selective & independent emily jane brontΓ« ( acclaimed author of wuthering heights ). penned by sophie ( 27, she/her ). 18+ only, minors & personals dni. re-established October 2025 after a two-year hiatus. first established 2017.
PERMANENT SEMI - HIATUS STATUS as primarily low activity ( please read this post regarding activity ).
mains noted beneath relationship status in the dossier.
members of the book club -> @malafxde , @killerhubby / @eternums , @banditborn , @heedingcalls , @viteoublies , @oathstruck , @ravenhe / @endaether , @aodamo , @krosakis & @spydcddy.
blogroll: @bungem
CLIVE NEEDS HER. Raging heat boils beneath his skin, the apothecary's naked form the only remedy to this fervent ailment. He needs her right now, lest he burn from the inside out. The undeniable ache for her touch barely subdued despite the push and pull of their bodies; the surface of her skin not enough to quench his endless thirst. Her body is perfect. The wide berth of her hips the final puzzle piece; firm hands guiding her entrance against his full length over, and over again. A scarred hand digs into her scalp, an arm looping around her hips, the warrior holding on for dear life as he feels himself nearing the edge of euphoria.
A pitched squeak is emitted when her head is wrenched back a little ; length of thick, wavy hair grasped in his hand as he continues to thrust into her from behind. The wagon seems to jerk with every slam of his hips, plush cheeks rippling under his rough ministrations. / :>
Emily's moans pitch, her song filling the serene darkness around them. With only fire light to illuminate the exquisite curve of her spine, her hair pulled back far enough to reveal her wanting gaze. Captured in amber irises, the licks of flame cast a flurry of dancing lights, pulsing and leaping elegantly within their enclosure. His movement slows, the grip against her flesh loosening as attentions are diverted to the pure beauty of them. The apex of his carnal desire dulls, a temporary lull as sentiment seeps between the cracks of his concentration.
This woman, she who healed his wounds regardless of his alignments; his intentions upon waking. This woman, who effortlessly loved him despite the secrets that remain unspoken. β Emily, β he exhales her name like a prayer, digits in her hair gently guiding her face to the right, all to deliver sensual kisses to already swollen lips. All the words he couldn't say communicated in them: I am desperately in love with you; I don't want to leave you; this love cannot last. Quiet, muffled moans hum from her throat, obscured by their kiss. As tongues slip together, each thrust of his hips more sloppy and sluggish than the last.
Sensing the emotion in Clive's heart, the apothecary shifts beneath him and places ink-stained hands against his shoulders. With a push, his back gradually finds its place against the wooden panels of her wagon. Usurping him, Emily throws a leg over his waist, straddling him as she takes his length deep inside of herself once more. Her entire figure quakes with pleasure, her breath hitching as her wanting hips pick up speed.
Hands rested upon the broad expanse of his chest, nails digging into the skin as she emitted desperate moans above him ; rolling her hips, bouncing atop him, adoring the sensation of every inch of him inside her.
β Emily, β curses Clive, teeth gritting as her vigor reignites the yearning flame within him. She needs him. Her love penetrates any doubts that plague him. In this moment, their love is eternal; sweeping away the storm clouds on the horizon. Calloused hands find their handles once more; intelligent design's finest work. They heave in unison, their souls closely entwined with every breath; every moan that pushes them closer to becoming one. He pulls her hips against him in synchronous with the roll of her hips, Emily's unruly locks blinding him as it tumbles over his face.
Muscles suddenly tense, his spine convex against the floorboards, as the internal pressure apex's and snaps. A moan bursts from his chest, several more tumbling from ajar jaw with decreasing volume. Emily wasn't done. With one last wave of gusto, she accelerates, leaving the overstimulated man to whine and writhe under her enthusiasm. She spasms, her insides like an iron-grip around his length as a conclusive cry rips from her throat, and she stills.
Quiet, the sounds of their dissonant breaths filling their senses as they descend from their high.
The air is chilly, the insidious croaking of distant creatures in the woods a reminder as to why he remained awake in the first place. Darkness suffocates them, the embers of their camp sizzling out under the dampness of night. The warrior sighs, pushing himself into a seated position below her, but pauses. Reality peers back at him, seemingly pleased with their exchange. Clive was thankful for the low light, as he is unable to hide the melancholy as it crashes back into him. Only momentarily stayed by her fleeting touch. Fiercely, he throws his arms around her, holding her close to him if only for a moment longer. Clive clings, desperate to squeeze every sensation out of this temporary, earth-shattering love.
