes through her, unable to keep herself from looking back at you any longer.
“see something interesting?” ellie startles you a little as she breaks the silence, rapidly blinking at her as you regain your bearings.
“hmm… interesting is one way to describe it.” your voice has a lilt to it, the sound light and a little shy. ellie thinks you’re so precious.
“whatcha lookin’ at, pretty?” she pries, enjoying it maybe a little too much as she watches you fumble at the question, eyes darting between anywhere else in the room and what you were truly captivated by: her lips.
“ellieee…” you whine, moving so your face is hidden in her neck. your breath fans over her skin in a warm gust, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she swallows thickly. fuck.
“c’mon, i know you want something.” she’s purposefully trying to rile you up, placing the bookmark you made for her between the pages of her comic, and tossing it to the side. she was far more interested in you now.
“says who?” you weakly argue back.
“uh, says the look on your face. you’re not very subtle, babe.”
in all fairness, what you wanted might as well have appeared in a comedic thought bubble above your head with how clearly it was written across your face.
you mumble a quiet, “shut up,” ellie having you completely cornered. a low chuckle rumbles in her chest, your defeat amusing her.
“can you look at me, please?” ellie’s voice is gentle, that teasing cadence still present but it’s overpowered by something softer. she doesn’t just want you to look at her, she needs you to.
you pull away from your hiding place in her neck, bashful bambi eyes looking up at her finally.
“there she is,” ellie coos and it makes your head spin. your eyes gravitate back down to her lips, unable to ignore the magnetic pull they seemed to have. she knew what you wanted and you knew she wanted it too, but ellie just had to make it hard for you.
“tell me what you want and you can have it,” she whispers playfully. a reluctant groan leaves your wanting lips, (loving) hating the way she found such obvious joy in watching you squirm under her gaze.
you ultimately give in, the frayed rope that was tethering you to what was left of your self-restraint promptly snapping.
“please kiss me.”
so she does, her lips on yours in one fluid motion as she reaches up to cup your jaw. you sigh contently against her mouth now that she’s finally freeing you from this waiting game, melting as you hungrily chase each other's lips.
you feel lightheaded by the time ellie is gently guiding you onto your back, caging you in from above as if hiding you from the rest of the world. she was devouring you, selfish and possessive as she kissed you with an urgency that had you wondering if your lips would bruise. you were undeniably hers and ellie needed you to know it. and of course, you did, you didn’t see how things could be any other way.
it felt like you were about to burst; you could feel her everywhere. her calloused hand holding your face so sweetly, the mind-numbing kisses she was firmly planting onto your lips, hoping that her imprint would take root there and ruin you for anybody else. the way her knee slotted between your thighs with ease, the roughness of her jeans rubbing against you, leaving a tingle on your skin.
ellie had stolen all of the breath from your lungs, gasping for air as you pulled away from her, chest heaving. soft pants filled the air, sharing breathy giggles between the two of you.
“hi,” you say dumbly, that same dopey grin from earlier stretching across your kiss-swollen lips.
“hi,” she repeats back, freckled cheeks dusted with a pink tint as she looks at you with glimmering eyes.
she barely gives you time to catch your breath before she’s leaning in to trail burning hot kisses down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, the flesh there sensitive under her loving attack. then she reached that spot, one she had discovered recently, pride swelling up in her chest after you made a noise she hadn’t heard from you before. she desperately wanted to hear it again.
a gasp of her name escapes your lips as she sucks and bites on the area, squirming beneath her as you feel her smile against your neck.
“yeah? you need something, baby?” she sounded so fucking cocky. if only you knew the way her heart was racing inside its bony cage, butterflies- no, more like a swarm of wasps invading her stomach. you looked so pretty underneath her, you sounded it too. the little hitches in your breath and your high-pitched whines had her hooked. it was like she was experiencing a whole new high as she watched you grow needier beneath her.
“need you.” your breathless plea is all she requires before her lips are back on yours, determined and eager.
as attractive as she looked in it you needed her out of that damn hoodie, your grabby hands tugging at it as a silent request for her to take it off. of course ellie obliges, why would she ever deny you?
she retreats for a moment to yank the grey fabric over her head, her t-shirt riding up a little in the process and it has you reeling. you felt utterly depraved having such a visceral reaction to the sliver of skin, feeling that familiar ache forming between your legs at the sight.
she was back on you again in an instant, but it wasn’t enough. you wanted to feel her, to bask in her body’s warmth as she drew those pretty sounds from you that she couldn’t get enough of.
“more, i need to feel you closer, fuck please-” your curious hands are creeping their way under her shirt now, nails dragging gently up her back. you watch as she shivers at the sensation, her head hanging low as a shaky breath passes her lips.
she’d do whatever you asked her to right now, grasping the hem of her t-shirt before pulling it over her head. you can’t help but gawk at her, completely stupefied by the sight. this was new, your clothes had always remained on up until now.
ellie feels on fire under your gaze, your half-lidded stare trailing over the definition chiselled into her stomach. you’re trying to add up every freckle you could see scattered across her pale skin, too many for you to count but you desperately wanted to know the number anyway because you wanted to know her.
“can i take your shirt off?” she sounds desperate and it puts you at ease being able to hear that she wants you just as bad as you want her.
“please, ellie,” is all you breathe out before she’s keenly dragging your shirt over your head. her eyes might as well be completely black with how big her pupils have grown, the weed mixed with the heavenly sight of you sprawled out beneath her enough to make her dizzy.
intimacy like this was somewhat new territory for you both as a couple. only recently was it that your eager hands and desperate touches made their way beneath the barriers of cotton and denim, a wall you hadn’t fully breached yet until now. but with how good she was making you feel, you knew you needed more.
brick by brick you tore it down, discarding each other’s clothing until you were left in nothing but your underwear. ellie needed to see you, all of you, her fingers twitching as they inched closer to your bra. she asks to take it off and you’re nodding your head in agreement before she can even finish her sentence. your back arches to give her room to unclasp it, feeling it grow loose around you before it’s being slid down your arms. there you are.
ellie is sure you’ve cast a spell on her, entranced by the sight of you laid almost fully bare beneath her, watching the way your chest would rise and fall as you sucked in breaths.
“you’re so fucking pretty,” she rasps in a tone reminiscent of the whines she would relentlessly mock you for. you were too far gone now to comment on it but you noticed, you could tease her about it later.
she can’t bear to not have her lips on you any longer, leaning down to trail sweet kisses down your neck once more, only this time letting herself go lower and lower.
a pathetic mewl escapes you as you feel her mouth capture one of your hardened nipples, arching into her as she sucks it into the wet warmth of her mouth. everything is so sensitive right now, the joint you smoked earlier still serving its purpose incredibly well.
you would let her eat you whole if she asked, addicted to the contrast of her soft lips and her biting teeth as they began to mark the supple swell of your tits. you had barely started and she already had you seeing stars, her knee experimentally pushing against your clothed cunt with a little more force than before.
you’re positively soaked at this point, hyper-aware of the cool stickiness seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear. and it only gets worse for you when ellie at last decides to discard her sports bra, leaving her in just her boxers.
she’s so pretty above you, touching you in a way that makes you feel sacred.
ellie moves impossibly closer to capture your lips once more, she can’t get enough of you. you can feel all of her, skin to skin as your sensitive tits push up against each other as she lays her weight on top of you. the feeling of her grounds you, keeping you from feeling like you’re floating away.
you’re panting into each other’s mouths, a mess of needy gasps and whines as you try and merge into one.
“please let me taste you, baby. i need it- need you.”
you’d be a fool to say no to her.
you watch as she kisses her way down your body, cherishing you like you were going to disappear at any moment. you’re throbbing beneath your underwear, clenching around nothing as she plants careful kisses over the material.
she chuckles as you whimper in frustration despite her needing this just as much as you. she looks up at you for any signs of discomfort that may have flown under her radar, but all she sees is unwavering adoration. you’re squirming but you wait so patiently for her touch, lower lip caught between your teeth in anticipation. so good for her.
you shudder as she drags your panties down the length of your legs, not missing the string of arousal that connects you to the fabric just a little longer before ellie’s throwing them in some random direction.
she’s face to face with your aching cunt now, almost salivating at the sight of your glistening folds right in front of her, waiting for her to do something.
“ellie, please don’t tease,” you whine, hips bucking in a desperate attempt to entice her closer. she’s truly not trying to drag this out, although she does love to tease you, she’s just completely enamoured by the sight of you.
“sorry, baby,” ellie snaps herself out of her trance, “c’mere, need to taste that pussy,” she sighs dreamily.
it’s like you can feel the chemistry of your brain changing after the first drag of her tongue between your folds, all of your senses flooded by only her and you know now that you’ll spend the rest of your days chasing the feeling.
the sight of her between your thighs is already overwhelming, her eyes rolling back as she savours the heady taste of you. you can hear how wet you are as her tongue ravages you, moaning against you as if she was the one getting fucked. the pleasure was dizzying, your hand weaving into the strands of her hair in a desperate attempt to keep yourself tethered to this reality.
“fuuuck, ellie!” you squeal, her nose nudging your clit as she practically buries her face in your pussy. her eyes open to look up at you, a guttural groan rumbling in her throat as she watches your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, brows furrowed and lips pouty as you let her have her way with you.
ellie can’t fathom how she’s supposed to want to be anywhere else but between your legs now that she’s finally gotten a taste of you. all of those longing glances and lingering touches from when you were both just friends had somehow led her here. her rightful place, she was sure of it.
she was taking mental notes of all the cute little noises she dragged out of you, noticing how you shuddered and whined when she flicked her tongue just right, clenching around nothing as she sucked your swollen bud into her mouth.
“god, you’re so fucking beautiful. can i use my fingers? please, baby, i’ll make you feel so good i promise.”
she sounds downright insatiable, begging you to let her make you feel good like she could feel it herself. she was convinced that she could, the wet patch on her boxers growing larger the longer she spent savouring you.
“yes please- oh fuck- please, ellie…”
she has rendered you almost completely mindless, dragging her finger up and down your slick folds. she experimentally pushes it inside of you, watching intently as your eyes flutter at the sensation.
“yeah, that feel good, pretty?” ellie asks in that low, sultry tone of hers that makes your stomach do cartwheels. all you can do is eagerly nod, lightning shooting through your limbs as she reattaches her mouth to your pussy. amidst all of this, she slides in a second finger, your slick helping her enter you with ease as a strangled moan leaves your mouth.
you could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. the combination of her tongue lapping against your folds, her fingers dragging against that sweet spot inside of you and the weed still buzzing in your system has you ready to give her everything you’d been holding back.
she could feel it too, the telltale clenching around her fingers and the way you struggled to form a coherent sentence. and she was obsessed with it, about ready to cum in her boxers just from the taste of you.
“els, i’m so close- oh my god, please let me cum. please, please, please-”
she pulls away for a moment, still pumping her fingers into you to keep you on that edge.
“you gonna cum for me, baby? that’s right, give it to me, c’mon.”
ellie had learned alarmingly fast just how to coax you into giving her exactly what she wants, your legs starting to tense up as she dives back into you, lips messily making out with your cunt.
you could feel her everywhere and it almost scared you, completely unable to escape the undeniable reality of how fucking in love you are with her and it’s making you feral.
“e-ellie, i think i’m gonna- fuck, i’m cumming!” your mind goes blank as she pushes you over the edge, feeling the waves of it throughout your entire body as you convulsed around her fingers.
your hips buck frantically as you ride out your high, ellie’s muffled moans vibrating against your sensitive entrance as she greedily lapped up your juices.
“oh my god, ellie! fuck, i love you, i love you, loveyousomuch-” you mindlessly babble without thinking, too far gone to notice the way ellie’s eyes widen and her thrusts speed up ever so slightly.
you let her indulge in you until you had to squirm away from the overstimulation, your body limp and tired after she had just wrecked you. you try to regain your bearings, feeling ellie remove herself from between your legs and move so she can hold you against her.
she litters sweet kisses across your face, humming happily as you turn your head to capture her lips with yours once again. you whimper at the taste of yourself on her mouth, melting into her until your breathing starts to even out.
“you okay?” she whispers, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down your arm. you hum sleepily, nodding your head in response.
“are you okay?” you ask her back, voice soft and a little hoarse now.
“yeah, i’m okay, baby. y’did so well for me.” ellie pecks the top of your head, completely smitten as she looks at your limp body cuddled up in her arms.
she thinks back to a few minutes ago of you professing your love for her as she made you come undone, her stomach fluttering at the recent memory. she debates waiting until you’re not half asleep to ask about it, but she just can’t help herself.
“did you mean what you said? when you said that… you loved me?” she’s nervous to ask, not knowing how she’d react if you had just said it on a whim. nothing more than just words.
“i said that?” you ask in confusion. you look mortified and ellie’s stomach twists. these aren’t the butterflies she had felt with you moments before, it felt like she’d been poisoned.
“y-yeah… you said it when you finished.” you’re quiet for a little while, this worries ellie. she feels like an idiot, her palms are starting to get sweaty. did she just ruin everything? fuck, fuck, fuck-
really you were just trying to rack your brain for when those very important words had left your mouth. and then you hear it, transported back to the memory in a third-person view.
she’s making you feel so good, your back arching as the shockwaves of your orgasm slam into you. you look down at her, and she looks undoubtedly obsessed with you. she’s latched onto your pussy like she’s starving, drinking in everything that you give her. and then you say it. a raw and terrifyingly real confession of, “i love you.” and you say it again and again, chanting it like a prayer as you promised her your heart like it was nothing.
“oh my god, ellie i’m so sorry.” she almost winces, she shouldn’t have said anything-
“i wanted to tell you how i felt properly on a date or something, not while you made me cum like a fucking loser, shit-”
ellie is confused for a moment, having been bracing herself for you to tell her that you don’t love her the way she definitely did you. but then you didn’t…
oh.
“this is so embarrassing,” you whine, furrowing your brows angrily when you see the cheesy grin making its way across ellie’s face. “don’t laugh at me! this is so humiliating.”
“no no, i’m not laughing at you! fuck no, i thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t mean what you said.” you tilt your head, the both of you now a little confused.
“oh…” you whisper. but if she wasn’t uncomfortable with you saying that you love her did that mean…?
“thought i was dreaming when i heard you say it. but i wasn’t and i am so fucking happy.” she holds you a little tighter now. “i love you so much, been wanting to tell you for a while now.”
“tell me again.” your request is simple but she knew how much it meant. ellie gently takes your hand and holds it in front of her face, leaning forward to press her lips to each finger tip.
“i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” another kiss.
there’s a warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t ignore and you feel so safe in her arms. floaty and calm whilst you snuggle into her side, your eyes flutter tiredly as she tells you she loves you as many times as you need to hear.
maybe getting a little too high with ellie wasn’t such a bad idea.
christ.
"what's wrong baby? you getting tired?"
you've been on top of her for what felt like ages, bouncing up and down on her heavily ribbed cock until you felt numb. although it wasn't her longest strap, it was her thickest one, and the girth alone made symphonies escape from your throat. you felt your eyes droop a little lower as you struggled to lift yourself up again, the burn I'm your thighs becoming too much.
poor thing, you were so put of it that you lost all sense of direction :(
"thoughts you wanted to go all "big girl" on me, hmm?" she dub her nails into your hips, leaving bloody indents as she began to do the work for you. "i want to be on top abby! how come you never let me ride abby?"
you tried to process her taunts, but god. she was so deep in your tummy that you saw a bump right below your belly button. "f-fuck ahh you."
"and you're incapable of doing that, clearly." you felt yourself begin to tear up, the twisted combination pleasure and teasing starting to fuck with your head. your palms were completely flattened against her chest as tears began to streak down your cheeks.
"awww, c'mere princess, c'mon." she beckoned you closer to her, wrapping both arms around your waist as she pulled you down to her, chest to chest. you winced at the feel of your swollen nipples brushing brushing against hers, but you felt your body relax as she cuddled you. gradually slowing her pace to a complete stop.
"abby's been so mean to you, huh? was i being mean?" her voice sounded like honey, the pure saccharine of it all clouding your senses. "mmhmmm", you whimpered into her neck, drool coating your cheeks as you continued to cockwarm her. she felt so good that she didn't even need to move to make you cum, and she was well aware.
"can i tell you a secret?"
"i'm about to get even meaner."
hi!!! don’t forget that even though hbo tlou2 promo might be exciting, the creator (neil druckmann) is a zionist!!!!! PLEASE do not give him any more money. do not watch tlou2 when it comes out. do not fund somebody who openly supports genocide.
the themes in tlou are hugely based on israel vs palestine conflicts. not only are there israeli themes and propaganda in tlou2, but neil druckmann also gets money from the show. do not fund a zionist!!!!!!!!
if you’d like to hear more about neil’s zionism, here are some posts by amazing writers on tumblr!! here and here and here.
one final thing, i’m not here to argue. neil druckmann is a zionist. you should not be funding him. and for the love of god, do not start arguments in the comments. this is not up for debate!! thanks!!!!
Arthur never saw himself as someone worthy of love. When he looked into the mirror he saw an old, miserable and pitiful bastard. Self depreciating comments leaving his mouth every time he had to look at his own face.
That’s until you came along. The way you held his face in your hands, almost like it was made of glass. Because it, in a sense, was. You showed him the love he thought he was so undeserving of. And when you brushed your thumb over his sunburned, scarred skin you swear you could see the pain in his eyes. How desperately he wanted to pull away, how he tried to convince himself you need someone who’s better than him. But when your lips brushed against his, call him crazy, he never wanted to let him go.
There were two sides of him, one who pushed you away and one who yearned for your sweet touch. The touch that made him see a future where he’s not six feet underground after a failed robbery. He tried so hard to deny himself the pleasure of your company. But he couldn’t. It was an endless fight within him. But it was alright. Because the way you smiled at him and patted the empty space next to you at the camp made it all go away, even if it was just for the night.
nghfhsjfjd pleaseeeee
thinking about caitlyn slapping your clit repeatedly as a means to taunt…
you’d be sat on her lap, squirming against her front as you get two fingers tapping your clit roughly. the sinful noises your sopping cunt would make is equivalent to music to her ears, and she’d be having a field day with that shit.
you’d beg for her to actually touch you, for her to genuinely pump her fingers inside you knuckles deep — but we go at caitlyn’s pace. we always go at caitlyn’s pace.
and right now, caitlyn’s having fun smacking your clit again and again, forcing your thighs open; her long nails leaving painful crescent marks on your flesh. at this point, you’d be wriggling like a seal against her, jaw slack as a slew of whines and whimpers exit your lips like running water.
you know if you were to complain again, like you have been for the past few minutes, she’d slow down her pace and prolong her sweet torture. so you bite your tongue, resolving in lolling your head against her shoulder, wincing when caitlyn hits your pussy too hard.
“is it hurting?” she coos, her voice akin to honey mockingly dripping down your ear. you melt against her, moaning as a response.
Hello, Please Help Me – My Son May Die at Any Moment. Donate or at Least Share This Appeal. I am in desperate need of your help. My son’s life is hanging by a thread, and he may not survive without urgent medical treatment. Time is running out, and we are facing a critical situation. I am asking for your generosity to help us save him – either through a donation or by sharing this urgent plea with others.
pleae help this family in any way that you can!!
If you don’t fw all butches you don’t fw any of us-
I fw disabled butches who can’t always care for their femme or their femme is their carer
I fw butches who are their femmes caregiver
I fw autistic and chronically ill butches who can’t “dress butch”
I fw butches who love to always be in suits and ties and all else
I fw butches who are strictly butch4butch
I fw butches who are strictly butch4femme
I fw butches who are useless at manual labour
I fw butches who love manual labour
I fw butches with “feminine” interests
I fw butches with “masculine” interests
I fw butches who are 100% binary cis women who use she/her
I fw butches who’s gender is just “butch” or “lesbian”
I fw butches who’s gender is male aligned or mostly male
I fw butches who are nonbinary and Genderfluid
I fw butches who prefer to bottom
I fw butches who prefer to top
I fw butches who work in “feminine” jobs
I fw butches who work in “masculine” jobs
I fw butches who don’t or can’t work
I fw butches who don’t like sex at all for any reason
I fw butches who are hyper sexual for any reason
I fw butches who do Literally anything because all butches are valid and nobody can tell you different, you are valid, your queerness is valid and your butchness is so valid
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
vi finally has you.
cw — wlw, oral sex (f! receiving), strap usage, strap is referred to as ‘cock’, overstimulation. men and minors dni.
after so many visits to a particular bar to see a particular person, she finally has you exactly where she wanted you. finally.
with stolen glances, sly and slick smiles, flirtations exchanged had you laying on her bed, legs thrown over her shoulders as she ate you out like you were her first meal out of prison. like she could survive off of your sweetness alone.
you all but writhed under her touch, your sniffles and whines filling the room while vi messily ate your pussy accompanied it. a long and sensual lick from your slit to your clit has you arching your back from her, your attempts of backing away from her touch falling short as two strong and calloused hands held firmly around your waist. “don’t run. taste so fuckin’ good right now. been waiting f’this…” the vibrations of her voice made you tremble, having no choice but to sigh and buck up her hips to your touch, desperate to feel more of her tongue-fucking you.
as if she heard your silent plea, her nose rutted up to your clit, tongue delving deeper into your hole to find more of the delicious results of your arousal, begging for the taste like a starved man. “ooou fuucckk vi..” you whined, throwing your head back as tears blurred your vision. she took that as a chance to take one of the hands that were holding down on your waist to take your swollen clit, her thumb prodding and rubbing experienced circles on it that’s guaranteed to give her those sweet mewls that make her throb. with the same hand that was working on your clit, she teasingly slides a finger from your slit and sinks one in your pussy. so tight, so warm—it could get her drunker than any amount of alcohol.
she knew she had you when you arched as her long finger easily finds and presses firmly against a squishy spot, taking it as a sign to add another finger. “pussy’s sucking me up so good, gonna be as good for my dick, yeah?” she smirked as she pressed and moved even deeper, causing you to cry out her name like a devotion to her, to a woman you only just met a few days ago at a stupid bar you worked. “mmh— yes, yes, vi! gonna be just as good f’you..” you babbled out. you didn’t even know what you was saying for real. as long as she kept on finger-fucking you through it.
“yeahhh, i know you will.” she dipped and gave your clit a nice kiss, like an reward to you for clenching around her fingers, feeling you getting closer and closer. “can feel you baby, squeezin’ me so tight. you wanna cum? c’mon..” she egged you on. but all you can do is nod pathetically as the knot in your stomach became unbearably tight, searching for release at the precipice when her thick and long fingers abused your insides, your juices messily coating her fingers, mouth and even the sheets.
“i got you, baby. c’mon, let go for me. i’m right here.” she mumbled against your sex, eagerly lapping and slurping up your juices. your chest heaves and you swear your vision got even blurrier, “d-don’t stop! fuuckk please don’t stop,” your thighs practically squished her head as she brought you there. she didn’t mind it through. why would she? she would die if it meant a pretty girls thighs crushed her head open as she came on her tongue.
“cumming, ‘m cumming vi, fuck—!!” you braced her as you threw your head back, beads of tears falling from your eyes as you came impossibly hard. gripping the sheets tightly as spots of white clouded your vision. strings of clear and cloudy ropes glazed her fingers and mouth, having her chuckling against your clit as she eagerly lapped and took it all, having you turned into a pathetic, melted mess.
after she was done, she kissed you up to your stomach, your neck, journeying all way up until she found your lips. when she finally made it back to your mouth, her lips and chin were glistening in your essence, so much so it made you a little flustered and self-conscious, but that all quickly disappeared as her lips captured yours. when you moaned into her mouth, her tongue slickly slipped inside your mouth, making her taste you on her tongue. she pulled back slightly, speaking against your lips, “y’taste that? taste so fuckin’ good, huh?” you could only nod weakly as a response, not letting you reply verbally as she kissed you again, making sure you tasted all of you.
you feel her fat cock slide against your slippery and wet slit teasingly, earning her a weak mewl against her lips. “yeah? you want it?” you feel her shit-eating grin against your lips, having you sniffle under her. “a-ahuh, want it so bad vi, please..” she kissed just right besides your lips before she angled her hips in a way that her tip would tease your entrance but not going quite there yet. she wants to feel you squirm first. she quickly got what she wanted, of course. “please—please, vi..” you pitifully bucked up your hips, desperate for any type of friction. your begging brought a chuckle out of her, standing up fully as she grabbed your thighs, folding you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“alright, alright, i’ll give ya what you want. you don’t gotta beg no more, i got you.” she spreads your thighs further, wanting to see her slide into your pussy and watch her cock slowly disappear in it. “look at that..” she murmured under her breath, the sight giving more heat to her core. you bit your lip down, tilting your head back slightly as you failed to keep your voice leveled as she filled you up so good, inch by inch. “oh my gods, vi,” you breathed out, barely even having the time to actually react as she fully sheathed in you, filling you up impossibly good. she groaned as she slowly thrusted into you, getting off at your pussy making sweet squelching sounds that filled up the room. it spurred her on, making her increase her pace so that the noises of wet skin smacking contributed to the nasty sounds that surrounded the room as well.
you squeezed your eyes shut despite looking at you through it all. having vi so deep inside you just felt so, so right. you could get used to this. “mmh, been thinkin’ about this for so long..” you repeated her past saying to her. she rocked into you more, pulling out a little more than wanted before she slammed back into you again, earning a delicious cry from you. “you wanted this so bad, doll? thought about it a lot?” she tilted her head at you. “s-so bad, vi..” you sniffled. “yeah baby?” she panted out, “how much? tell me.” you mewled, your back taut at her words. you were too turned on to care about the potential embarrassment of your confession right now. “nngh, ‘til it hurt— fuck!”
vi let out a low growl, her fingers gripping your thighs a little tighter. “you're gonna kill me," she panted. she took it as a sigh to go harder, deeper, making sure she can do better than your pesky fantasies.
“haah.. yeahhh, that’s it, take it just like that baby..” she moaned, her grip on your thighs growing more firm as she increasingly went harder and deeper, grinning when she heard you moan under her. “oh fuuuckk, vi—!! in s’deep, s’full..” you cried out. you felt her hand graze your tummy before slowly pushing down on it, making you both feel her cock poke through your stomach, your breath caught in your throat. “yeah? y’feel that? feel me deep inside you?” you nodded pathetically, your pussy clenching around her at her words. “ahuh, so deep, feels so…” she leaned in closer at your words, the action making her angle her hips better so that she can hit the spot that makes form tears in your eyes. “mhmm, feels so what? tell vi allll about it.” she pressed a soft kiss right besides your lips as she continued to drill into you, such a vast contrast knocking all of the words from your mouth. babbles of her name spilled from your lips as if it was the only word on your mind right now. mind full with just vi, vi, vi.
“vi— shit! getting close, ‘m getting close..” her cock reached impossibly deep, making your legs shake around her. you didn’t even know that you could get as deep as this until vi came around. thank the gods for leading her to you. her abdomen clenches, feeling herself slightly quivering from her own pleasure. she could cum just like this, deep inside you and hearing pretty wanton moans fall from your pretty mouth. every ridge finds comfort in the home of your pussy, fitting like a puzzle, like the gods lined you together just for you to take her cock. “yeah? you getting close f’me baby?” she breathes out, punting her cock deeper and harder, determined to bring you to that edge again, splitting you open with every jarring snap of her hips.
“cum, pl-leease vi, need t’cum so badly, baby please—“ she looked down at you, and fuck weren’t you ruined. tears lumping up your pretty eyelashes, drool from your pretty mouth, cheeks stained by your tears. you were so beautiful. “c’mon, give it t’me, cum alll over my cock, i got you, fuuckkk…” with a few final thrusts, you crying out her name and the both of you cooing out dirty praises, you came harder than last time, spoiling her cock with creamy cum that even gave a pretty white ring around the shaft.
it didn’t take long at all for her to cum right after you, trembling slightly as she moaned out your name and fucked you through your orgasm. she started kissing all over your face, each kiss followed by sweet nothings against your skin. she never pulled out fully, only slightly as she raised herself up, grinning and looking down at your fucked out expression. no way she was going to stop now.
“think you can give me one more?”
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