soapy

As you looked up from where you were kneeling, you breathed out a sigh of relief. Johnny was here, and he stood in the doorway, dressed in red linen robes just like yours with a matching veil over his head, and on his neck, the runes of the nine houses made a painted collar. As he walked, nine priests, one from each of the old bloodlines, followed him in, banging on golden bowls and burning incense high enough to make your head spin. Johnny looked dazed. 

The room was full of people, but it was as silent as the void. The Celestian diplomats, Lady MacTavish included, and all of the advisors were there to witness you. Even your parents stood to the side, leaving you and Johnny in the center of everyone. 

Finally, Johnny reached his bolster, and he dropped to his knees, prostrating himself fully in front of you, his palms touching together with his arms extended beyond his head, pointing to you like an arrow. You both knew the instructions. You’d both been raised to know them. Everything you’d been taught and told over the years, Johnny had been right there to hear it. He knew what was expected of him, now, and so did you. 

You reached forward, bowing low to him in turn, covering both of his hands between yours and holding them together. 

“Rise and be identified!” The first priest shouted into the quiet chamber. His voice echoed off of the vaulted ceiling, resonating like a bell. 

You sat up straight, as did Johnny, staring at him in the dark, your only illumination the cyonic fireplace and the candles of the priests.

The second priest ripped the red silk veil off of your head, revealing you, crownless, to your groom. There was a thick red mark painted down the middle of your face with wavy lines stemming from it, a symbol of the Pale Star. 

“This is the High Septan Princess of Alpha Astra, and she has come to claim a Celestian!” The second priest’s voice was just as loud, and her high pitch scared you, making your heart pump with adrenaline. 

A third priest ripped the veil off of Johnny and boomed, “This is the Duke of House MacTavish of Celestia, and he has come to offer himself to her.”

You both looked at each other, too stunned to smile, but you felt comforted that you would be in each other’s arms in mere moments. The excitement built up in you like a drug, making you breathe harder and harder. 

“Their palms have touched.” The fourth priest chanted her words. “We will raise them to the Pale Star!”

Everyone in the room, including you and Johnny, put your hands high up in the air, palms turned flat to the ceiling. You could see him breathing, too. His wide chest rose and fell as the incense filled his nose. His tattoos looked like twisting shadows on his flesh.

“The Pale Star demands a sacrifice!” The fifth priest looked down at Johnny, shouting right into his face, then, silent, standing close, ready to hear him speak. 

Johnny licked his lips, and he spoke as loudly as he could, but it was still so strained. “I sacrifice my life to the High Septan Princess of Alpha Astra!” 

Then, the fifth priest painted Johnny’s hands a deep, sanguine red, leaving them dripping as he held them high in the air. You watched the dye run down his arms, looking like open veins on his wrists and forearms. 

The sixth priest came up beside you and keened, her eyes wild and challenging as she stared you down, “The Pale Star demands a sacrifice!”

You took a deep breath and shouted after her, “I sacrifice my life to Duke John MacTavish of Celestia!”

Your hands were cold as the priest applied her paint, and you felt it drip down your arms, too. 

The seventh and eighth priests came forward, and everyone dropped their hands in unison. You placed yours on either side of Johnny’s neck, and he placed his on yours, his huge fingers wrapping all the way around. The dye that was on your palms was cold and slippery, but you hung onto him for dear life, pressing your hands into him like he would disappear. 

The seventh priest took her red ribbon and tied his fists around your neck, and the eighth tied yours around his, checking the knots he’d made to ensure that they were correct. 

The ninth priest finally stepped forward and laid a golden circlet as thick as your thumb on top of each of your heads, fitting it down so that it sat across your brow, marking you as the Sovereigns of Celestia. His voice was louder than all the others as he cried, “We beg the Pale Star to light our path!” He paused, waiting for the audience, as well as you and Johnny, to repeat your piece.

“Light our path!” 

“To keep the void subdued!”

“Keep the void subdued!”

“For its fires to burn the darkness!”

“Burn the darkness!”

“To show us the truth!”

“Show us the truth!”

Now that the ritual was technically over, you had a chance to speak. Some betrothed decided to stay silent, some spoke to their guests, or perhaps prayed aloud to the Pale Star itself, but you spoke only to Johnny. 

“I love you.”

“I love you.” His voice was lost at this point, but he smiled. 

“I promise I will love you, honor you, and bring you peace, no matter what happens to us.” Tears ran down your face in hot lines, falling from your cheeks and onto your painted neck.

In his weak timbre, Johnny forced out his words, “I promise I will love you, I will protect you, and I’ll be your Keeper, no matter what happens to us. Us. You and me, bonnie. Forever.”

He used his hands to pull you into him, pressing his lips to yours in a deep, sensual kiss, feeding you his tongue in front of all of these people, claiming you publicly with all of the fierceness and courage he’d had as your Keeper, now marking you as his wife.

Loud cheering and applause rang through the great hall, and the lights turned up, ending the ritual and starting the party. 

But there would be no party for you. The seventh and eighth priests cut both of your ribbons on your necks and led you out of the ceremony like prisoners, your wrists still tied in front of you. They dragged you down the hall, which was quickly lined with cheering guests, and they shoved you both into your bedchamber, sealing the door behind you with a red cord, only to be opened in the morning. Of course, it was just a rope. You could break through it, if you wished. But that was against tradition. 

The moment the door closed behind you, Johnny snapped through the ribbons around his wrists and took your face in his hands, pulling you in for another breathtaking kiss. His lips felt so soft against your own, and the way he laid his tongue into your mouth made you feel like he was eating you like a dripping fruit, exploring your taste, memorizing it. 

Your attendants had dressed your bed in white sheets in order to showcase the red of your matrimonial paint. Even commoners would be gifted such a thing, although their crimson dye may have been less generous or less vibrant due to its cost. You’d learned about an ancient Terran tradition of some kind, meant to prove virginity through bloodstains. But, in this era, your maiden blood would disappear amongst the red paint of your bodies and hands, symbolizing more than just your sex but your whole hearts ripping open for each other, spilling out everywhere, uncontainable. 

With careful hands, Johnny took off his golden crown and set it on the table with a heavy thud. Then, you bent your head to him, and he took yours from you as well. No longer were you the Sovereigns of Celestia. In here, you were just two people, loving each other amongst the stars.

Johnny lay you down, and he moved his body on top of you, his shoulders big and rolling as he crawled over your supine form. He was kissing your cheeks and your neck and your collarbone – wherever he could find skin – and his stained mouth smearing red paint on you. The paint on your neck would cover him, messy and bright.

“I want to be naked for you,” you begged him, “like I am your Seedling.”

“No.” Johnny shook his head. “You are nothin’ like a Seedling, Your Grace.”

You looked up at him with large eyes, wondering what he meant. Then, he let out a dark, rolling chuckle, “You are far too bonnie… Besides, Seedlings only need to please me once.” He ripped off your wrist bindings, and he began to peel down your robes, a salacious smile on his face, “You are gonnae please me again and again and again…”

You let out a delighted laugh as he whisked away your thin fabrics all in one strong tug, shocking you with his strength. 

“My Princess…” He stared down at your naked body like a wolf stares at a rabbit. Then, he began to touch you, leaving red streaks all over your breasts and belly and on the insides of your thighs as he opened you up. “I wannae taste you so fuckin’ bad.”

“Please, Johnny.” You nodded your head, out of your mind with lust, whispering to him, “Please!” 

He kept his gaze on you as he dropped his mouth down between your legs, but he didn’t put his lips against your sex. Johnny simply breathed you in, once and then twice, closing his eyelids to enjoy the pleasure of your scent. And then, his eyes found yours again, and as he placed his mouth on you, your body learned of a softness that it had never known. 

“Oh… my… stars…” You gasped, your hips rolling of their own volition, your thighs threatening to close around his face.

Johnny used his lips and his tongue to spread your petals apart, sucking on your most sensitive flesh like it was a decadent treat, eating you open until he could feel the hood of your clit. Then, he smiled, and he centered his attention there, sucking deeply against you until you could barely breathe. 

Then, you felt something thick and heavy prodding at the pliant entrance of your pussy, nestling itself right inside of your hole. You realized that it was his forefinger, and your heart raced, imagining how much larger his cock would be. Your own fingers felt like nothing compared to the fullness you were experiencing with just one of his. 

Johnny saw the worry flash through your eyes, and he purred his raspy words, talking against your body, unwilling to take his mouth away from his meal. “I know, bonnie. I’ll take my time. I promise, I willnae hurt you.”

Then, with a bit of pressure, his fingertip slipped within you, gliding through your walls down to his first knuckle, and you felt him rub against you from the inside, his movements gentle and slow.

You cried out in a deep, animal sound, your mouth hanging open in pure bliss. Between the wet warmth of his mouth and the thick prod of his finger, you thought you might come. 

“Should I stop, Your Grace?” Johnny’s smile was teasing and sly. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

You glared down at him, your whole body trembling from his touch, shaking your head, “No. No… Please…”

Johnny returned to his invasion, suckling against your clit in waves of pressure before taking his lips away and licking you in big, long swipes. Right when you were on the edge, he would switch his method, letting you ride your hips against his mouth as much as you wanted to. Your hands were in his hair, not really doing much except spreading your paint on him, and every now and then, you could feel his finger sink that much deeper until finally, you felt the knuckles of his hand resting against your core. 

“Are you… Is your finger all the way inside of me? It feels so deep…” You asked, trying to make sense of what you were feeling. 

“Aye,” Johnny moaned, “and you feel like Heaven, Your Grace. I cannae wait to have you around my cock.”

He pulled his finger all the way out of you, and as he pushed it back inside, you felt it slide in with ease, coated in your slick come, your body easing his way. The sensation made you cry out, and when he repeated it, faster and faster, he began to suck on your clit with the same rhythm, dragging you through a feral orgasm, making you shout at the top of your lungs for him.

“Johnny!” You felt your muscles clench tight. “John–” A wave of sparkling pleasure surged through your body, hitting you in bursts of energy and light. “Ahhnnghh!”

“Tha’s it, love. Tha’s my girl. So good. So fuckin’ good.” Johnny buried his mouth against you, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. 

You thought that would be the end of his patience. You remembered him doing far less for his Seedlings, and so you expected him to bring you his cock, eager for his own pleasure. But he didn’t. In fact, he went right back to his earlier ministrations, now settling another finger against your quim beside the first, dipping into your core and using your silken fluids to help fit this new, challenging girth inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck… Johnny… Wait…”

“Wha’s wrong, bonnie?” He pulled his hand from you, keeping only the tips of his fingers nestled at your entrance, and planted a chaste kiss to the top of your mons, looking up at you with concern.

“Don’t you…” How should you put this? “I thought you would want to breed me, now.”

Johnny grinned, looking down at his hand as his fingers began to slip back inside of you again, shaking his head. “You’re too tight for me, Your Grace. I willnae hurt you…” His timbre turned sinister, “No matter how badly I wannae breed you.”

Instead of licking your quim, Johnny lifted himself up to lay beside you, your bodies facing each other. You lay your thigh over his hip so that he could still work his hand inside of you, but now, he was kissing your mouth and your neck and your breasts, pulling on your nipples in deep, hollow sucks, laving at your peaks to make you sigh. 

You were getting close to coming again, the electric sparks of your orgasm alighting in your veins, and you were moaning for him softly, vocalizing your pleasure as he gave it to you. 

“You are making me feel so good, Johnny… Mmngh… You don’t… Nngh… You don’t have to call me… By my title… Anymore…”

Johnny sped up his touch, fucking you as deep as he could on his hand, his two thick digits reaching a very tender spot inside of your pussy, scraping it with the softness of his fingertips, listening to you keen with every intrusion. He used his free hand to grab you by your hair, making you look at him, watching you fall to pieces under his efforts, “I will call my wife… whatever… I fuckin’ like… Your Grace.”

You slammed into an orgasm, screaming, bucking against him like a beast. 

“Mrs. MacTavish…”

“Johnny! Oh, fff–”

“My bonnie girl…”

You had hot tears in your eyes and you gasped, realizing that you felt something wet and warm drip between your legs. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, looking down at his hand and then turning his eyes back on you. “You look so damn beautiful when you come for me, Princess.”

“Mmmnnghhh! Anhghh! John… John… Yes!”

Suddenly, you were flat on your back, and Johnny had moved his body between your legs, his head returning to your quim, licking deep into your hole. He began moaning as he tasted your come, and you could hear the slick sounds of his tongue as he delved into you. 

“Mmngh… Do I taste good, husband?”

Johnny moaned against you, his tongue still deep inside. You weren’t sure if he groaned at your use of his fresh, new title or from your suggestive question, but his eyes darted up to you with a threatening look in them. 

“Mm-hmmm…” He lifted your hips with his hands and held you to his mouth, getting the angle just right so that he could reach that much deeper. 

“Oh, Johnny! Please… Right there… Stars, right there.”

He obliged you, and his eyes fluttered closed, feeling your body shiver for him, taking your weakness as praise. 

Then, he let your hips fall back to the bed, red stains covering him all over, and he began to kiss your quim as if it was your mouth. He wasn’t doing it to bring you to orgasm. He just wanted to kiss you like that, and you watched him give in to his greed, the joy of it burning deep inside your belly. 

“Can I taste you like you’ve tasted me?” You asked him softly. 

He looked up at you as if you’d spoken another language. He was frozen in place, his mouth slack, caught in time, staring at you with wide, bright eyes. 

“Is that… Would you like that?” You asked again, worried that you’d committed some sort of sexual faux pas. Perhaps that act was considered taboo or strange. You had never seen it done, but you’d always wanted to lick his come as it dripped from his tip after his rituals, and you thought he would let you.

“Bonnie… You dinnae need to do that for me.” Johnny sat back on his heels and began to squeeze your thighs, moving up to your belly, covering you in red dye as he comforted himself with your plush body. 

You sat up, kissing his mouth, petting his cheek, holding onto his neck like you had during your handfasting. “What if I want to do it? Will you allow me?”

“Aye…” He licked his lips, the paint there had been a thin coat, now dry and permanently tinted on his mouth in messy streaks. Johnny looked nervous, and you just wanted to make him feel good. 

You sat up and brought your hand to his shoulders, peeling back his robes. He untied the waist belt, and the fabric fell open, hanging off of his arms until he pulled them out of the sleeves, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you slowly, ever so gently. He was being so careful with you.

In his lap, his cock stood tall and ready. It was drooling clear beads of precome out of the tip, and the veins of it were fiercely engorged. He looked like… 

“Did you take the serum?” 

You weren’t sure how you were going to feel if he said yes. Part of you was looking forward to experiencing the natural version of what he’d always been drugged to do. But, he shook his head and shrugged, “Nae. The serum doesnae work on Celestians. I didnae have the heart to tell you. Nor the ability, I suppose.”

“So, all of your Seeding rituals… That was just –”

“Just me, aye.” He nodded, his chest heaving, his body clearly eager and excited for what was about to happen to it. But, his face twisted from pleasure to concern, and he tried to shake himself out of his trance. “If you wannae stop, bonnie, it’s al–”

“No.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, and a tentative smile came back to his face. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t ever want to stop. I don’t care how many times you need to come. I want them all, Johnny. I want to taste it. I want to feel it happen inside of me.”

“Nine fuckin’ hells…” Johnny laughed softly, his face full of a contagious sort of joy mixed with surprise and relief all at once. “If I’m dreamin’, dinnae wake me up.”

You smiled with him, kissing him on the mouth, following him down to the mattress. You kissed his throat, planting your lips on what was left of his runes, before you moved down to his chest. You licked and kissed his wide muscles there, moving down to suck on his nipples in the same way he had on yours. You were very much enjoying his writhing and the fierce groping his hands were giving you as you made your way lower and lower across his belly, admiring his tattoos and little scars as you explored him. 

He was breathing in ragged gasps, and when you made it to his hip bone, he started to buck and groan from the anticipation. You lingered there, dragging it out for him, following that raised, vee-shaped line of muscle that led down to the root of his prick. 

Johnny was wet. His cock had leaked all over him, and his dark curls were matted from it, stuck against his skin and shining in the dim light of the room. You bent forward tentatively to taste the clear precome that covered his base, and when you found it generally palatable, you began using your lips and tongue to travel upwards towards his swollen head. 

Finally, when you reached his end, you began to plant generous kisses around his small slit, finding that your attention made even more of his nectar spill out of him, and you began to suck from him, drinking his desire down your throat, enjoying the feel of it in your mouth. 

Your husband seemed like he was struggling. It looked like pain, but from the soft, whimpering cries that were singing out of his throat, you knew it was indeed pleasure. You sucked harder, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel the blood tingling in your lips. Then, you thought, if it feels good for him to sink his prick deep inside of a quim, perhaps you should take more of him inside of your mouth. 

You aimed for half-way down, to start. But, he was too thick. You barely made it past his head, though you could feel the delightful slip of his velvety foreskin as it rolled away from his glans. Undeterred, you tried again, managing to touch his head all the way into the back of your throat where you felt yourself gag, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to endure it, enjoying the challenge, knowing that he would enjoy you. 

“Ahhff-fuck! Fuck, bonnie! Fuck! Oh, stars… Princess… Oh, fuckkkk…” Johnny kept reaching down to graze his fingers over the back of your hair, and then he would yank his hand away, fisting the ruined sheets, covering his face with his hands, kicking his leg out to dig his heel into the mattress. 

You took your mouth off of him with a pop, and he looked down at you, gasping. You licked his tip as a bead of precome rolled out and asked, “Is this okay? I don’t know if this is right.”

He nodded, but he didn’t have much to say. “So good, bonnie. Doin’ so good for me. You can… uh, you can use your hand, too. If you wannae… Oh, shit.”

“Like this?” You bent to suck him into your mouth again, reaching a little further than before now that you knew what to expect, and you used your hand underneath him, mimicking - or trying to - the way he milked himself after breeding his Seedlings. 

His whole body seemed to want to thrust forward, but it was as if every muscle was pulling back against him, like an elk with tight reins, fighting and kicking to run and yet being held from it in a very unforgiving fist. 

“Like that! Your Grace… Jus’ like that. Oh, fuck… Please, Your Grace. Mmnghh…”

His cries had devolved. The mixture of his curses and your formal title was enough to make your head spin, so you kept your pace. It was hard for you to breathe, but you managed where you could. When you remembered, you would swirl your tongue around his head, and although you were a bit self-conscious about drooling over him, there was already plenty of mess, so you didn’t pay much mind to it. Besides, the slipperier his cock became, the more of it you seemed to be able to take. 

“Mmnghh! Nnngh… Ahhhnnnghh… Ngh-ngh-nghhhh…” Johnny cried out like he’d been wounded, his teeth clenched together as if he was in agony. Then, a mumbled warning, “Bonnie, ‘m gonnae come. Gonnae come… I’m… Oh, fuck!”

When the first hot bolt of his seed shot into your mouth, you were surprised. But, you swallowed it quickly as there was really no room in your mouth for anything else. Then, the next heavy load filled your cheeks, and you tried to swallow that, too. But, eventually, there was too much for you to handle, so you let it spill from the sides of your mouth, covering his cock and balls in a mess of his creamy orgasm. 

Pulling away from him, you looked down to admire your efforts. It was so satisfying to know that you had caused his pleasure to peak, and that you’d taken so much of him inside of yourself on your first try. You wanted to test out all sorts of different methods, but you didn’t have a chance to dwell on it. You were being hauled, very roughly, up Johnny’s body and covered by his huge form, pinned beneath him, fully helpless under his weight.

“Was it good?” You asked, still worried about just how torn he’d looked between mindless bliss and violent rage. 

Johnny rolled his forehead across your brow, kissing your mouth, surely tasting himself there, whispering to you, “It was fuckin’ incredible, bonnie. How…? Oh, stars…”

His hand disappeared down between his legs, and you knew he was readjusting himself below you, but you didn’t mind. You preened. He had enjoyed your mouth, and that made you feel so proud in a very carnal way. 

“I just want to make you feel happy, my love,” you confessed to him, petting his hair as he lay panting and out of breath on your breast. “I don’t want you to treat me like you have to protect me from this. I may still have my maidenhead, but I’m certainly not a maid in my mind nor in my knowledge of my own body. I know what feels good, and I know what I like. I want you inside of me.”

Johnny sat up on his elbow, looking you in your eyes, studying you for a moment before he said, “I’m nae goin’ easy on you because you’ve not been bedded, bonnie. Dinnae forget, this is my first time, too.”

“But, all of your Seedlings…” 

“Aye. And did I ever kiss their mouths or hear their pretty voices scream my name? Nae. Did they suck me into their lips as you've done?” He shook his head. “I’ve never laid with a lass tangled in her sheets. My Seedlings may carry the bairns that I’ve made, but they didnae give me a true daughter or a son who would know me. They didnae love me, and I didnae love them. I’m worried that… maybe I dinnae know how to make love to you, bonnie girl.” He reached out and brushed the hair from your face, kissing your hands delicately, “I didnae know it would feel so bloody different, but it does.”

“Different how?” You asked, watching him take breaks from your conversation to suck each of your nipples into his mouth, marvelling at them. 

“This matters to me. You matter. The way you want me to fuck you… to breed you… I want it to be good. I know it can hurt, and I dinnae want to frighten you.”

“I could never be scared of you, Johnny.” You touched his cheek with the palm of your hand. “Not ever. I only feel safe when I’m with you. You’ll keep me safe now, too, won’t you?”

He leaned forward and kissed you on the mouth, pulling away just barely enough to whisper to you, “Aye bonnie. I’ll always keep you safe.”

Johnny used his fingers to play with your pussy again, his hand making the same small circles beside your clit that you had done so often to yourself, but it seemed like he was stalling for time, his lip bitten between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He moved his touch through your soaking lips, pressing between your walls again and again. The feel of his fingers stretching your quim was beyond erotic. It was like your whole core was blooming for him, opening itself up as petals do for the Pale Star in the mornings, welcoming its rays and drinking them in. So, too, was your body falling open to his will, lax and vulnerable.

Then, as if he could not restrain his desire any longer, Johnny positioned himself on his knees, keeping your legs spread, one across each of his hips. Your view of him was as generous as it could be. He towered over you, looming with his inked skin, the furious red dye from where you had touched him bursting in violent splatters across you both, his furry belly expanding with each laborious breath. Your lover looked down at you with the look of a starved man who had tasted tender meat for the first time, your juices gleaming on his chin. He was drunk on you, and he would have more. 

His hand was languidly stroking his cock, and you could see remnants of his come sticking to his fist. You knew he would come again and again, your memories of his long Seeding rituals flashing through your mind. How many times had he spilled himself all over the palace floor as you dreamt  of him sowing it inside of you instead? Dreaming of him dripping it all over your breasts, of rubbing it into your nipples and belly like a healing salve, of using it to soften your unused hole so that he could milk himself inside of your womb, breeding you full… 

As Johnny angled the tip of his cock down to your slit, you held your breath, expecting the pressure, but it didn’t happen. Instead, he ran his length through your folds, whetting himself like a long blade on the outside of your pussy, through your swollen lips. You let out your breath in a gasp, and his hoarse words soothed you, “Easy, love. Gonnae come for me again, yeah? Make this pussy nice and soft for me. Oh… Tha’s it,” he nodded as he watched you cant your hips up against his solid shaft. “Tha’s my good girl. Use me like that, bonnie. C’mon.”

With both hands, he abandoned his prick, trusting you to keep his rhythm, grabbing your breasts in each warm palm and squeezing them. Johnny’s mouth favored your left nipple, holding it cruelly in his fist as he suckled from it, using his full lips to latch on and apply pull after pull of heady pressure. 

As he leaned forward, the new angle meant that you could feel the slip of your pussy against his cockhead, his huge tip softly catching on your throbbing bead with each forward pass. His whole body seemed overly sensitive, now, and even the lightest touch of your fingertips made his breath hitch and his muscles jerk from the tenderness of his flesh. 

A few times, you thought you had thrust deep enough into him for his cock to misalign and fall against your hole, but it continued to bully your clit, no matter how hard you tried to exact control. You dug your nails into the nape of his neck in frustration, your own body overwhelmed by the sensations he was giving you. So you canted your hips, trying to use his body as leverage, and that drew a new, lustful sound from deep inside of his throat. His eyes darted up to you, warning you and begging you at the same time. So, you repeated the same scraping sensation, dragging it across his nape and up into his scalp. 

His mouth came away from your breast in a helpless moan, loud and breathy, the noise alone pushing you to your edge, a flash of heat firing through your body like a lit match. You realized that he was coming for you at the same time, because he lifted himself up on one arm, using the other to control the angle of his cockhead, laying it just inside of your entrance so that all of his warm cream could fill you up and make you slick enough for him to fit. 

“Stars…” You whispered, staring at his throbbing root, feeling his warmth, imagining what the inside of your quim must look like to be so thoroughly flooded with his milky seed. Pulse after pulse, you knew that he was shooting his load into you, snarling like a demon as he watched himself do it. 

Then, he settled himself inside of you with just his head laying in the cradle of your quim, and he found your eyes with his own, moving his hand behind your neck to hold you close to him, his crackling words breathy against your cheek, “Are you alright, love?”

You held his head in your hands, petting his hair, nodding to him, “Yes. You feel so good, Johnny.”

“Take a breath for me, bonnie. Like that…”

As you followed his command, you felt him press forward, and at the same time, you sensed the tight band of resistance that your body kept against him. Then, he retreated, and you were sure that it couldn’t have reached even half of where it should. He was still gazing into your eyes, and you felt like you had hung the Pale Star yourself by the magic of his expression. 

Again, you felt him thrust forward gently and then immediately fall away from you, never raking himself through you with his entire length. 

Johnny saw the confusion in your face, and he smiled at you, kissing your brow just as he’d done with his Maol, reassuring you, “Just the tip, Princess… Mmmnghhh… ‘Til you can take more.”

“I want more,” you whispered back, kissing his neck. 

You were immediately rewarded with a thrumming growl, and when you looked up at him, his eyes were wrenched closed, and his fist tightened in your hair. 

Taking matters into your own hands, you shifted down, just a bit, but it was enough to cause an impact. You felt something give inside of you as he thrust himself up, not knowing yet that you’d moved. A throb. Like you were pressing on a bruise. And then, a delicate soreness that spread through your sacral core, gone almost as soon as it came. He stopped immediately, gasping as if he were the one in pain, his muscles tense and fighting against his will. 

“Bonnie.” Your man looked down at you, sliding himself nearly all of the way out, and then very deliberately – although achingly slowly – driving himself into you until you could feel his fat root settle against you. 

“Mmmm…” You sighed, smiling, full and satisfied in a way you’d only imagined, but the real experience shattered your comprehension, rebuilding your perception from the pieces. “Does that feel as good for you as it does for me, Johnny?”

His cock throbbed, jerking inside of you at your praise, and Johnny’s breaths were short and hitching as he nodded, smiling with you, kissing you wherever his mouth would touch. “You feel perfect, Your Grace. I dinnae ever want this to end.”

As he began to fuck you, his pace became a rolling rhythm, keeping you close to the edge of something like an orgasm, but not in the flashing, sparking version that you knew well. Johnny’s sex was a sea, his waves carrying you back and forth on a long shoreline of shaking breaths and weak kisses and decadent moans as you lost yourself in the tide. 

And for a man who hadn’t spoken to you in more than three years, he certainly had plenty to say now. 

“Do tha’ again, bonnie. Mnghff-fuck… Tha’s so damn good.” 

“Like this?” You took his scarred thumb into your lips and sucked, just like you had on the tip of his cock, making Johnny’s eyes roll white. 

“Yes… Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“Did you like it when you were my Keeper? When I used to put you on my tongue to Awaken?” You asked, repeating the gesture of your ritual when you took his blood on the flat center of your soft, pink muscle. 

“Aye, I fuckin’ did,” Johnny snarled, watching you suck against him as he shamelessly humped his prick into your quim. “You made me so hard. Made me ruin my kilt. Stiff as a bloody stone every mornin’ after.”

He reached between your bodies to play with your clit, dragging you closer to your orgasm with a skillful precision. But, you knew that he was coming unraveled just as fast as you. And you wanted the upper hand. 

“Did you hear me… Mmngh… at night… when I would… touch myself?”

His brow knitted together. His rhythm slipped. To your satisfaction, he was struggling to hang on, his voice on the edge of a hungry meanness. “Aye… And I could smell you. Could smell your come. Makin’ this wee pussy so ready for me… Nghff-fuck… And I couldnae have it.”

“I thought of you every time. Only you, Johnny.”

“Oh, stars –” He growled, his words almost incomprehensible.

“Thought of laying on your Seeding table myself… Mmmngh!”

“Fff-fuckkk…”

“Commanding you to breed me.”

“I’m gonnae come.”

“Fill me up, Johnny. Please! Come in me. Come in – Oh!”

If you had thought that his immense prick had stuffed you to the brim, you were quickly proven wrong. All around him, a liquid warmth bloomed as his seed flowed from him in pulsing bursts. It was almost searingly hot, and you melted like soft butter until you felt yourself twist into a deep orgasm, the muscles of your pussy squeezing him like a fist.

You cried out together, a matching song of pleasure and release, holding on so tightly as if you would escape from his arms into the void. 

For a moment, all you did was breathe. Johnny looked down at you, his gaze dark with worry. He kissed your mouth, lazy and slack, barely sucking on your bottom lip as he pulled back. “Are you alright, bonnie girl?”

You nodded, kissing him back, letting him give you his tongue, feeling his soft moan vibrate in your own throat. Then, you held your brow against his, sharing his breaths, and you told him, “I’m perfect. You are everything to me, Johnny.”

At that, your lover covered you with his body, hugging you so tightly to him, his long cock still throbbing inside of you, still filling you, you hoped, marking you as his own. 

You awoke sometime later. Unable and unwilling to tell the time, still wrapped in Johnny’s arms. He’d taken you again after the first time, almost immediately, putting you in other positions, finding out what made you scream with pure, erotic joy. He loved watching you explore him, letting you play with him all over, the two of you pioneers, adventuring through each other’s pleasure as if you’d discovered a whole new world. 

You looked at the ruin of your bodies and your sheets. There was red dye everywhere. It would stain your skin for weeks, and it would stain these linens forever. You wanted to keep them, you thought. You wanted to sleep on them again, for him to fuck you on them again. You wanted to remember this night so vividly. 

Johnny held you through it all, and you talked about everything. All of your memories, all of his memories - particularly the events he remembered very differently, and all of the things he’d been dying to say to you. It was like you were meeting him for the first time, again and again, seeing your shared past bursting into the present as he described it through his eyes.

Both of you were on your backs, staring up at the stars through the curved window, holding each other’s hands as you’d always done. Johnny turned his head to you and, with a nervous bite on the corner of his mouth, he whispered, “Can I ask you somethin’, bonnie?”

“Always,” you nodded, planting a chaste kiss on his shoulder. 

“Will you let me wear the Maol?”

You spun your head towards him in shock, and as soon as he saw your surprise, he elaborated.

“I’m your husband, now. And I dinnae ever want to give that up. But, I wannae have you in my Maol. I wannae take you as your Keeper. I want you… Just this once, I want you to make me… Make me do my duty for you, Your Grace.”

Your face must have worn a fearful expression because Johnny shook his head, wiping a hand down his face, whispering, “I’m sorry. Neverm–”

“Alright.”

He looked up at you, his eyes tentatively hopeful. “Alright?”

“It’s almost morning, Keeper MacTavish. Will you help me Awaken?” You put on your best attempt at a casual tone and swung your legs around on the bed, setting your feet on the floor and indulging in a very real stretch. 

“Y–”

As soon as you heard noise from his mouth, you turned your eyes on him, almost as if to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. But, when he realized your game, he shut his lips and nodded. He stood, picking up his knife from the table and bringing it to your bedside. It gleamed in the starlight as he walked toward you, his hard cock bouncing with each step. 

You pretended not to see his prick, grabbing his Maol from where you’d discarded it yesterday, and turning it over in your hands. 

“Kneel,” you commanded, your voice gentle but still assertive. 

Johnny knelt. You kept him there for a moment, watching his swollen cock jerk with excitement. The small slit had started to drool again, his anticipation clearly evident. 

You offered him the Maol as you’d done a thousand times before, and he opened his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed as it locked into place against his jaw. You pet his cheek as you usually did, smiling down at him. His eyes were locked on you as you lay your hands in your lap, waiting for his ritual.

Standing, he held out his hand and cut his thumb, watching the blood rush to the surface, beading and dripping down his palm just like his seed down his cock. Then, he turned it to your lips, touching it to the bottom of your nose and down your top lip. As he crested over your bow, you opened your mouth and gave him your tongue, asking for him to place his mark there, to let you take his blood. 

When his thumb touched your tongue, you heard his breath catch in his ribs. But, you didn’t move. You didn’t suck on it. You didn’t lave him with your wet muscle. You allowed him to finish, and he knelt in front of you again. You sat patiently, watching him wipe the blood on his opposite wrist and holding it tight to close the wound. Only when his eyes looked up at you again did you speak.

“Thank you, Johnny.” You smiled, and you stood, making sure that your well-loved pussy ended up right in front of his nose, giving him time to scent you for a short moment. Then, you walked to your vanity, talking to him over your shoulder. 

“Remind the attendants that I’d like to store those bed linens in my personal capsule. They should leave the stains on,” you turned to him to clarify, “Make sure they know.” Then, you went back to your mirror, applying his favorite perfume and craning your neck. “Would you like to smell my perfume for today, Keeper?”

Like he’d never missed a step, Johnny was right behind you, bending over you at a polite distance, his breaths soft against your skin as he scented you. 

“Mmm…” 

You heard him moan appreciatively, and you turned to smile at him. Then, your face fell, turning serious. 

“I’m so sorry, Johnny. In all of this chaos, I forgot to send for your Seedlings this week. But,” you cast your eyes down at his straining phallus, “I can see that you are in desperate need. I refuse to have your health in jeopardy when we are so far from the palace.”

You stood, walking a short way over to the table and sitting on top of it, crossing your feet at the ankles and placing your hands in your lap. 

“Stand here, please.”

Johnny walked over to you, watching you like a hawk, never really knowing what you would do next but trusting you that it would be for his pleasure. 

“I am not a Seedling, and so I apologize if this is not to your liking, but I will milk you myself this time. Is that alright, Keeper? I do not wish to dishonor you.”

Johnny looked down at you and nodded, watching in shock as you reached forward with both hands and began smearing his slippery precome over his head and down his shaft, making gentle twisting motions with your fists. 

“Mngh…” He moaned softly, his hips rocking forward like he wanted to thrust. 

You looked up at him, pouting a little bit. “I know. It’s not enough, is it?”

Johnny seemed stunned for a moment, but he nodded.

Aye, it’s good, bonnie. Dinnae fash yourself…

As you were jerking him off, you picked up your pace, earning yourself another moan. You looked up at him with the most innocent expression that you could muster and stopped, catching him off guard.

“Can I tell you a secret, Johnny?”

He whimpered a bit, struggling to keep from dragging his cock through your hands himself, but he nodded, his gaze stuck on you. 

“I’ve been touching myself, thinking about your cock…” You gave him big, glassy eyes, digging up genuine shame and fear to make it feel real. 

He reached out to you, petting your hair behind your ear, comforting you. 

“And I can’t take it anymore. I need it.” You bent forward to suckle from his tip, making sure to smear his gloss on your cheek as you pulled away. “Will you breed me, Johnny?”

Johnny closed his eyes and shook his head. No.

“I could command you,” you threatened. His eyes shot open and he stared down at you with a delightful mixture of worry and desire. 

But, true to his station, he shook his head again. No, Your Grace.

“Breed me like a Seedling, Keeper. Your Princess demands it.” 

You lay back on the table and spread your legs, just like they’d done for him all of those many times, submissive and pliant, ready to bear his heavy load. 

Johnny stepped forward, his hands on your thighs. Then, he notched his cockhead in your hole and drove himself all the way inside. There was no easy grinding, no soft mouth or deft fingers to pry you open. He took you raw, and you had to admit, although there was no pain, the rush of fear you felt was very real. 

Suddenly, as if you had – for some reason – forgotten that John MacTavish was a brutally dangerous man, your mind immediately corrected you. He was more than twice your size in every respect. One hand could wrap itself around your throat and take your breath from you. Now, as he fucked you on the table, mating with you in the most primal sense, you realized just how gentle he had been with you. Even at this moment, you knew, he was holding himself in check, only allowing himself off of his leash for the thrill of it, but there was still plenty of length left in the chain. 

You tried to hold back your moans, but he did not. He was grunting like a wild boar, biting down hard against his Maol, his eyes roaming over you freely, taking in as much of your body as he wanted. 

“So gentle with me, Johnny…” You taunted him as your body was enjoying his pounding pace. “But, I’m stronger than you give me credit for.”

Suddenly, you were being lifted and carried, your legs wrapped around his hips, only for your back to meet the cold glass of the viewing pane next to your bed. This window faced the rest of the floating space station, and although you knew that the shielding would not allow you to be seen, you imagined that it would, sharing your fantasy with your lover.

“Johnny, wait.” He did not wait. “Not the window. Someone might see… Mmnghh… you dishonoring your… oh, fuck… your Princess…”

You watched his eyes flash with a sly grin as he felt you start to come. That look on his face was so comfortingly familiar. Every time you’d raced each other, tricked each other, challenged each other; he was right there to push you that much further. 

Once you’d stopped dripping all over him – the wet noises that your quim was making were absolutely obscene – Johnny turned your body around and let your legs dangle below you while he took you from behind. With every thrust, he speared himself inside of you from base to tip and back again, your plump ass making wonderful smacking sounds against his hips. He pushed your body forward, curling his arm around your front, holding your shoulders to keep you upright, crushing your tits to the cold glass. 

“Mmnghh! Johnny… Johnny, please… Someone… will… see…” 

“Mmmmm-hhmm…” A long snarl of affirmative pleasure resonated through his chest. 

Aye, let them see us, Your Grace. Let ‘em see their Princess full of her Keeper’s fat prick.

You knew he was coming from the groan that rattled in this throat, a barking, rabid sort of sound since his muzzle was locked between his teeth. Inhuman. His cock was buried deep inside of you, reaching places you weren’t really sure were meant to be found, pouring himself into you like an endless font. 

He held you there against the glass, catching his breath in waves, the metal of his Maol cold upon your cheek, and the reflection of your fuck-drunk faces in the window was so very satisfying.

When he pulled himself out, you felt his hot seed rush down your thighs and drip onto the floor, and as he gently set you down, you almost lost your balance, your knees bloodless and weak. So, he swung your legs over his arm and moved you away from the window. 

You longed to be deposited in your messy bed to sleep a bit more before you came back to life, but he carried you into the bathing chamber instead. The basin was much smaller here than in your palace, but it was still plenty large enough for you both to fit.

He filled it, sitting you on the edge to wait for the warm water to flow inside, the Maol still in his mouth. You thought your play would have been over with, but you weren’t sure. So, with a quiet voice, you said, “You did very well, today, Johnny. Do you think they saw us?” When he turned his attention back to you, you reached for his well-used prick and lifted the tip to your mouth, planting wet kisses down its fat, flaccid body, tasting him and yourself, enjoying the hedonistic softness of your lovemaking.

Johnny put his hands on your cheeks, watching as you worshiped his sex, and nodded his head. Aye, Your Grace. I think they did.

“I’m sure they’re coming for us. Where should we hide?”

Your Keeper lifted you into the bath and followed you in behind, pouring your perfumes and oils in the stream generously, sinking down into the pool behind you, turning you so that you could both see out of the circular viewport in this room. 

He raised his hand and pointed out into the void, wrapping you tightly to his chest in his other arm. You followed his finger and saw his escape plan. 

There, framed perfectly in the round, clear glass, was Celestia, the Lost Planet, your new home. 

The End

One of your mother’s advisors also paid you a visit, probably at her behest, speaking to you about copulation and pregnancy, informing you in a regimented level of scientific detail of how you would bear royal children, dangers to look out for, medicines to take and to avoid. You were warned of the pain of sex, but it didn’t scare you. 

There would be no worse pain than losing your Keeper.

Your mind fed you flashes of what you’d done together last night in the quiet dark. His breaths against your bare skin. The slip of his warm come that he’d smeared across your hip and thigh. The sound of his feral rutting against his fist. He hadn’t even taken the ritual serum, and still he’d spread his seed for you. 

You’d snuggled close together in your bed, and you’d spoken to him for hours about your shared memories, both difficult and fond, talking to him in your special way. If anyone had been listening, it would have sounded one-sided, but you knew in your mind what Johnny would say. You could read him like a book. And the sound of his muffled laugh had filled you with so much joy. 

You didn’t mention your confession again. You’d told him the truth, and that was enough for you. 

After your Awakening, and the financial management meeting with your mother, you’d taken the time to send the Emperor’s gift of forty-nine war vessels to Admiral Toll, one of Lady MacTavish’s commanders, so that she could integrate them into the Celestian fleet. They weren’t doing you any good floating around in space. 

You’d also begun receiving economic, social, and geological reports from various leadership organizations on the planet, and many of your would-be advisors had taken the time to introduce themselves while they were on-board the station for the festivities. Of course, no one was expected to remain for the entire Trial. Sometimes, these proceedings would take more than a month, but everyone managed to make an appearance as was expected. 

You had been asked to attend a lecture on the history of Celestia, and while you found it quite engaging, it was hard to keep your mind on anything anymore. It was just Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. All of him, all of the time. His laugh, the sound his cock made when it was trapped inside his fist, the smell of his hair after a bath. You stared down to the floor as you sat in the large amphitheater, listening to the expert historians share their knowledge, and with your eyes, you traced your Keeper’s shadow as he stood over your shoulder. You imagined that, were you to cut it out of the carpet and roll yourself up in it, you could wrap it around your body fully, smothering yourself in his immense shape. 

You didn’t need to imagine it, really. The way you’d slept together last night, your body beneath his body, both of you naked, had revealed the weight and warmth of him. He didn’t touch you in any place that would take your honor from you, nor did his cock lift itself to your quim to breed you. Yes, he had hardened in the night while he slept, but other than enjoying the feel of his heavy phallus as it lay on the soft meat of your thigh, you let it wax and wane at will, undisturbed. 

But, despite your chastity being still very much intact, you knew Johnny’s body, and you knew his soul - loyal and pure and brave. You would never know his heart, but you were sure he loved you in some way, even if it was courtly or in some abstract version that fit his passion and purpose. That was alright with you. Your love for him did not require reciprocation. You’d love him until you found each other again in the eternal void, clutching onto him in the darkness as you had in your sheets, safe and sound. 

The lecture ended. Now, lunch. Each new event had you going through the motions like you were the minute hand on a clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. 

It was always food with these people. True, you were never one to miss a meal. You wore the generous curves to prove that, but the idea of tasting and chewing and swallowing made your throat burn. 

Johnny helped you up and led you to the great hall, finding you a comfortable seat next to a cyonic fireplace, its synthetic warmth the perfect temperature to loosen your tense muscles and bones. 

Those who sat at your table were assigned. Someone - one of the advisors, you were sure - picked them by hand, you assumed. The Septan Princess should not play favorites. 

They took their places, chatting politely amongst themselves, making gracious comments as the first course arrived, but no one ate. They wouldn’t until you took a bite. So, you dipped your spoon into the liquid of a pale soup and brought it to your lips, tasting spices and full fat cream before swallowing it down your throat. 

You let the spoon rest on the side of the bowl and leaned back in your seat. Johnny looked at you with more concern now than he had during the other meals. He moved the bowl a breath closer to you, trying to feed you despite your protesting. 

“Your Grace.” Faolan Ruadh’s thick accent drew your attention. He was late. You looked down at the table card, and he was supposed to be seated to your left with Johnny on your right.

You hadn’t noticed.

“Sir Faolan.” Your timbre was flat and unwilling. You stared at the soup with something like disdain but with much less energy.

He took your hand in his and brought your fingers to his lips, daring to actually kiss them this time, and said, “I apologize for my tardiness, Your Grace. I needed to finish getting my estate in order before tonight’s Trial, and as much as I appreciate duty, I abhor the paperwork.”

Faolan gave you a slight smile, hoping to find some common ground with you, but he was wrong. You loved paperwork. The exactness of it all. The magic of sending off a completed form and getting back just the result you wanted. So, you remained silent. Staring at your soup. 

Johnny looked over at Faolan and then down at your bowl, moving it that much closer to your table’s edge.

“Are you not enjoying the dish, Your Grace?” Faolan asked. 

You glared at Johnny, wordlessly chastising him for gaining an ally. He glared back. 

Faolan’s eyes were as sharp as your Keeper’s. When he noticed your private - silent - conversation, he shook his head and turned back to his meal. “Forgive my intrusion.”

Johnny changed his face, nudging you:

C’mon, now, bonnie. Play nice.

You sighed, turning to the suitor and replied, “No, I’m sorry. The soup is perfectly well-made. Thank you.”

Deliberately, you took another bite, making sure to go back for a third and fourth bite to appease your audience. 

“Celestian pumpkins,” an older woman piped up across from you. It was one of Ruadh’s advisors, Chancellor Ulric. 

“Oh,” you said, inclining your head. “How lovely.”

“It’s one of our finest crops, Your Grace. Bit of a wee aphrodisiac if you take too much!” Her face lit up as she drank down another spoonful, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Is that so?”

“Why, yes, Your Highness. In fact, didnae they serve this exact dish at your parents’ seventh handfasting anniversary, Sir Faolan? Must be why you were such an early bairn that winter.”

Sir Faolan nearly choked on his soup, quickly wiping his mouth with the soft linen of his napkin. You laughed, quieting yourself when he looked up at you, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. 

“Well,” you shrugged, “at least we know it works.”

You ate a little more as the Celestians chatted around you. You heard about the tamed bull elk of Clan Ruadh, huge domesticated beasts with twelve-cubit-wide antlers that had been used in battle by their clan for centuries. They told you about the River Senn and the River Bann which flowed through the capital city, flowing so close to one another but never managing to touch. There was an old folktale where Senn and Bann were lovers, but you only heard half the story until someone changed the subject. 

Johnny seemed to be enjoying the conversation even more than you, his eyes lighting up at certain tales or mentions of important places, nodding when they asked him if he remembered this or that. 

“And in the spring, after the Ten Rains, she’s the most beautiful green you ever did see. A perfect planet,” Ulric opined, smiling to herself over her Vadic rockberry pudding. 

“Aye,” Faolan frowned a bit, nodding his head. “Perfect. Except for the millennia of Celestian bones buried beneath her.”

The table fell quiet, and a serious cast enveloped every once-smiling face. 

“The Alandrians,” you guessed. 

“Aye. But, we have Alpha Astra and the Nine Houses to thank for our freedom. Only a few decades have passed, and in that time, we’ve begun to rebuild our empire stronger than ever before.” Faolan lifted his glass. “To Celestia, and to the Septan Princess; we are bound in our blood.”

“In our blood!” The rest of the table lifted their glasses and repeated his salute. You’d remembered reading their motto which was etched into every ship in their fleet. 

You drank, in order to show your allegiance, but you were lost in thought, trapped in the labyrinth of your new duty as their Sovereign. For a world so decimated by pain, how could they raise themselves up to face their future? Was revenge the only motivator, or did they truly want to bring peace to the realm?

Time would tell. 

“Your Grace.” Faolan turned to you. “Would you join me after our meal for a turn in our station’s botanical garden? If I am to meet the void tonight…” He glanced over at Johnny with a friendly but knowing smile. “I would like to smell the fruits of our planet one last time.”

“I have no prior arrangements, Sir Faolan.”

“I’ll take that as confirmation, then.” He smiled, taking your hand in his for a moment before releasing you again. 

You bowed your head slightly, and sat back in your chair, waiting for the final course. 

After you were finished eating, you exited the great hall and moved through the corridors with Faolan. He offered you his arm, and you stared at it for a moment before you decided to take it. 

Johnny followed at your other side, scanning ahead. 

“Are the gardens on this level?” You asked.

“Yes, Your Grace. It willnae be far,” he told you. “If I may say, you are radiant this afternoon. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you, quite well.” You tried to ignore the guilt that curled up in your chest. You had no reason to be ashamed about the way you slept, even if it was in the arms of your Keeper. 

“And your perfume…” He smiled, bending just a little closer to smell you. You craned your neck a little but not much. “I’ve nae smelled anything like it. Quite lovely, that.”

“Thank you, sir. A custom blend from our palace apothecary.”

“You’ll be popular in Celestia wearing that, Your Grace. It hasnae been published much in any of the so-called official documentation, but our keen sense of smell is what kept us alive through the hard times. Our ancient farmers learned to go out into the fields and crush up the fox barley in their palms before they took it to their mills. They could smell disease, or if it was too dry and lean. That’s why we have our wee ability all these millennia later.” Faolan bent to smell you again, indulging himself, humming a bit to express his pleasure. “I could smell you before I came to the great hall.”

“Before…” You looked up at him in disbelief.

He smiled down at you, “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I assumed John told you as much about our biology in your time together.”

You turned your head slowly toward Johnny, looking at him with a mixture of shock and shame. 

Johnny wasn’t looking at you. He stared straight ahead down the path, his cheeks pink up to his eyes, giving him away. 

“No.” You stared at him for a moment longer. “It never came up.”

“Aye, understandable.” Faolan chuckled, “Plenty of cultures might try to hide themselves under too much powder and chemicals like Pheranix when they learn of it. But, that ruins our enjoyment. We love scents, even the nastier ones. When a Celestian lad finally plucks up the courage to ask for a partner, he’ll learn their favorite smells, and he’ll wear them himself. My poor wee brother tied a bloody wren branch around his neck for a week before his lass noticed him.”

“Ouch!” You laughed. “The spikes… Did she appreciate the gesture?”

“Aye, they’ve got three wee bairns and one on the way.”

You had reached the door to the botanical garden, and the earthy, vegetal aroma of the enclosed space hit you like a wall. It was warm and humid inside, and as you walked deeper through the chamber, you felt like you had left Station Etagh and found yourself in a vibrant jungle. 

“Oh,” you gasped with surprise. “If it’s this strong for me, I can’t imagine what it must be like for you two.” 

Faolan took in a deep breath, his eyes fluttering closed with pleasure in a way you well recognized. “Mmngh… For Celestians, if a scent is good enough, it can make you… quite affected.” Then, he turned to Johnny, and he asked, “Do you recognize the smell of the thistle?”

Johnny nodded, a blank expression on his face. 

“It’s generous of you to allow your Keeper the indulgence of smell. Very rare to see. I thought you were simply taking his physical disposition into account.”

“No, sir. I just don’t believe Johnny should be separated from his humanity for the sake of proving his loyalty or other such nonsense. His devotion has never been in question.”

“You have a good heart, Your Grace. Our planet is in much need of that.” Faolan’s voice was a little sad, but he walked on, leading you through the garden. 

You and your male companions took your time, smelling flowers and bark and all sorts of natural wonders in the garden. They could smell things that you couldn’t manage to scent at all, and your insides stirred thinking about how Johnny had treated you last night, his nose buried deep between your legs, taking you in breath after breath. 

When you finally reached the end of the garden’s path, Faolan took his leave from you. 

“I know you dinnae want to talk about the prophecy, but please reconsider your desire to reassign our planet. I truly believe you are the best leader for us, and whatever happens, it should be you on the throne.”

You nodded your head. “Yes, we are in agreement. I have committed myself to Celestia. You don’t need to convince me, sir. This has just been… difficult for me, too.”

“I hope you will enjoy your feast tonight, Your Grace. No matter the result of the Trial, our people will be proud to support their Sovereign, just as I am proud to fight for her.”

He bowed, and you returned the motion. “Thank you, Sir Faolan. It is my honor to serve Celestia.”

“John.” Faolan stuck out his hand to shake, and Johnny took it, his fist wrapping around the other man’s forearm until they both let go. 

Another bow and he was gone. You lingered in the garden for a moment, your fingers reaching for a small orange flower that smelled like butter and lemons, pressing your nose in its petals and breathing in. 

Then, you looked up at Johnny, pinning him with your gaze, “You could smell… everything.”

Johnny put his hands on his hips and looked sheepishly down at the floor for a moment before meeting your gaze.

“I didn’t bathe when we camped in Eykye for two weeks!” You swatted at him, but he dodged your strike, laughing beneath his mask.

Aye, and I liked it, bonnie.

“I can’t believe you, John MacTavish.”

He grabbed the hand that had attacked him, and he lifted your knuckles up to his Maol, smelling the fingers that had held countless flowers in the garden. Then, he leaned forward, scenting your neck to smell your perfume just as Faolan had. 

“Mmngh…” He grunted with pleasure, and you smiled at his attention, holding his hand as you walked back down the corridor to your chamber to change your attire for the feast. 

As the evening stretched on, your attendants dressed you again in an elegant, flowing gown of your chosen blue, and your crown sat across your forehead with very traditional gold jewelry to match. You wore your mother’s ring and your grandmother’s necklace. All the symbolism of the Nine Houses was visible in your bearing. 

Johnny looked much the same as he always did, but you noticed that the attendants had made sure his hair was freshly trimmed and his mohawk styled high. 

You walked with him into the feast, and tried your best to put on a brave face, but you watched him carefully. When Faolan would speak to you, Johnny would look away into the crowd. When you had been asked to dance by your suitor in the traditional Celestian way, Johnny had watched you at first, but then he would look towards the stars, or he would survey the room. Only when he was sure you weren’t looking at him did you feel his eyes on you. 

Finally, the festivities drew to a close, and Faolan stood to speak to your guests.

“Celestians, Astrians, guests of the Nine Houses: we thank the Pale Star for its fire, and we are grateful for all of its blessings, both boon and thorn. Tonight, we honor the High Septan Princess, Sovereign of Celestia, and one day, Queen of our Sacred Solarium.” Polite applause filled the hall. “I meet my Trial ready and willing, as we all are, to lay down my life for the good of her Dominion, and if I should triumph…” He looked straight at you. “I will give myself to my Septan, to this planet and her people, so that we might work together to elevate our destiny to unknown heights.” 

Applause and some eager cheering erupted in the hall, and Faolan bowed to you from across the room. Then, the chamber began to clear as the guests made their way to the boxes of the arena, their faces smiling with excitement. 

You looked up at Johnny who was standing behind you, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was watching Faolan. 

You grabbed his hand, and he cast his gaze down to you. 

“Are you ready?”

He nodded. 

You walked with him to the arena just as you had before, but there was a pit in your stomach. When you were finally alone, you turned to Johnny and made him face you, grabbing his shoulders. 

“You will not throw this fight, Johnny. Do I make myself clear?”

He nodded, but he didn’t meet your eyes. 

“John.”

Those bright blues looked at you, then. 

“You will not.”

His gaze flashed down to his feet and then back up to you, his eyebrows knitting together before straightening out in a fearsome resignation. 

“Don’t. Don’t do this to me. He’s not strong enough. He’s not –”

Johnny hugged you in his arms, crushing you. You whispered against his chest, “He’s not… you.”

Your Keeper put his hands on your face, looking into your eyes with a soft expression, and you could hear his voice. 

He’s not me, but he’s good, and he’s gentle with you, bonnie. He’ll take care of you. Trust me.

“No, no, please…” You begged him, “Please, don’t do this.”

He tried to walk into the staging area, but you held onto his arm, trying to drag him back into the hallway. Eventually, your tussle was visible to the crowd. They could see you struggling together, and there were a series of murmurs and whispers and hushed conversations as you walked further into the pit. 

Johnny broke free from your grip. He took out his Maol and handed it to you. He removed his kilt, grabbing his knives in his hands. Then, he walked towards the fighting ring, his eyes on Faolan who stood at the other end of the arena. 

Faolan raised his blades, his stance aggressive and intentional. You knew that he may not be the stronger fighter, but he intended to give his whole heart to the matter. As you watched the suitor cross the floor, you thought you would see Johnny sprinting to meet him, knives flashing in the lights. 

But he didn't. Johnny simply watched Faolan approach, standing there like a prisoner gazing upon the gleaming sword of his executioner. Waiting for the inevitable.

You looked around for something, someone, anyone who would help you. Usually, you relied on your Keeper to step in and save the day. To protect you. To give you what you needed, to be the man you needed. But now, you felt so very alone. He was doing what he thought was right. What he believed in. What was best for you.

But you didn’t want what was right. You wanted Johnny. 

Your eyes scanned the great, arching ceiling of the arena, searching the stars for help. At first, you thought all was lost. Your heart shattered, and you felt your throat closing up. Gasping, you begged the Pale Star for a sign. For anything. Then, etched into the top of the viewing window in big, bold letters was the Celestian creed: Bound in our blood.

Bound in our blood…

The words gleamed, and you realized what you had to do.

Johnny moved forward, walking towards Faolan to start the fight, and you wailed at the top of your lungs. 

“John! Stop! I command you to stop!”

He stopped. He was still your Keeper, after all. 

Faolan stopped too, watching you carefully, shocked that you would interrupt at such a critical moment. 

Johnny’s shoulders sagged, and it almost looked like he was moving against his own will. The muscles of his back banded together, battling beneath his skin, and when he did turn himself toward you, it seemed like he was in pain, staring straight at the floor.

You watched as he fell to his knees and dropped one of his blades. With the other, he positioned it with the tip facing his heart, holding onto it with both hands, trembling, waiting for you to keep your word about your promise to kill him for throwing the fight. 

The audience buzzed with a quiet excitement. You ignored them.

You rushed towards Johnny, and you grabbed the fallen blade, slicing open your thumb, holding it up to the arena, showing them your blood. 

Royal blood. 

Then, you grabbed Johnny’s mohawk and yanked his head back. At first, his eyes were closed. But, when he felt you control his head, he opened them in surprise, his mouth slack. By the time he saw your hand clenched into a fist, it was too late for him to react. A stream of bright red blood dripped from your finger into his open lips. 

He tried to pull away, to close his mouth and escape it, not realizing at first what you’d done. He was looking at you with fear and confusion, the reversal of roles making his thoughts tangled and uncertain. 

You held up your fist high, shouting at the crowd. “This is the blood of the Astral Queen of the Sacred Solarium! The blood of her mother, and the mother before her, flows through my veins.” Your voice boomed through the stunned, silent stadium. “Now, it flows through the heart of John MacTavish, Duke of Clan MacTavish, the seventh son of Lady Mary MacTavish of Celestia.” You paused, looking down at Johnny. “He is Awakened.”

The whispers grew louder. Murmuring spread across the crowd like wildfire. 

You knelt in front of your Keeper, placing the bloody knife back into his hand, whispering to him so quietly that only he could hear you. “Fight for me, John, or die for me. I can’t stop you from doing what you believe in. But, it has to be your choice. I want it to be your choice. I love you.” You took his cheek in your other hand, accidentally smearing your blood onto his temple. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but you looked in his eyes, so wide and so bright, and you told him the only truth you knew in your heart. “I will always love you.”

The look he gave you was something you’d never forget. He was lost. And yet, part of him was so alive, burning bright within himself like starfire. He wiped his lip with this thumb, trying to figure out what was real and what was fantasy swirling in his mind. 

You marched over to your pod and stood beside it, waiting. As your heart pounded in your throat, Johnny stood up, and he broke out into a dead sprint towards Faolan Ruadh, both of his Keeper’s knives shining in his hands. 

Just when he reached the midpoint of the arena, Faolan stuck his blades into the mat with a swift slash, and he held up his hands in surrender. 

“I yield. I yield to the rightful Emperor of Celestia!” Then, softer, he smiled and said, “The prophecy has been fulfilled.”

Johnny stopped running only a few strides away from Faolan and released his blades as well, driving them into the floor. Then, he turned around to face you, shining tears streaming down his face, his mouth still red with your blood, and his eyes the brightest blue you’d ever seen. His lips spread into a wide smile, and his strained voice, cracking and hoarse from years of disuse, carried through the silent arena. 

“I love you, too, bonnie.”

they sat down immediately.

they expected it to be a one time thing until the next time when you have to smack them on the back of their heads for almost tripping one of the poor office workers because they were racing to the briefing room and weren’t watching where they were going.

you smack them again for good measure before demanding that they apologize.

it slowly becomes a common occurrence.

they’re not listening? they get a smack to the head.

being too loud? slap across the face like y’all are in a telenovela.

you’re trying to relax in the rec room but they’re bothering you? bap! bap! bap! and suddenly they’re huddled together on the other side of the couch all pouty and whiny.

soap is mostly causing trouble but gaz is still encouraging it? soap gets a slap to his head and gaz receives a warning hiss.

captain price or ghost don’t see a problem to it, if anything, they use it as a threat when you’re not around.

“you want me to get them cause i can call them in here–”

“no sir!” “please don’t…”

it’s like when a parent calls an older sibling on their younger sibling cause they know they’ll actually listen to them.

they straighten up immediately when you’re in the room and if you pay attention, you can see them shake when you get too close.

they love you tho.

when you aren’t beating the shit out of them, anyone can catch them trailing after you like puppies.

annoying, loud ass puppies who don’t understand boundaries.

———

reader with gaz and soap frfr

just stupid cuties

im a big of gaz x reader x soap, love my trio

will probably write more for them…we will see…