#femme!reader

airport patrons whir past you, their vigour leaving behind a slight draught that you shiver from, a crease in your brow as you rub your arms for warmth.

the place is busy. someone's sprinting to a check-in kiosk, others are nervously jittering about security, some are kissing loved ones goodbye. above all this is the miserable voice on the intercom, announcing imminent departures and further stressing those who've arrived too late.

but really, you don't mind. your mother stands beside you, less meek in expression, more tired by the cacophony around you. this is just another day for her; in fact, she can't wait for it to be over.

for you, this kind of day is sought after. there is a calm bliss that's overcome you, excitement simmering beneath it. this was your father's last work trip for a few weeks, just in time for his and your mother's wedding anniversary. they're heading off tomorrow for a sunny vacation.

the house is your own after that point.

past bustling crowds your eyes focus on the exit of the baggage claim. and as soon as you see the familiar flash of deep blue and gold walking out, you pick up in speed, leaving your mother in the dust.

there are obstacles in your way. the crowd, for one, but more importantly, your own father, who assumes he's where you're headed. why wouldn't he?

reluctantly, you meet his hug. warm cashmere scent envelops you, a stubbly kiss on your forehead. you peek over his shoulder as he whispers a greeting, locking onto the valley green eyes that you've been missing.

first officer williams.

ellie's been your father's flight companion for a couple of years now. with so many hours in the air and nothing to do, a tight bond's growth is to be expected. and that led to ellie's introduction to your family, the frequent inclusion of her at gatherings for around a year now.

as soon as you're freed from your father's grip you run to ellie. she meets you halfway, letting go of her suitcase to catch you. you heave a sigh of relief in her arms, and she's softly chuckling at your eagerness.

"hey, bug, careful. y'almost knocked me over!" ellie presses her arm against your back, squeezing tight to stop your attempt to pull away. not that you really want to—you're just hyper-vigilant around your parents.

and being this close, all you wish to do is press your lips to hers, which is not a good temptation to have at this very moment.

"sorry, sorry, i just... was excited."

"yeah, missed me, huh?" ellie grins, patting your back. her voice lowers to a murmur then, words spoken quick and falling undetected by your parents. "i missed you a lot, baby."

you think—know—that if she could, she'd have emphasised the sentiment with a kiss or two. there's silence in the air, space for the action, but you're left hanging with the forbidden nature of your relationship.

"hey, ellie. how're you?" your mother's voice startles you back to the present.

ellie releases you now, but her gaze does not, even while conversing with the others. you stare back, hands fidgeting. you hope she's looking at you with approval of your outfit choice. of course, you had it picked out all week with the hope that it will please her. it's been over a week since you did last see her, and you know when she gets back she's always eyeing you as though she's starving.

so, your offering of this little white dress is serving its exact purpose. low cut neck, skirt flaring out just above mid-thigh. ellie's excellent at pretending she isn't assessing the sliver of skin between your dress and thigh highs, easily maintaining small talk as your group starts the walk to the car.

"how was the flight?" your mother asks.

"same old, nothing special," your dad replies.

you're hanging back, walking alongside ellie. she chimes in, "it's never 'nothing special', come on. the view was especially neat this time. they would've loved to have seen it."

"sure they would, but they wouldn't've liked that turbulence." he gives a gruff laugh as he lifts his suitcase into the trunk of the car, then offers to take ellie's for her.

"it wasn't that bad," ellie mutters, handing over her luggage without complaint. "they could handle it."

"this one couldn't," your dad says, taking his cap and placing it on your head. as you look at him, you already see the gleam in his eye, that wistful look. and like clockwork, he says exactly what you expect. "she's too scared to follow in family footsteps."

you just happen to come from a long line of pilots. so came a lot of contention when you grew and decided not to attend flight school. years of your education were wasted under the pressure to set yourself up for aviation and exceed in physics and maths. at your refusal to attend flight school, your father bargained for something else in the industry, and was unhappy that you wouldn't even consider becoming a stewardess.

he still is. there's a piece of him present right now that's wishing the navy hat on your head was your own, and not his.

you huff softly, shoes scuffing against the road as you take the cap off, fiddling restlessly with it between your hands.

you feel ellie's hand smoothing down your back. "well, i think you'd rather a pilot who's confident in herself than one who doesn't like it."

"well," your father imitates, slamming the trunk closed. "at least she's a sweet girl. that's all i can say without riling myself up."

you look up, lip drawn between your teeth. even ellie's attempt in softening the situation is invalid. in fact, she feels like further insult to injury.

ellie's the daughter he wanted. it makes sense why he's mentored her for so long, welcomed her so eagerly to the family, and why she gets a ride to and from the airport with him. even still, he cannot appreciate both of you at the same time. it's always praise ellie, and tell you to do better.

you do wonder—how would he react if he knew ellie filled his spot in your life? would it be the same? he could celebrate her for not only picking the same career path, but also for picking up his slack, doing his job for him, and guiding you. or would he despise you both? the latter seems the more likely option.

your father is as self-important as they come. yours and ellie's rebellion means his power is dismantled. because what you do know after many years grappling with the uncertainty of your relationship with him, is that he doesn't like being reminded that he must be active in order to be the good father you need. his bare minimum isn't enough, and you've had to run elsewhere for support. and how dare you?

how dare you sit beside ellie in the backseat, let your thighs touch and let her ask if you've been keeping up with college work? how dare your heart flutter when she gives you the push to do what you're most excited about? she's interested, she lets you tell her about it. it's like she really believes in you, and that means everything to someone who's been underestimated for so long.

"i'm exhausted after that one," your dad sighs, rubbing his temples.

your mother, with her eyes on the road, snorts. "good thing you got all night to recuperate before we head off tomorrow, and a hearty dinner waitin' to be eaten."

you turn to ellie, a hopeful smile on your face as you murmur, "are you still coming tomorrow?"

"'course," ellie says with a nod. she grabs your hands to stop you fidgeting, squeezing your fingers. her voice stays low, the words private. "never too tired to look after you, bug."

"good," you whisper. habit tells you to lean your head on her shoulder, but the fear of looking suspicious to your parents stops you. you keep your heavy head up, knowing that if you can get through this night, tomorrow, she's yours to love without hiding.

whenever your parents take a trip out somewhere—and they love to do so often—they feel comfortable in leaving the spare keys to the home in ellie's palm. with your skittish nature, they feel they could never be too careful when leaving you. it's infantilising, yes, but this time it works in your favour.

at the dinner table, you sit across from your mother and father, ellie next to you. your father looks ready to hit the hay, yawning every few moments, but forcing himself to make it through the meal. your mother took it upon herself to make it as a gesture of gratitude to ellie, to have a family dinner of sorts, for her looking out for you. really, you could all do without this, but you don't mind a little extra time with her hand on your thigh.

it's pure adoration in the way that your eyes focus on her lips as she speaks, your face heating up at her raspy chuckles and confident voice. she's ditched the uniform for a crewneck sweater and some jeans, something comfortable after sitting in a suit all day, hair in the same tousled bun she started her day in.

beneath the table, ellie calms your restless leg with her hand, stroking along the goosebumps on your inner thigh. mindlessly you bend to her will, leg inching closer in her direction. only you're very aware of the boring conversation around you, your parents in the seats in front of you. and hell, ellie's probably not even trying to do this to you right now; it's not her fault you love everything she does.

"you okay, bug?" ellie's voice drags you out of thought, her head tilted towards you. her eyes are so gentle, her hand stilling in your lap. "very quiet tonight."

an excuse springs to mind, knowing the truth isn't viable in front of your parents. "oh, i'm just thinking about... some assignment... that's due in the next few days. sorry."

"you're fine," ellie reassures, giving you the kind of soft smile that makes your heart stop. you focus on that, rather than your father, who's crossing his arms. "that's important."

your mother furrows her brows, looking up. "is it stressing you out, sweetie?"

"it's fine, no, really," you stammer. "i'll get it done tonight, probably. it's not that hard."

"tch, payin' thirty-thousand dollars for you to read some books..." your father mutters, shaking his head. "what a waste."

ellie leans forward against the table, her brows furrowed softly. "she's good at her own thing. let her be. your daughter's smart, that's more than a lot of other people could say."

you almost flinch, not because of your father's slight against you, but because of the instinct ellie has to protect you. she has this innate readiness to risk a friendship just so she can ensure that what you hear about yourself isn't negative all the time. it's sweet, selfless, and unabashed.

and she continues: "i'd say you’re getting your money's worth from that education. she gets everything done on time. she's storing a lot of information in that brain, you know."

"i'm sure," your dad mutters. but really, he doesn't know; maybe if he spoke to you more often, he would see you for the intelligent and kind girl that you are. "i think i'm gonna head up to bed now. been a long day and i've got an early start tomorrow."

you observe a brief flash of annoyance in ellie's eyes. it's something like the defiance you used to feel when you were younger, which has been muted and dulled overtime as you accepted who your father is. she hides the frustration, instead nodding. "mm. i should get home soon."

"what time are you comin' tomorrow, then?" your mother asks her, standing to gather empty plates. your father pushes out of his own seat, too, and ellie retracts her hand from your thigh quickly.

"around the afternoon, maybe," ellie replies, looking up at your parents.

"we won't be seeing you then, we're headed out early," your dad says. quietly, you watch him outstretch a hand to ellie, who casually shakes it. he pats her shoulder. "i'll catch you later."

"take it easy," ellie says with a nod. her gaze falls on you then, sitting with your jaw clenched and wide, meek eyes.

"goodnight, sweetheart," your dad murmurs, rubbing your back. the contact is not unfamiliar, but it feels strange. it always does. it's like letting a distant relative hug you, rather than your own father.

with your mother, it's different. she gives both you and ellie a hug and a kiss on the cheek. but as soon as she has rushed up the stairs to finish packing a few things in her suitcase, you feel ellie's eyes burning you.

"you want to talk about it?"

"no," you whisper, gaze flicking from the floor to her face. you give a tired shrug of your shoulders to appear less bothered. "i just need tomorrow to come as quick as possible."

ellie snorts, checking the staircase behind her before slowly moving towards you. "then you're gonna have to get a good sleep for once, huh? no texting me at three in the morning."

she takes your wrist and starts to guide you. you follow blindly, no protest or question. "that's only when you're working, come on. timezones."

ellie shuts the bathroom door behind you, flicking the lock. "that's not an excuse, darlin'. you know i'm fine, you don't need to worry yourself about whether or not i landed. i always do."

you nod your head to the side, giving her a cheeky grin. "you love it when i worry about you."

"i love the fact that you care, not that you deprive yourself of basic human needs over it," ellie deadpans, hand sliding up your arm and to the back of your neck. she's closer now, your noses a hairsbreadth apart. "do you think you can get that assignment done tonight and also get a healthy amount of sleep?"

you nod, staring at the quirked corner of her lips. all you can think is that she better not leave you waiting until tomorrow for a kiss. "i want to, anyway, because i want the whole weekend about.. us... not my studying."

ellie nods back. "yeah, that's right... but you're not getting sidetracked 'cause of me, are you? you're a smart girl. i want you to do what you love. promise me you'll get it done?"

"i promise." your voice is soft, just above a whisper, and your throat dry suddenly. the flash of pride in her eyes gives you a rush, a hitch in your heartbeat and slight tremor in your hands.

"good girl." ellie smiles fondly, and this time she knows what she's doing when she flusters you. her free hand cups your cheek, thumb rubbing over your lower lip. "pretty."

"oh, kiss me already," you whine, full pout and puppy eyes unlocked. "ellie..."

she chuckles at that, pulling you closer to press a small, chaste kiss against your lips. "alright, baby. you've been waiting all day for that, haven't you?"

"for that? no." your pout only grows bigger, and she dodges you when you try to go for another kiss. "been waiting for all of you. come on..."

"manners," she chastises, eyes trailing down to where your thighs rub together. she almost growls, pushing you back against the counter. "are you wet?"

you're silent this time, lip drawn between your teeth and no resistance at all as she flips your dress up and slides her hand past the waistband of your panties. the damp lace stretches around her hand, fingers sliding through your folds. you suck in a breath, ellie mutters a curse.

"you... you are... so cute," ellie says. she slides her hand out from your panties, your slick oozing between her fingers like honey. she swipes her tongue across her lips, brows raised. "fuck. it really doesn't take much to get you worked up."

"shut up." you tremble, yearning for her hand to return to its home between your thighs. but ellie just leans over and runs it under the tap behind you, killing the hope you had. she makes up for it though, pressing her lips to yours firmly.

"baby, if you can be a good girl and focus on that assignment tonight, i will make this weekend the best ever for you, okay?"

you nod. the promise of a reward rings in your ears. it puts you in a sort of trance, one that stops you from even mithering about the way she's leaving you right now.

"that's my baby girl." ellie smirks, kissing your cheek. "be good for me."

afternoon sun blaring through the windows of your finally silent home, your body resting atop your bed in piles of blankets and stuffies.

your phone buzzes.

ellie: on my way ❤️

finally. it's felt like eternity waiting for this text.

everything's proceeded as planned. you worked diligently on finishing your paper and submitted it before the clock ticked over to midnight. you dreamt of her. you woke early to wish your parents well before they left, and since then, you've waited.

you've thought about what kind of fun the weekend will bring, especially now ellie's framed it like a reward for keeping up with your studies. you've anticipated privacy at last, where her lips can seek yours and she will hold you like only she can.

this wait for midday has been the most gruelling of your life.

with your lover inbound, you drag yourself off the bed for a last minute tidy. you potter around, remaking the bed and correcting any pieces out of place in your bedroom. it doesn't matter, but you want to make the effort anyway.

before long, the door's opening, and in comes ellie, carrying an overnight bag. you run downstairs two steps at a time, right into her open arms as always. despite the tight grip snaking around your waist, it feels like pure freedom.

"hey, babe," she whispers, kissing you gently. she pulls back, glancing around the place with a sly grin. "it's quiet in here, huh? won't be for long."

"oh— oh. well, okay," you say, giggling. no time wasted in getting filthy, that's how ellie operates.

"only if you finished your assignment, though," ellie adds. "you finished that, yeah? because if you didn't, you'll be doing that first."

"yeah, yeah, i did it," you grumble, fingers pinching her sleeve in an attempt at dragging her to the stairs. "come on."

"good. good girl, i'm proud of you." she follows you, of course still lighting up your eyes with sweet praises. "you are going to be the best journalist, you know?"

you duck into your room, closing and locking the door by force of habit. there's nobody here to catch you, but your relationship is so sacred to you that you feel the need to take drastic measures in protecting it.

ellie sits on the bed's edge, and leans down to untie her boots. you watch, head tilted. she notices, glances up and snorts. "what's up?"

"well..?" you vaguely gesture to her, then the bed, then yourself. "what's.. my reward? i did what you asked."

ellie stifles a laugh. "reward? oh, baby. we'll get to that, yeah? we have all weekend."

"but..."

all you ever do is pout. ellie chuckles, seeming to soften at the pitiful look on your face. she sits back against your pillows, patting her thigh. "c'mere. is it so wrong for me to want to hold you?"

"no," you mumble, already crawling into the open space between her legs, head resting on her shoulder. her arms wrap around you and her lips press to your temple.

"that's better," ellie says, sighing contently. "i always miss this the most when i'm away."

you warm, squeezing ellie's waist. "yeah, i... i miss it too, a lot. i feel so safe like this."

"yeah? well good. that's good." she grins, rubbing your back. "you are safe like this. and you get to soak it all up over the next few days."

"yeah..." you hesitate over the next words on the tip of your tongue. "do you think there will be a time where we can be like this more often?"

ellie doesn't seem to hesitate like you do when she replies. "yeah. i want there to be. i like to think i'm gonna keep you safe for the rest of my life."

it's hard to suppress the smile that arises from that. it won't ever be easy for you to reach the place you're discussing. the conversation is too candid, but you're happy to ignore that. "imagine coming back to me of all people after a flight."

"is that supposed to be a bad thing?" ellie murmurs. you can hear the amusement in her tone. "i can't think of anything better."

"hm... i guess not. i would take care of you," you say. "i can make sure you rest. unpack for you while you go to bed... i'll have food on the table if you're hungry. i don't think you'd be all grumpy like my dad is when he gets back, so i'd be happy to."

"oh yeah? you just wait 'till you see me after a red-eye flight, darlin'. i'm pure zombie." she chuckles, starting to squeeze you tighter than ever. "you won't be able to do any of that, i'll be like the cuddle monster. just like this..."

"stop!" you laugh, pushing against her vice grip. "ellie—"

"if you can't accept the cuddle monster then i'll have to rethink these future plans, babe," ellie jokes, loosening her grip, although her hands continue to roam now, unlike before. "all i'm gonna want is to get to bed and snuggle my pretty girl."

a noise elicits from the back of your throat when you feel her cup your ass, taking a gentle squeeze below your skirt. "snuggling? or something else?"

"snuggling, babe," ellie confirms in a low voice. "why?"

"i just— you're—" you stammer, curling your body closer to ellie's the more that her hands begin to feel and grope at your skin. your stomach flips when she gets bolder and squeezes your breast. "els..."

"what's wrong? feels too nice when i touch you like that?"

"mm..."

you start to squirm. ellie plants one hand on your hip to keep you in place, and the other continues to run over every inch of smooth skin she can find. you jump when she noses into your neck, quiet breaths fanning over your collarbone, kisses trailing up towards your jawline.

"you want your reward now, baby?" she whispers.

you nod, turning your head at an awkward angle just to try and kiss her. she hums into it, tongue pressing between your lips. as you move a hand backwards to mess her hair, ellie groans, pushing her hips into your ass.

your every little moan is swallowed up by ellie, overpowered by her own sounds. your fingers tighten around a strand of her hair and she snaps into action, pushing you off her lap and back onto the bed. she cups the back of your head with her hand and lays you on your back, hovering over you.

"c'mere, that's it," she grunts, pushing her hand into your panties and wasting no time in sliding two long fingers into your leaking pussy. she shushes your gasp of pleasure, catching your lips with hers again.

ellie's fingers curl deeper, probing at the silky walls inside you. her thumb finds your clit, circling the puffy nub. every movement is slow and precise, despite how quickly you found yourself in this position. all you can do is keep bucking your hips in the hope that it will relieve some tension.

"oh, you're fuckin' wet, huh?" ellie says, letting out a raspy and strained chuckle. she looks at you, almost astonished, cooing, "look at you whining for me..."

"ellie... ah, it feels so good." you look up, meeting the loving look in her eyes. it's like she's looking at something so precious, sweet, and endearing, the way she watches you right now.

"yeah, i know it does," she replies, smiling down at you. "i can see it."

"'m gonna come," you gasp. "trying not to."

"why?" ellie asks with a scoff. "come, baby girl. it's okay."

"it's t-too soon," you stutter, speaking between hitched breaths and choked moans. you tense every muscle, trying desperately to hold back, even avoiding looking into ellie's affectionate gaze. "i always do this."

"no, it's alright baby." ellie laughs. almost determined now, she tries things she knows you can't resist. she thrusts her fingers even deeper, fighting against the way your cunt squeezes them. "come."

"fuck." you squeak, trying to close your legs—ellie shoves them away with her spare hand and grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to make eye contact. this time you can't hold back, pleasure overtaking your body in waves of trembling shock.

"good girl, there you go," she coaxes, feeling you leak around her fingers. when it's over, and she pulls her hand back out of your panties, she admires the white ring around her knuckles. you watch her lick them clean, hear her hum at the taste. "i want more."

"oh—" your legs start to close and once again, ellie parts them. now she's tearing at your clothes, unzipping your skirt and tossing it to the floor, tugging your panties down without a second glance at the style you'd carefully chosen this morning.

she holds your thighs apart and all but dives in, tongue prodding against your sensitive hole. it's almost completely selfish, how first she laves over your folds, licking up your slick. she works up to your neglected clit, making you mewl. she's focusing too much on the overstimulated area now, sucking and kissing, ignoring your whiny pleas for something more.

your hands grip at the bedding beneath you, head thrown back as ellie purses her lips around your clit. she looks up at you through her lashes, hard eyes focusing on your expression; crumpled up and with quivering lips, body squirming around.

she takes pity, sort of, and decides to give you something more.

three fingers slide into your cunt. you cry out, hands rising to cover your face like protection. "ellie!"

"you can take it darlin', you're a good girl. i know you got this." that's the only consolation ellie offers before she resumes, tongue washing over your pussy carelessly and fingers stretching you open.

you're panting between every moan, gasping for air, as the feeling of burning oversensitivity fades into pleasure once more. it builds up again, that familiar tension in your stomach growing until there's nothing you can do; your body jolts, your vision whites, and now ellie's lapping up every last bit of your release.

"oh, god," you whisper, watching as ellie finally sits up. she mindlessly wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her button up, giving you a wicked grin.

"hungry, baby? we should get somethin' to eat."

"what... are you fucking joking?" you ask, furrowing your brows.

"no." ellie caresses your face, leans in and gives you a soft kiss. "i'll order something in, okay? we'll get some rest and have some dinner."

you barely respond, only sighing and sitting up. "there's no way you're hungry after all you just did," you mutter.

"shush." she snorts, tossing her phone to you. "can you follow some instructions for me?"

your eyes flit between the phone and ellie, and you nod. "yeah."

"i'm gonna wash my hands and get something to clean you up with. choose whatever you feel like. i'll come back and finish ordering."

"okay."

"good girl."

some time later, cleaner and warmer with your face tucked into ellie's chest and takeout settling in your stomach, you think you're finished. she holds you intimately, peppers kisses into your hairline every so often, whispers praises.

you have no idea what else is really coming.

"you've been doing so good for me today," ellie murmurs. she keeps her voice low, all of her touches on your body very light now. "i knew you would. you know you're always really good for me, don't you?"

"i try to be," you reply, warmth blooming in your chest, her praise filling you with pride. it was never often that you received acknowledgement for something you put your efforts into until ellie first walked through the door a year ago.

"yeah..." ellie smiles down at you, squeezing your shoulder. she presses a kiss on top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. "i know. and good girls deserve to be taken care of. they deserve to be kissed and touched... and fucked. they deserve whatever it takes to stop all that overthinking."

"ah.." you swallow thickly, feeling ellie's hand slide further between your thighs. it has its desired effect, the distracting touch and the powerful words making your head feel a little foggier. even the way that you willingly open your body up to her this time shows it.

"i told you i was gonna make this weekend the best ever," ellie says. "i just wanna treat my clever girl now. you want that?"

"yes." you lean closer, holding onto ellie's arm as she gently rubs your clit. it's as though she's just warming you up, trying to get you desperate again, and if that's the case, it won't take much for ellie to get what she desires.

"easy, girl," ellie whispers against your ear. you can hear smugness in her voice, but it's mildly thrown off by you writhing back against her. she stifles a moan, beginning to rock herself up into you. "you wanna be filled again?"

"yes, please, god..." you whine, "need your fingers again."

"not this time, baby girl," she murmurs. "that just isn't enough this time, don't you think? i brought somethin' else for you."

"fuck," you mutter, squeezing ellie's wrist as your brain catches up, the implication of her words hitting you. "your strap?"

"yeah." ellie starts to move you already, sitting you down on the bed. "you want my cock?"

"mmh, yeah." it sounds great to you. you look up, big eyes admiring ellie while she stands, searching for the harness in her bag. "please," you add.

"of course, darlin'." ellie glances up with a reassuring smile. "this is exactly what i mean when i say that you are such a good girl. you deserve this so much."

that praise just goes straight to your head. you're certainly a little more sensitive than you remember being earlier now. softer, lighter, easier.

she undresses and pulls the harness up quickly, practised and comfortable. your eyes fall to the heavy silicone hanging from her hips, and you bite your lip, fighting the urge to tuck your own hand between your legs and ease the throbbing arousal that's waiting for her.

"hands and knees, sweet girl."

you move immediately, waiting in position. ellie stands behind you for a moment, admiring your shiny, wet pussy, before finally she climbs back onto the bed and grabs you by the hips.

"take a deep breath, baby."

you do. it's interrupted with a satisfied moan as ellie pushes in behind you, and she lets out a deep sigh of her own. it's almost like she's finally found peace, she's at home in you, right where she belongs.

it's one long, slow thrust. the toy's not huge, but it's decently sized, still thicker than her fingers and reaching far enough for the tip to kiss your cervix.

no rest. ellie holds your waist tight enough to bruise, drags her hips back, and then roughly drives forward again. the goal is to fuck you stupid, and she's certainly on track with the brutal pace she sets.

you shriek her name with every hard thrust, she pulls your hips back to meet her hips every time, inching deeper and deeper. skin slaps against skin, two sets of moans fill the room, and your arms feel like giving out any second.

"ah, you take me so fucking well, baby," ellie groans. "good girl."

you've strayed from cries of her name to incoherent sounds, even trying to muffle yourself so that you can hear ellie as clearly as possible—that praise only drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

"you're getting close baby, i can tell," ellie rasps, "so am i. you gonna come, babe? show me how much you love my cock."

"mm," you moan, starting to feel your brain turn fuzzier with every passing moment. the strap brushes over your softest spots with precision, blurring your filter, and you can't control your own voice anymore. "daddy, daddy, love it s-so much, 'm so close."

"d— fuckkk, you do, yeah?" ellie lets out a breathy laugh, but her stomach tightens at your weak voice and the title you bestow upon her. "come for daddy."

less than a second later, you fall onto the bed, face stuffed into pillows and sobbing her new title like it's a hymn.

and ellie can't control herself either, now burying all the way in so that the base of the strap nudges against your ass. she comes, collapsing on top of you and rutting as close as she can against you, panting heavy into your ear.

she takes a second to recuperate, then clears her throat and pushes herself up again. "hey, baby. you okay?"

"mmhm." you nod.

ellie nods, giving you a gentle pat on the back. "i'm gonna go get you some water."

"noo, no, don't go, daddy. stay." ellie's every move just about shocks your overstimulated body. and, almost as if the strap is real, it makes you feel so much closer than you ever have been to ellie. "i want you."

you hear a whispered curse from behind, and ellie is struggling not to smile. this? this is too cute.

she'd be evil if she didn't obey.

"alright, i'm here. shh."

ellie does still manoeuvre you so that you're lying on your side. she wraps around you from behind, cheek smushed against your shoulder and hands splayed across your tummy.

laboured breath turns to light huffs, a tender break to calm down—or try to—because you seem to be insatiable today. ellie's doing her best, quietly talking you down from the intensity of it all. you don't seem to want this to end just yet, and ellie's more than okay with that.

she spends some time rubbing gentle circles around your clit. nothing more, nothing less. it's perfect for a while, and you let out tiny whimpers into the pillow under your head.

but then, with such subtlety and slowness that ellie barely notices at first, you start to writhe, fucking yourself back onto her cock.

"fucking hell." ellie sighs.

her hand sinks into the underside of your thigh, hooking it back and over her waist—the change in angle is everything, and it gets you cooing for her again.

"daddyyy," you whimper, drawing out each syllable. your whole bed creaks and rocks against the wall with the way ellie thrusts up into you, each stroke hard and fast and hitting your cervix. she keeps her arms wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you in place.

"shh, shh, i got you," she says in a wavering voice, "daddy's got you, baby girl."

you let your eyes slip shut, back arching. "s-so close."

"i know, i know, uh, fuck, same." ellie sounds truly almost as wrecked as you now, tired and shaky and full of bliss the more that she ruts into you.

neither of you last much longer. ellie's chasing a high, movements all becoming rough and miscalculated, but what really gets you is the guttural moan she lets out before her efforts give in. she's all but whimpering into your neck, squishing your body in her arms like a snake would its prey.

it has you shivering, coming with a silent scream.

it's like the world's stopped spinning as you come down from the peak, slowly opening your eyes and closing your legs to ease your core—it's beating like a second heartbeat.

"alright baby girl, hey, you with me?"

"yeah," you answer.

"good girl," she says. ellie rubs up and down your side, and finally pulls out. you let her this time. "you need some water now, babe? or just sleepy?"

"oh, um... i don't know," you say shyly. you hear the unbuckling of the harness, and feel the bed dipping below ellie's weight as she sits up.

"that's okay darlin'," ellie coos. "here, just drink a bit of water for me and we'll go to bed. it'll help you reset your breathing a bit."

she fetches you her water bottle from her bag, handing it to you and watching closely while you sip away at it. once you're done, she takes a drink herself, and then untucks your bed.

"c'mon. in."

without a word, you roll into bed properly, and ellie slides in beside you. her lips find your forehead and she lets you snuggle up into her chest, where you close your eyes and focus on the safety.

"goodnight baby. daddy loves you."

your breath fades into an even pace before she finishes her sentence. she knew you were spent, but not that much—she snorts almost silently, looking down at you with nothing but pride. you took it so well, just like she knew you would. you wanted more than she thought, even.

tomorrow, she's testing the limits all over again.

𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆'𝒔   𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆   . . .   ౨ৎ  hi hi hi, blowin u a kiss for readin all that filth ! this is one of my fav aus that i've created. i luv pilot!ellie sosososo much, i Need her with a capital N. she is so fine !!! hopefully this makes up for me not writin as much as i wanted to for kinktober :( p.s. i know u came for the smut so sorrie i projected my irl daddy issues into this a lil 2 hard in the beginning. unfortunately daddy issues are just gonna have to be a common theme in m fics from now on bcz that was therapeutic n i've been holding back a lot for a while . . . oops ! ! love you though readers ♡

And now, you were given a golden opportunity to spend more time with her. You were planning on having a chill and uneventful night during your break, you were texing Ellie when she had told you about how she was grounded in the city because of the weather and couldn't fly home to see her father before Christmas as planned. You could detect the loneliness in her tone even though text, so on a whim you had invited her to come up to your sorority house to spend the night together.

While a part of you felt bummed that she wouldn't get to spend Christmas with her dad like you could tell she wanted, a bigger part of you was ecstatic. Pretty much all of your sorority sisters had left the house to go spend their winter breaks back at their sprawling multi-acre homes or at scattered snowy resorts in Aspen or the Swiss Alps, leaving you all alone save for only two freshmen girls and your house mother who frequently left once it got dark.

Which left you plenty of time to get up to... solitary activities. Well, solitary until Ellie came over to join you.

In the few times you've slept together in your bedroom, Ellie always made the time to get a few minutes to admire your personal space, messing with the trinkets that littered your shelves and walls. Tracing a finger along your PinkPantheress poster, twiddling with your miniature Bratz charms, commenting on how cute she found your little family of calico critters. You wouldn't admit it yet, still unsure of exactly what this was besides two people hooking up and becoming friendlier after each passionate tryst, but you liked how interested she was in the small things that made you who you were.

You didn’t like it when her curiosity led her to the box carefully hidden under your bed. To be fair she wasn't really looking for it, ending her short few minutes of exploration before the both got up to your usual activities and starting her usual trek to your bed. She had dropped her hands to lift up her sweatshirt, your eyes eager to catch that first glimpse of her freckled skin that led to her boxers when you both stilled at the sound of a thump, the sound coming from beneath your bed.

Ellie looked down, confused about why her foot had just banged into a box covered by spare blankets beneath your bed when it was unlike you to leave anything so unorganized in your room.

"What's in the box?"

"Nothing." Damn, you answered too quickly. You could tell by the quirk in her lip at your nervousness.

"Really? You, Mrs. Perfect Sorority Princess, have an empty box just sitting beneath your bed? I don't believe it. You hate mess."

"It's not a mess, it's just one box, Ellie!" You whine, feeble in your attempt to grab at her arm to try and stop her from looking inside.

"C'mon, I'm sure it can't be that bad-"

Well, it wasn't bad, per se. Ellie knew that you were, in more inappropriate terms, a little freak. She had a hunch ever since the first time you both slept together that you were hiding more under the surface when it came to your desires, and you made those desires abundantly clear with each ensuing hookup. Asking her to be rougher, to be a little more dominant, to be a little more submissive; if you asked for it, she gave it to you. Maybe it said something about her that she often caught herself waiting by the phone in anticipation for you to send her a text begging for her to do whatever dirty thing you could conjure in that pretty little brain of yours, but over these past few weeks she was starting to care less and less about dignity when it came to you.

So it more than shocked her that you seemed so flushed at her finding your box of hidden sex toys. She would've guessed that you would be eager to show this to her the first time she slept over in your room, even more eager to use them on yourself with her. Or use them on her. Jeez, she has to remind herself to focus.

"Wow."

"Ellie..." You whine, hoping that the sound of her name in your mouth would distract her enough that you could snatch the box back from her hands. Yet as soon as you reach to take it from her she jerks it back, chuckling at your feeble attempt.

"C'mon, babe, let me see what we're working with here."

She carefully observed the contents of the box, gleefully ignoring your pleads and whines as she looks over your collection of paraphernalia- a bullet vibrator, a light pink rose toy, a dildo so thick it makes her brows raise, hell, you even have one of those scissoring vibrators she spotted on twitter late one lonely night.

"Babe, this is...wow."

You groaned, dramatically tossing back and burying your head into your fluffy pillows to try and avoid humiliation. You don't look back up until you feel the familar texture of Ellie's rough hand glide up the skin on the back of your exposed thighs, the red-head sighing when you still insist on ignoring her and using her hands to flip you over by the hips until you're looking at her. Jeez, you almost forgot how strong Ellie could be when she wanted. Seriously, you needed to focus.

"Why are you so embarrassed, huh? Not like I'm surprised you have sex, think im one of the few people who know how much that you do-"

"Ugh, Els-"

"I'm serious!" She insists, pushing back a stray curl that escaped from your hair wrap. Like usual the gentle contact only adds to your nervousness, mixing with the doubt and worry about the real reason of why you were so nervous to let Ellie see your collection of toys.

Because really, Ellie was right. After your first amazing night spent together you were more than eager to show her every sexual fantasy you could come up with in your head, including some of your more indulgent dreams about Ellie watching you use your vibe on yourself while begging and pleading for just the chance to touch you, or even sharing it between the two of you while you writhed in overstimulation together.

But then, like the universe could see how badly you wanted something, it decided to immediately put doubt into your head. A random article about distaste in sex toys between couples before overhearing some of your sorority sisters whisper about how their boyfriends were turned off by the thought of their girlfriends using sex toys, insisting that their pleasure should be in 'their own hands' was enough to sow the doubt growing inside of you.

And yes, while Ellie wasn't your boyfriend, let alone someone as suspect as a traditionally masculine frat guy, she was still a sexual partner that you liked, and had made no mention of wanting to bring toys into the bedroom so far. Your mind quickly came up with multiple scenarios of Ellie dismissing your suggestion, or even worse, calling you weird and leaving you behind with only your vibrators for comfort. And yes, while those vibrators did their job incredibly well, you weren't too proud to admit that Ellie's fingers alone did a far better job than any of your toys could.

"I just... I didn't want you to...Ugh!" You groan, plopping back into your pillow and settling for covering your face with your hands to hide yourself. You sounded so silly, you thought. Now your inability to communicate a simple worry will be what drives her away instead of the toys. Who wants to have a situationshio with someone who has a tantrum every time they have a problem?

But you should've known Ellie was smarter than that. She can quickly tell that whatever your reason is for not telling her about the toys is genuinely distressing you, and she drops her teasing facade and switches into caring mode, gently rubbing her hands over your exposed thighs, trying her best not to get distracted by the smell of your sweet vanilla lotion.

"Hey, c'mon, you know you can talk to me about it, right? I'm not gonna like, make fun of you or anything."

You let your eye peek through the gap of your fingers, watching her and finding the obvious sincerity in her eyes, drifting down to her firm and lithe fingers etching invisible markings into your skin. It makes you nervous instead of embarrassed at how easy this feels with her, how you already believe her with just one sentence and want to tell her everything going on inside her head.

She notices the anxious look on your face and reaches up gently to take your hands off of your face, already able to hear how you'll complain about ruining your nightly skincare routine in the morning. Ever so gently she nudges your head up with her finger, smiling to herself once she sees your expression turn bashful at her closeness.

“You can tell me if I made you uncomfortable, y'know? I don't want to push you to do something you don't want to do.”

You feel a warmth flush throughout your body at her gentle assurance, a feeling you've grown accustomed to since you started sleeping together. It still made you dizzy just how sweet she could be to you, how her dominance and teasing could quickly turn into nurturing and patience. You wouldn't dare listen to that part of your subconscious that wanted more of it, wanted more of her.

“I'm just… I heard that some people don't like that stuff, and I got embarrassed…” You whisper, slightly cringing at how dumb the words sound once they leave your mouth. God, this was so unlike you. Embarrassed and insecure at what a girl you hadn't even known a month would think about your collection of vibrators.

Her expression is blank for the longest ten seconds of your life, your stomach dropping with every passing moment until she bends over your lap in laughter, genuinely having a fit as you hurry to try and shush her so she doesn't give away her presence in the house. You push her back and sit on her lap while one of your hands covers her mouth, her giggles still wracking her body and the vibrations traveling into yours.

“It wasn't that funny, I'm sure.”

“’M sorry, I'm sorry it's just -” She gasps under your palm, hand coming up to weakly pull at your wrist so she can speak. Once her laughs have died down you relent, taking a second to gaze at her flushed and freckled face before she explains.

“Who exactly did you hear from that most lesbians don't like vibrators?”

“Well, it wasnt from other lesbians, per se…”

She follows your gaze as your eyes drift over to the door, and it takes every last bit of strength she has to quell thr laughter building up again.

“Please don't tel me you took advice from the Princesses of Pilates.”

“Not just them! I saw an article online about-”

Your explanation is cut off when Ellie rises up on her hands to kiss you, the words dying out in your throat as you let yourself sink into the gentle press of her lips on yours. Your arms raise to wrap around her shoulders, a soft groan leaving both of you at the feel of your chests pressing into each others.

All too soon she's pulling away, a gentle trail of spit still connecting you to each other as you both watch it with lustful eyes. Her lips quirk up at the sight before ducking down to press a series of quick kisses to your lips until you're stuck giggling in her mouth.

“You can be so silly sometimes, y'know?”

You scrunch your eyebrows and squint at her before she leans down to kiss your cheeks, before moving down to your neck, your lashes fluttering at the feeling of her teeth gently nipping at your skin.

“Are you… Are you making fun of me or trying to sleep with me?”

“Don't see why I can't do both.” She laughs.

You let out a mix between a groan and a whimper as she continues her ministrations across your neck, forgoing her usual care not to leave any marks now that you can cover them up with a scarf and not be side-eyed. Her rough hands come up to palm at your chest over your frilly pajama top, cheering internally at finally getting to feel your boobs after nonchalantly looking at the imprints of your nipples through the shirt. She suddenly pinches one, eyes looking up at you as you whine at the painful sensation.

“Now, be a good girl and pick which toy you want me to use first.”

“Don't know why you were so nervous, angel,” She mumbles, her green eyes intense as she looks down at your bare body writhing beneath her touch. “Still think I'm like those douchey frat guys your sisters see?”

You whined, one of your legs jutting out and your back bending into an arch as the overwhelming pleasure grows in intensity. Your manicured fingers dig into the freckled skin of her thighs as she moves the buzzing pink vibrator higher so the vibrations are right on your clit, the stimulation making your eyes cross and letting out a high-pitched gasp that makes Ellie bite her lip to stop her own pathetic sounds from coming out.

Her lips kiss and bite at the skin of your covered shoulder, always eager to show you affection while she watches you fall apart beneath her. Her free hand trails over the soft fabric of your pajama top before reaching up and pinching your nippleq, a slight chuckle leaving her lips when she feels you arch into her hand and beg under your breath for more.

“How many times have you used this thing, huh?” She whispers, the heat of her breath tickling your ear while the vibrator continues to buzz away on your cunt, “Can see it in my head now, you biting your hand while you fuck yourself stupid on your pretty little sheets.”

“Ellie, fuck, more, need more-”

“Yeah? You want it higher? Think you can keep quiet?” She asks, smiling when you nod your head before she can even finish the question. Never the one to deny your begs, she presses the button on the device to turn the vibrations up even higher then before, immediately able to see the difference when your body starts to writhe from the overwhelming stimulation and a series of whiny moans leave your parted lips, her hand quickly coming up to your mouth to muffle them, lest the last few of your sisters still in the house hear you and come to investigate the problem.

She mourns the sound of your moans for a few seconds, letting herself briefly dream of a day when she can indulge in your body and hear every pleasured sound that leaves those pretty lips of yours. For a second, she even wishes that your sorority would find out about your… ‘relationship’, and leave you two to your own devices, giving her the freedom to sneak into your window and make you scream as often as she pleased without the fear of being thrown out and spritzed in the face with expensive perfumes.

But for now, she’ll enjoy seeing you like this - the tiny beads of sweat dripping down your panting cleavage, your legs shaking and struggling not to close, and every so often she gets the slightest glimpse of your trembling cunt beneath, able to see your slick covering the toy when it hits the light at just the right angle.

She feels her own cunt clench down as you fall apart in her arms, your body thrashing as your orgasm wrecks you completely. Indulgently she leaves the toy on you for an extra few seconds, taking pride in the way your hips twitch away from the stimulation and your hands claw at her wrist. Eventually, she relents, tossing the toy to the side to be cleaned later, before she guides your body to fall back into hers, gently adjusting your askew bonnet as you recollect yourself.

“Thank you, fuck, I needed that.” You laugh, breathless and smiling, when you look up at her over your shoulder.

Ellie smiles in return, placing a gentle kiss on your lips that you melt into. For just a few seconds, you let yourself be consumed by the overwhelming presence of just her, how it feels to be in her arms, and to have your lips on yours. You almost wish you could both stay like this forever, uncaring about the thoughts of your sorority sisters and the other students who would probably side-eye your relationship and are only worried about when you could be in her arms again.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Ellie's lithe fingers travel under your top to palm at your breasts, a hoarse moan passing through your lips as her rough fingers pinch at the sensitive peak of your nipples, her own mouth grazing over your neck and teasingly biting at the skin.

“You ‘needed’ that, huh? Bet you've been so pent up waiting for me with only your toys to get you off, yeah?” She whispers, eyes lidded while she feels nearly drunk off the pleasure of pleasing you. It only stokes that fire inside you when she gets like this, so dominant and sure of her control over you once she's dragged an orgasm out of you.

You dazedly nod at her question, eager to please and even more eager to have another orgasm. She quietly laughs at your reaction, her hand drifting back over to your toy box, previously tossed haphazardly to the side, and pulling out one of the objects that first caught her attention earlier in the night.

Your dildo - translucent pink, girthy, and a solid 7 inches that feels heavy in Ellie's hand. She holds it in her grip for a moment, gazing at the object as her brain conjures up the vision of all the past times you must have used this on yourself; how the folds of your cunt would open up to accept the pink intrusion, the push and pull of the cock showing up under the brown skin of your stomach, how your slick would drip down to the base after you had worn yourself out. She could already tell she was going to be keeping these mental images close to her for a while.

“Ellie…” Your needy whine reminds her of where she is, your hand coming up to her wrist to bring her hand holding the dildo lower until it’s hovering just over your cunt, the mushroomed tip grazing your clit and causing you to bite your lip.

“You gonna take it all for me? Huh?” She asks, dragging the toy up and down over the lips of your cunt until you really start to beg and whine for it, looking up at her with teary big brown eyes that always make her promise to herself that she'll give you whatever you want, that she'll happily do whatever you beg her for because she truly doesn't think she wants to do anything else for the rest of her life.

In one swift moment, she plunges the cock inside of you, her other hand rushing to cover your mouth when you let out a deep and satisfied moan. Your head falls back onto her shoulder, your body pliant as she starts to thrust the toy in and out of your wet heat, nearly sighing in relief when she hears the familiar sounds of your pussy stretching around the dildo.

Your muffled cries only encourage her to go faster, her wrist starting to strain with the rapid movements of her hand still tightly gripping the base of the toy while she fucks you like a woman on a mission. Her hand held over your mouth adjusts so she can stick two of her fingers inside your mouth, her own clit twitching when you bite down on her knuckles to mute yourself further.

“Els, fuck, Ellie-”

“You close?” She mumbles, able to tell what your muted moans around her fingers are trying to convey. She notices how your chest is heaving yet again, your legs struggling to stay open, before she uses her legs to lock yours apart. The increased access allows her to thrust the fake dick even deeper inside of you, bringing you even closer to the edge than you were before.

“That’s it, give it to me, baby, show me how pretty you look cumming around your pretty toy.”

And like her words commanded it you do, back arching and eyes rollingn into the back of your head as you twitch and gush around the dildo just like she wanted, her green eyes widening in delight when she sees your cum steadily coat the pink toy until it forms a milky white sheen over the plastic. She keeps thrusting it inside of you until your hand wraps around her wrist, too tired from overstimulation to bring her to a complete halt.

“Yeah? Sure you dont want another?” She teases, giving a few extra rough thrusts that make you yelp in surprise, your hand coming up to slap over your mouth. She bites her lip to stop her own laugh from escaping, carefully pulling the soaked cock from your folds, looking over the wet sheen and debating her next choice.

It was her turn to be nervous, now, as she subtly bring the tip of the dildo closer to your face; it was a frequent fantasy of hers when she strapped you for you to wrap your pretty glossed lips around the head of her dick, your big eyes looking up at her as you choked around the object, eager to please her before she did the same for you. But she knew some girls didn't enjoy going that far, so she had hesitated to ask you to do it.

But without even thinking about it you part your lips, pink tongue rolling out so the tip can rest on the wet muscle. She's sure there must be stars in her eyes as she starts to fuck your mouth with the toy, her free hand gripping your thigh to try and calm herself down. Once she's decided you've hadenpugh she stops, pulling the dildo out of your mouth and tossing it into the toy box before yanking your head around to press her lips onto yours, her own tongue bullying into your mouth to lick up any last remnants of your cum she can find.

She kisses you like that for a while, sucking on your tongue until you feel dizzy off of the feel of her before she drags her lips down and away, deciding to kiss and suck at your neck to make a few more marks.

“Y’know, I've been thinking about this - ah, fuck - this…double ended…dildo…” Your voice trails off into an airy moan as she continues to bite at your skin.

And when Ellie pulls back to look at you, her green eyes twinkling and a smile stretching over her kiss bruised lips, you dont know why you were even nervous to begin with.

Travis Martinez had never been the easiest person to read. Even before the crash—before the smoke and metal and screaming, before the trees devoured the rest of their world—he was closed off in a way that didn’t always feel intentional. He wasn’t mean, not exactly. He just didn’t know how to be with people.

You weren’t sure when you started noticing him like that.

Maybe it was during practice, when you’d sneak glances across the field and catch him staring off into the distance, headphones clamped around his ears like armor. Maybe it was in the hallway, the way he always walked slightly behind Javi but never too far, like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be seen or disappear altogether. Maybe it was in the way he showed up to team events and parties but always lingered along the walls, half-present, like he was doing someone a favor by existing there.

You didn’t know why he talked to you more than anyone else.

It was never much—just fragments. A dry comment. A shared silence on the bus. Once, at a hotel after an away game, you sat beside him on a stairwell when neither of you could sleep, and he handed you one of his earbuds without saying a word. The song was some mellow, wordless synth loop—sad but soft. He didn’t look at you the whole time, but he didn’t move away either. That was the closest thing to intimacy he ever offered.

You held onto it. Maybe too tightly.

There was something about the way he moved through the world, like he didn’t expect it to be gentle with him. And still, he was trying. There was something so lonely and tender about that.

He never had to say anything. You just knew.

When the plane crashed, everything about Travis collapsed inward.

You saw it happen in real time.

The sound of his father’s body snapping from the trees haunts you—not as a memory, but as a feeling, one you saw reflected in the still, awful way Travis froze when he realized what had happened. The grief didn’t come loud or screaming. It came quietly. Paralyzing. You watched it climb inside him and make a home.

After that, he stopped meeting your eyes. Stopped lingering near you. Stopped doing anything that might be mistaken for feeling something.

The others wrote him off quickly. Called him cold, a dick, a downer. But you—you knew what was underneath all that. The hurt in him. The sharp kind of pain that swallows boys whole when no one ever taught them what to do with it.

Still, it didn’t make it easier.

He wouldn’t talk to you. Wouldn’t sit near you at the fire. Wouldn’t even pass the knife your way during skinning days. He talked to Natalie—her and no one else. And as much as that burned something small and ugly inside you, you couldn’t even be mad about it.

Because she didn’t ask him to be anything he couldn’t.

The forest didn’t ask much of him—just quiet, and discipline, and the occasional bloodletting.

Travis preferred it that way.

The further they got from camp, the more the noise in his head seemed to thin out, replaced by the damp rhythm of breath and frost and the low crunch of boots through leaf rot. He liked that Natalie didn’t talk much when they hunted. She understood how to move through silence without filling it. She didn’t force small talk or ask him what he was thinking.

She already knew most of it anyway.

He stayed a few paces behind her, one hand on the strap of his pack, the other swinging low at his side, fingers numb. The cold had a way of making you forget the edges of your own body. Most days, he didn’t mind. It was easier than remembering how he used to feel warm around you—how that warmth had slowly curled up inside him, cautious but real, and hadn’t left since.

Back before the crash, it had been a slow thing. The kind of quiet affection he didn’t have words for, so he didn’t try. But he felt it. In the way he found excuses to linger around you at practice. In the way he caught your voice in a crowded hallway and tuned out everyone else. In the way he almost said something once—just once—when you touched his arm and smiled like you trusted him more than he’d earned.

But the crash took that version of him and set it on fire.

Now, he didn’t talk to you. Barely looked at you. Not because he didn’t want to. Because wanting to felt dangerous. Like opening something that couldn’t be closed.

Natalie stopped ahead of him near a stripped birch tree. She crouched, fiddling with a snare they’d set the day before. It was empty. No surprise there. She reset it anyway, patient and practiced.

They hadn’t caught anything yet. Not that it mattered. The routine was the only thing keeping either of them sane.

Natalie didn’t look back when she spoke.

“You know you’re not subtle, right?”

Travis looked up, brow creasing.

“About her,” she added, glancing sidelong over her shoulder. “You think you’ve been hiding it, but you’re about as low-key as a red flare in a blackout.”

Travis didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t surprised she brought it up—he’d told her weeks ago, maybe on their third or fourth hunt together. Not in a dramatic, confessional way, just in passing, like it had slipped out between breaths. Like it hurt too much to hold in. She hadn’t said much then, just nodded and moved on.

He appreciated that. Natalie had a way of not pressing unless it mattered.

“I already told you,” he muttered, eyes back on the trail. “That doesn’t mean I know what to do about it.”

“You could start by not being a dick to her,” she said mildly.

“I’m not—” He cut himself off. Sighed. “I’m not trying to be.”

“You’re not trying to be anything,” she said, turning to face him fully now. “That’s kind of the issue.”

Travis looked past her, toward the edge of the tree line. He hated these moments. Not because he didn’t trust her—he did, more than almost anyone out here—but because talking about you made something vulnerable scrape against his ribs. And he didn’t know how to handle that. He never had.

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” he muttered.

“Being an asshole?”

He shot her a look.

Natalie held his gaze, unflinching. “You’re not one, not really. But you play the part so well it doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t mean to act like that toward her,” he said, quieter now. “Most days I don’t even know I’m doing it. Then she looks at me, and I… I just freeze up.”

“It’s not like I mean to ignore her,” he muttered. “I just… I don’t know. It’s easier this way.”

“Easier for you,” Natalie said, slinging her pack higher. “Not her.”

Natalie let the silence sit for a beat. Long enough for the wind to rustle low through the trees and for a crow to call somewhere in the distance.

Natalie started walking again. He followed.

“I’m not gonna lecture you,” she said eventually. “But don’t pull her close in your head just to push her away out here. That’s not fair. And you know it.”

Travis swallowed hard. The wind shifted between the trees. He didn’t say anything. He just kept walking, eyes fixed ahead, hoping the next trap would be full, or at least distract him from the weight in his chest.

But the worst part was—he knew she was right. He always knew.

Eventually, he muttered, “Why do you even care?”

Natalie glanced sideways at him, brow raised. “About what?”

“This,” he said, a little sharper than he meant to. “Me. Her. I didn’t think you paid much attention to that kind of shit.”

“I don’t,” she replied easily. “Not usually.”

They stopped near the ridge, close to another snare. Natalie crouched down again, brushing snow-dusted pine needles from the ground as she spoke.

“I mean, it’s not like she and I talk all the time or whatever. We barely interact unless it’s doing firewood or prepping game or someone needs help with water runs. But…” She paused, checking the trap. It was empty again. “She’s always been kind to me. Quiet, but kind. Never treated me like I was on the outside of things, even when some of the others did.”

Travis didn’t say anything.

“I’ve always counted her as a friend, even if it’s not loud or obvious,” she added. “She doesn’t deserve to be left wondering what she did wrong.”

He shifted uncomfortably, knuckles tightening around the edge of his coat sleeve.

“I never meant to make her feel like that.”

“Well, that’s the part that matters, isn’t it?” Natalie stood again, brushing her hands clean on her thighs. “You didn’t mean to, but you did. And she’s walking around thinking she pissed you off, or like she’s not worth your time. And you won’t even look at her most days.”

“I can’t,” Travis snapped, before he could stop himself. Then quieter, like the words cost him something, “I can’t—not without feeling like I’m gonna say something I can’t take back.”

Natalie gave him a long, steady look.

“Then maybe you should say something she can hold on to.”

That silenced him. He dropped his gaze to the dirt, biting down the thousand things he couldn’t name.

You weren’t like the others. You never made him feel stupid when he didn’t know what to say. You were gentle with your space, patient with your silences. You never asked for anything loud or dramatic—just effort. Just honesty. Just for him to not disappear.

And he had anyway.

Natalie didn’t push after that. She just turned and kept walking, rifle slung low at her side, her footfalls light and sure over the leaves.

But the words stayed with him. Echoed back with every breath he took through the cold.

She doesn’t deserve to be left wondering what she did wrong.

The sun had barely climbed its way into the afternoon sky by the time they made it back to camp. Pale light filtered through the thinning treetops, casting long shadows against the brittle dirt. The chill hadn’t broken, but the snow hadn’t started yet either—just cold in that dull, early-winter way that got under your clothes and stayed there, pressed into your skin like a bruise.

Travis spotted you first.

You and Javi were returning from the lake, each of you carrying a plastic bucket filled with fresh water. One in each hand. Javi’s sleeves were pushed up, the edges damp from where he’d spilled water on the walk back, and you were laughing at something he said—real, easy laughter that rang out across the clearing.

You looked warm. Not from the cold, but from something inside.

Travis didn’t realize he’d stopped walking until Natalie bumped his arm lightly and kept going.

He watched as you adjusted your grip on the bucket and nudged Javi’s shoulder with your elbow. Javi grinned back, wide and boyish, like the world hadn’t fallen apart around him. He said something else, and you rolled your eyes in that way you did when you were amused but pretending not to be.

There was something so natural about you two. Like this was just another ordinary task. Like you weren’t both dragging gallons of frigid lake water through a forest that had swallowed your old life whole.

Javi had been different since the crash—quieter sometimes, but more open in other ways. He spent time with Shauna when he needed to feel looked after, with you when he needed to feel heard, and sometimes with Travis, though those moments were rare and brittle, full of weight neither of them could shake.

Travis didn’t blame him. Not really. He just didn’t know how to reach back.

But you—you never made it seem like an effort. You didn’t try to “fix” Javi, or overstep, or hover. You were just there, consistent, kind, and maybe that was what he envied the most: how easily Javi let you in when Travis couldn’t figure out how.

He dropped his eyes as you got closer, like he was afraid you’d catch him watching.

“Back already?” Natalie called out, lifting her chin slightly.

“Water’s getting colder,” you said, your voice lighter than you felt. “Figured we’d get it done before the sun starts to dip.”

“Didn’t fall in this time,” Javi added proudly, holding up his bucket like a trophy.

You gave him a teasing look. “Barely.”

The four of you met at the edge of the clearing. You set your bucket down first with a soft grunt, shaking out your fingers from the cold. Javi did the same, then immediately reached for the hem of his sweater to wipe the sweat off his brow, totally oblivious to the way Travis had gone still just a few feet away.

You didn’t look at Travis right away. You weren’t avoiding him—you never really did—but the distance between you had grown sharp over the last few weeks, and you learned to protect your gaze the way he protected his silence. There was no use in seeking softness from someone who didn’t know how to give it anymore.

Still, the air shifted the moment you were near him.

You glanced at him once—brief, searching—and offered the same polite, quiet nod you’d given him every time he passed you since the crash. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He opened his mouth, then hesitated.

Natalie shifted slightly beside him, her gaze flicking from you to him with subtle expectancy. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t move either. Waiting.

And then—almost too low to catch—Travis finally said, “Can I… talk to you for a second?”

His voice was rough around the edges, not quite steady. He rubbed the back of his neck like the words had physically cost him something.

“Just a minute,” he added, eyes down now. “If that’s okay.”

It wasn’t a demand. Not even a request, really. More like a hope—quiet, frayed at the seams, like he was afraid he’d asked too much already just by standing here.

You didn’t speak right away. Part of you wanted to say yes. Part of you was still carrying all the ways he’d looked through you these past few weeks, like you weren’t even there. But something in the way he asked—unsure, and more vulnerable than you’d seen in him in days—made you hesitate for a different reason.

You nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Natalie stepped in before you could reach for the bucket again. “I’ll take that in for you,” she offered, already moving to grab the handle.

Javi blinked, caught off guard, but didn’t argue. Natalie’s hand settled gently on his shoulder, guiding him back toward the cabin. “C’mon, muscle man. Let’s not waste all your hard work.”

He snorted at that and followed without question, tossing you a quick smile over his shoulder before disappearing through the doorway.

And just like that, it was quiet again.

You turned back to Travis slowly, the space between you thick with everything he hadn’t said for weeks. You waited, heart thudding, eyes steady—but guarded. You weren’t going to give him everything without reason anymore.

He looked at you, really looked, for what felt like the first time in forever.

And then he exhaled, like he didn’t know where to start.

The cabin door shut behind Natalie and Javi, the latch catching with a low, hollow click that seemed louder in the quiet they left behind.

The clearing was still. The wind barely moved.

You didn’t speak, not at first. Neither did Travis.

There was a patch of dry ground near a thick stump, just far enough from the trail. You walked there without a word and stopped, waiting. You didn’t sit. Neither did he. He stood a few feet from you, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, eyes flicking to the dirt between your boots. It was like standing at the edge of something, and both of you were too unsure to take the first step.

You weren’t going to push him. You’d already tried—once, twice, maybe more. And when it became clear he couldn’t meet you halfway, you stopped reaching. But now, with his shoulders drawn tight and his eyes refusing to rise, you knew if you spoke first, he’d shrink back again. So you waited. Patient. Guarded. Letting the silence settle in around you, sharp as the cold.

Travis shifted his weight. His jaw clenched, then unclenched.

“I didn’t know how to start this,” he muttered finally. “Still don’t.”

You didn’t answer. Just looked at him. The quiet gave him permission to keep going.

He ran a hand through his hair, fingers trembling slightly at the ends. “I’ve been—fuck. I’ve been stuck in my head about this for weeks. Months, really. And I know I should’ve said something sooner. Before. Back when things were… before everything fell apart.”

He looked up at you then. Not fully, but enough to meet your eyes for a second before looking away again, like it burned.

“I’ve been ignoring you,” he said plainly, shoulders rising like he needed to brace himself. “I know. I kept pulling back, shutting you out. Not because I wanted to. Not because I stopped caring. But because I do care.”

You exhaled, slow, but didn’t speak. He wasn’t finished. You could feel it.

“I didn’t think I could hold it together around you,” he continued, his voice starting to fray. “After the crash, after my dad… after everything—my head just went to shit. I couldn’t feel anything without it hurting. And you—you make me feel everything. Like too much all at once. And that scared the hell out of me.”

His fingers dug into his jacket pockets like he was holding onto something physical, grounding himself.

“I’m in love with you,” he said, and this time he looked up fully.

It was a bare thing, the way he said it. Like he’d ripped it out of his chest just to offer it to you.

“I fucking love you—been in love with you since the day you offered me a water bottle after your practices. The ones my dad used to make me wait forever at.”

He gave a small, breathless laugh, like he couldn’t believe he’d said it out loud. “I remember thinking, ‘Who the hell is this girl, being nice to me for no reason?’ I didn’t get it. I still don’t, really.”

You could feel your heart pulsing somewhere behind your ribs, but you stayed still, letting him have the space. He needed to empty it out—needed you to hear it all.

“And I know you’ve been going through your own shit out here,” he added, quieter now. “I see it. I feel it. And it’s not fair—you’ve been carrying your weight and mine too. I just wanted to tell you that… that I love you. Not because I want something from you. Just because I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

His voice cracked slightly then, barely noticeable unless you were really listening. But you were.

“And I’m sorry,” he said, eyes lowering again. “I’m sorry if I made you feel less than what you give—less than what you actually are. Because if I’m being honest with myself, you don’t deserve to be treated any less. And I’ve been an asshole to you about all of it.”

He swallowed hard, jaw tight again, like the words had exhausted him.

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” he said, softer now. “I just didn’t know how to be… me. And still be close to you.”

The clearing was quiet again, but the air between you had changed—heavier, fuller.

You let a breath out and looked at him. Really looked. There was no performance in him now. No posturing. Just a boy, broken in all the wrong places, holding something gentle in his hands like he was afraid he’d crush it just by touching it.

And still, he’d brought it to you anyway.

Because whatever version of love Travis Martinez understood—it looked like this. Raw. Hesitant. Apologetic. But real.

He waited, breathing shallow, like the next second might split him open.

And still, you didn’t say anything yet.

Because you knew him.

And you knew he needed to be the one to say it first.

You stood in silence, staring at him, your face unreadable beneath the stillness—until, suddenly, the first laugh burst out of you like it had been caught in your throat too long.

It started small—a sharp breath through your nose, the flicker of a grin you tried to bite back—but it cracked open quickly, falling into soft, breathless laughter that came from someplace deeper than joy. It wasn’t mocking. Wasn’t cruel. Just real—the kind of laugh that breaks when it’s got too much weight behind it. The kind that holds years and fear and relief in its chest and doesn’t know what to do with them all.

Travis froze.

Not offended—worried.

He blinked at you, jaw tightening like he wasn’t sure if he should speak or back away, if he’d made a mistake even trying. His heart beat somewhere in his throat. The wind picked up around you both, rustling dry leaves at your feet, and still he stood there, paralyzed by the sound of your unraveling.

Then the laughter faltered. It collapsed into a soft inhale. A sniffle. And then a slow, trembling sob that you tried to stifle behind the back of your hand.

That’s what undid him.

“I—shit,” Travis said, stepping forward. “I didn’t mean to—did I—?”

His voice cracked. His hands hovered for a second, unsure, then gently found your shoulders. He didn’t grip you hard, didn’t shake or pull—just steadied, his touch warm even through the chill, grounding.

But the moment his hands touched you, you leaned in fast and sudden, catching him off guard.

Your lips met his like a breathless question, not quite certain, not yet desperate—just aching. A soft, hesitant press like you were afraid he’d flinch away. Like you didn’t believe this could still be real.

And for a heartbeat, he didn’t move.

But then—then he melted.

Travis kissed you back like he hadn’t let himself imagine it until now. Not out of fear. Out of need. His hands moved from your shoulders to your face, cupping your jaw with such careful pressure you felt it in your chest. His thumbs brushed your cheeks like he didn’t know what to do with how gently he wanted to touch you.

You reached up without thinking, your fingers curling around his wrists, anchoring there as your forehead leaned into his. The sobs still trembled in your chest, broken and uneven, your breath catching between kisses like your heart hadn’t caught up yet.

“I thought you hated me,” you whispered, voice thin, cracked. “I thought you were mad I kept trying. That I made things worse. That I—I made you worse.”

Travis pulled back just barely, just enough to look at you, and your tears streaked across his fingertips when he wiped them from your cheek.

“Don’t,” he said softly. “Don’t say that. You didn’t make anything worse.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, more certain. And then another, just at the edge of your mouth. And then one more near the corner of your eye, where a tear had escaped.

“I was scared,” he murmured, his voice low and frayed. “Scared of how much I felt when you looked at me. I thought if I let myself have any of that… I’d break.”

He pulled you into his chest then—no hesitation, no half-measure. His arms wrapped around you so tightly your feet almost lifted from the ground, your face buried against his shoulder as he held you like he was afraid to ever let go again. The fabric of his jacket smelled like pine and smoke and sweat, familiar in a way that hurt.

You gripped the back of it with both hands, your fingers curling into the seams, and he pressed his face into your hair, whispering again:

“You’re not a burden. Not to me. Never to me.”

And the wind kept moving through the trees, and the forest stayed quiet around you, but for the first time in weeks—maybe longer—there was no distance between you.

Your horse puffed loudly, his sides billowing as you charged him up the hill. Usually you wouldn’t work him so hard but today, you were blinded by rage. Tears marked your cheeks and your fathers words rang in your mind so loudly even the sound of your horses hooves couldn’t banish them. You hated him, hated what he had just done without consulting you at all! Pulling your horse to a stop you slipped from the saddle, allowing him to stand and catch his breath. Yanking your shield from it’s fastening in one movement you spun, heaving the shield with a scream to watch it bounce off the tree truck, leaving a deep gash in the bark. Striding back to your horse, you pulled your axe free. You twirled it a few times, the muscles contracting in your arm as another scream of rage erupted from you. The nearest tree got the brunt of your anger, chunks flew away from the trunk with each swing until your arms tired and you threw the axe hearing the satisfying thunk as it embedded itself into another tree. You thought about going for your sword next and seeing what else you could destroy but all the strength left your body.

You could feel the soft earth beneath your fingers, cool and fresh. Stones and twigs dug into your knees but you didn’t care as the tears streamed down your face. The distinct rumble of Thor’s hammer cracked from the clouds, hiding the god from your view as you lifted your head to look beyond the stark branches of the tall trees that surrounded you. You didn’t want to marry the oldest brother, he had his visions of travelling not settling to marry and have children. He had no desire to be a good husband, plus…your heart belonged to someone else. It always had, ever since you were young.

You held your breath at a soft rustle behind you, not daring to move as they approached, your heart pounding loudly knowing that your sword and shield were just out of reach. Inhaling sharply as pain blossomed from your scalp, his fingers entwined roughly in your braids, his custom dagger pressed firmly against your throat.

“What are you doing? Praying to the Gods?” His deceptively sing-song tone whispered past your ear. “Casting a spell?” He asked, dragging the flat of the blade against the exposed column of your throat. “Why are you out here?”

“What business is it of yours?” His grip tightened making your lips lift in a snarl.

“Don’t be rude to your Prince. I was only asking a question.” He roughly released your hair, the knife was removed as you fell forward, your hands barely catching you in time to stop your face smashing into the ground. Spinning to face him you almost hated the smug way he looked at you, his icy blue eyes dragging over you suggestively. “Don’t want to marry my brother huh?”

“You know the answer to that,” you replied.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he turned away, lifting a finger to pick at the bark on the tree he was now leaning against. Using the back of your hand you dragged it over your cheek, ridding yourself of the wetness that sat on your skin. Another rumble rolled across the sky, you could smell the rain approaching, the petrichor rich and earthy as it filled the air.

“Why did you come out here to find me, Ivar?” He shrugged nonchalantly in response to your question, suddenly refusing to look at you.

“I was bored. I wondered where you were.” His dark hair was pulled back into tight braids revealing the close shaved sides of his head. “I thought we could play a game, like we used to do.”

“What game did you have in mind?” You asked, crawling closer to him, sitting back on your heels beside him, close enough to touch him. Your breath caught as you eyed his armour, knowing the strength that he possessed in his arms and upper body made up for the lack of strength in his legs. He popped out his bottom lip trying to appear unaffected by your closeness but you could see him looking at you from the corner of his eye. “Because I can think of a new one.” You continued huskily, making his eyes flick to meet your gaze. He swallowed nervously, his throat flexing betraying his feelings. The cocky prince, the one who had an answer for everything was suddenly speechless before you. His chest heaved as you moved, carefully straddling his lap placing a hand on his armoured chest.

“We shouldn’t…” he murmured but you hushed him, pressing a finger against his plush lips.

“Surely it’s why you followed me? You wanted to see what I was doing. You always watch me, Ivar,” you breathed, tipping forward, your hips rolled in his lap and he tensed up underneath you. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” you whispered, your tongue flicking out to suck on the soft, tender lobe of his ear.

“I—we—”

“Suddenly so innocent Ivar.” Your hand trailed down his chest, feeling each bump and ridge of his chest plate. “Don’t you remember my favourite game?” His breath expelled in a rush when your hand found his weakness. He felt warm against you, his skin smooth and you slipped your hand under his armour. Your back flexed as his hand travelled slowly up your spine to the base of your neck. His fingers dug into your delicate skin, pulling you abruptly away from him.

“The rules have changed.” Before you could react the ground met your back, a gasp falling from you as he loomed above you. The grey light from the sky made him a silhouette to your eyes, his body a welcome weight between your legs. Lightning flickered through the clouds followed by the smashing of Mjölnir and you felt the vibration of the Gods in your very bones. Your body reacted to the hungry way he looked at you, his blue eyes dragging slowly over your body, his thick arms caging you to the ground. His eyes blazed angrily and you weren’t prepared for the loudness of his shout. “You are not mine to play with anymore!” His voice echoed through the trees, his teeth bared as he yelled right in your face, your heart stopping at the pain in his tone. With a sigh, his head bowed, slowly coming to rest below your ribcage and you dared to touch him. Walking your hands across his shoulders to finally trail a finger along the ridge of his braids and he groaned softly against you.

“I wish you would claim me Ivar,” you whined softly. “I don’t want anyone else.” Taking advantage of his lack of movement you pressed your hands against his cheeks, pulling him towards you until he was close enough to kiss. “I don’t want him…”

“I know, I know,” he moaned.

“Please…” you quietly begged. He paused, his bottom lip slowly dragged through his teeth as he contemplated his next move.

The hiss of the rain sounded on the ground, it washed over you both, loud as it pummelled into the ground. Sheets of water fell, hiding everything from view except Ivar as he stayed clutched in your grip. Water seeped into your clothes, creating a chill but you barely noticed as Ivar leaned forward. His lips were warm and soft against your own, revealing that gentle side to him that you always knew was there. Your hands pulled him tightly to you and your entire body exhaled with relief when his hands cupped your face. Ivar screwed up his face, as though kissing you physically pained him. He mumbled against your lips, trying to pull away but you desperately clung onto him.

***

Pale sunlight stretched languidly through the wide window, hindered only slightly by the heavy drapes that you had flung open last night before opening your window to breathe in the heavy night air. The dewy morning breeze slinked in through the open pane now that dawn had broken, carrying with it the smell of grass, and horses, and the faint aroma of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen. 

You cracked your eyelids open blearily, squinting against the invading light, and lifted your hand to shield your eyes as you surveyed the room bathed in its buttery glow. Nothing had changed in the night, not that you’d expected it to. You had awoken in exactly the same room you’d gone to sleep in, the same room you’d gone to sleep in ever since your earliest memory. The solid stone walls encased you the way that they always had, the curtains still swept against the floor as the breeze moved them with the same delicacy as they always did. You couldn’t help but heave a sigh. Life remained predictable. 

Your feet touched the cold stone floor as you stepped out of your warm bed, linen nightgown tickling your ankles as it fell into place when you stood. You hurried over to the thick rug that sat underneath your window, and perched on the firm stone cill. The people out there had already started their day, ignorant of the early hour. The courtyard of your father’s house was punctuated with the sound of hooves, and the chatter of workers as they prepared for the day’s tasks. 

You knew that it was too early for your handmaiden to arrive to help you prepare for the day, but the desire to be free of your stone binds pushed you to wash and redress yourself in a modest outfit that would keep you comfortable in the early morning warmth. 

You kept your footsteps quiet as you made your way down the stairs from your chambers and through the echoey rooms of your family home, offering a quick smile and a cordial ‘good morning’ to the few people you passed on your way to the kitchens. 

The kitchens were warm and busy, as they always were with the heat spilling from the ovens and numerous bodies bustling around and maneuvering around one another. You managed to slip through the mass relatively unnoticed, reaching the side door that led to a small yard where the chickens were kept. You grabbed the wicker basket from its hook by the door and scooped a heap of chicken feed into it on your way out, greeting the morning with a smile when you finally stepped out of the confines of the house. 

You took your time feeding the noisy chickens, watching with amusement as they frenzied around the food you scattered liberally for them. You made your way to the stables to greet your horse, Aurora, a beautiful chestnut mare with a temperament known to test even the most experienced stablehands. She seemed to be in a favourable mood today, whinnying loudly when she saw you, and huffing happily when you brushed your hand along her nose. Perhaps she’d be well behaved on a ride today, you thought absently as you fussed over her.

Time slipped away from you as it so often did as you wandered quite aimlessly around your father’s land, allowing yourself to bask in the feeling of sun on your skin and the soft wind rustling the trees in the distance. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” A voice sounded from behind you, breaking you out of your wistful reverie harshly. You turned back to the direction of the house and you quickly saw the person who had called to you. 

Evelyn was your chambermaid, and had been ever since you could remember. She was a matronly woman who prided herself on her ability to complete her duties in the same fashion day in and day out. She fit in well here, that much was true. 

“Forgive me Evelyn, I didn’t realise how long I’d been outside.” You said passively as you made your way back towards the house, dragging your feet just a little. 

“You must stop with these little morning wonders of yours, you know how much your father detests you being late for breakfast.” Evelyn scolded you as you passed her, she quickly turned to trail behind you, and you were grateful that she was unable to see the way you rolled your eyes at the mention of your father. In truth, there wasn’t much that your father, Algar, didn’t detest you doing. You decided it was best to keep whatever retort that was lingering on the tip of your tongue firmly held within, Evelyn was no different to any of the other servants in that her primary duty was to carry out her fathers will at all times. 

It didn’t take long enough for you to find yourself seated at your father’s table, eyeing the food in front of you with the feeling that you’d have much preferred to eat your breakfast outside, in the meadow of wild flowers that he hadn’t yet turned into farmland. 

“How fares the weather today?” Your mother, Rowena, asked you quietly. She was a soft woman, your mother, delicate and quiet. She had enough love within her body to make up for that which your father lacked, what a pity it was that she was unable to frequently show it. Before you even had the chance to respond to her, Algar had decided that it was time for him to talk. 

“I suppose you’ve forgotten that we are expected at Court today.” He stated loudly, firmly. It made you recoil slightly from the disapproval which seemed to roll off of him in waves. 

“I had not forgotten, father.” You responded evenly, keeping your eyes on the fruit you were cutting up on your plate.

“If that were the case, you would not have been out gallivanting in the muck this morning. You have dirt on your cheek and grass in your hair, it is unacceptable.” He ranted, going on as though you had presented yourself at breakfast covered head to toe in mud and sludge. You truly hadn’t forgotten that you were due at the King’s celebrations tonight, in fact, you’d been looking forward to it all week. King Eron was hosting a feast to welcome back his victorious Knights from a hard won battle in the north. 

“I’m sorry father, I will bathe straight after breakfast.” You tried to appease him with your apologetic tone and your slightly bowed head. He didn’t seem particularly placated, but he did leave you in relative peace while you finished your meal. 

When breakfast was over, and your father had excused himself from the table, your mother turned to you with kind eyes and a warm smile as she held your hand atop the table. 

“Are you looking forward to the celebrations?” She asked you, searching your face. 

“Very much so, I have never been to such an exciting affair.” You responded. You’d been to court before, a handful of times. But you’d never been there when forces had returned home from battle, and you’d been told that it was bound to be a long night of celebration and revelry. 

“Perhaps you’d best go and make your preparations then, we will have to depart sooner than you think. You know how your father hates lateness.” She spoke quietly, with a playful smile on her beautiful lips. 

Your attire for the feast was far more elaborate than the simple garments you’d dressed yourself in this morning. The fabric was richer and more vivid, the detailing finer, the colour perfectly suited to your skin. Evelyn assisted you in dressing, and decorating yourself with various fine pieces of jewellery, and you could not dampen down the thrill of nerves that fluttered through you as you dabbed rose oil on your pulse points. 

A night at court, what would people make of you?

***

The carriage shook and jolted uncomfortably as it was pulled up the hill towards the great castle perched atop it. The thunder of the hooves vaguely reminded you that you had not ridden Aurora today as you had intended to, and you made a mental note to go tomorrow instead. 

The closer the carriage drew to its destination, the higher the nerves crept up inside of you. By the time you had begun to slow to a stop, you felt the panic clawing at your throat, desperate for a way to explode out of your body. All the excitement you had felt in the lead up to this moment suddenly seemed to resolve itself into a dew, leaving you with only a fear of not knowing what was waiting for you behind the heavy doors you could see from the window beside you. But there was no time to dwell on that. 

“Come now! We can’t sit here all night.” Your father grouched irritably as he began removing himself from the carriage. You desperately sought your mother’s eye once he had gone, and she offered you a calm smile in return.

“You’re a vision.” She told you in her ever hushed voice, it was a private thought of yours that she’d trained herself to speak in such a way as a result of being married to Algar for so long. You gave her a minute nod of thanks, and followed her as she exited the carriage.

Your knees were frustratingly weak as you willed yourself up the steps leading to the entrance, you could begin to hear the light music of the lute coming from within, and your stomach growled at the heavenly scent of the food floating out of the doors, but the nerves did not subside. 

The banquet hall was just as full as you had imagined it would be, with the din of hundreds of voices ricocheting off of the walls which were decorated with finely woven tapestries. There were ladies floating around in dresses of every colour imaginable, and titled men peacocking in their expensive cloaks and heavy boots. The pageantry of court was not for the faint of heart, and you quickly began to realise that while you’d felt obscenely overdressed standing in your room in your finery, you fit in rather well here. 

You felt your mother discreetly guide you towards the far end of the hall, deeper into the crowds, and it didn’t take long for you to realise where you were being taken. Your eyes fell upon the two ornate thrones positioned upon a raised platform directly in your path, upon one of which sat King Eron. He sat with perfect posture, his crown placed securely upon his greying hair, and to his left sat his Queen. Queen Arina was considerably younger than her husband, but no less graceful than he, her silver circlet sat daintily on her beautiful black curls, the precious stones glinting in the candlelight. 

“My King.” Your father heralded firmly as he came to a stop in front of the platform, lowering himself onto one knee in a show of respect. You followed your mother’s motions as she bent into a low courtesy, keeping your eyes turned towards the flagstone beneath you. 

“Algar! Good to see you, my man, and your wife. This must be that daughter of yours, how she has grown!” The King thundered in response, causing many heads to turn in your direction. 

“Yes, my King, this is my daughter.” Your father said as he took his queue to rise to his feet once more, you and your mother mirroring him and straightening your postures, though you kept your eyes lowered. 

“What a beauty, a welcome sight for my battle weary knights I trust.” The King jested in a bawdy tone, causing you to feel an unpleasant heat rise in your cheeks. “What say you Ren? Do you find yourself suddenly rejuvenated?” He continued to joke. 

“Quite so your highness, you are very lovely my lady.” A new voice spoke this time, from a source you must have failed to notice upon your entrance. It was a low voice, it sounded almost hoarse, as if he had been shouting for a prolonged period, but it was beautiful nonetheless. It’s cadence forced your eyes to lift from their inspection of the floor, as if you had been enchanted to do so. 

This man, who had called you lovely, who had directly addressed you, causing a wave of chatter to rise amongst the spectators, was quite the sight to behold. 

He was a tall man, how you’d failed to notice him you weren’t sure, he towered above many of the knights who seemed to linger in his vicinity, though perhaps you hadn’t noticed him because of the was his inky hair and dark eyes seemed to form from the very shadows that filled the corners of the room. His armour gleamed in the warm light of the candles, and you watched with rapt fascination as he slowly took a step closer towards you, your heartbeat picking up in a way you’d never known before. Who was this man unfurling from the darkness?