#Fight Their Doubt And Give You Faith | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

damiansgoodgirll · 2 months ago

Note

i know you said you were still elaborating smackdown but did you see raw? i have a request but it might contain spoilers? i don’t know how you feel about that sort of thing so i thought i should give a warning :)

may i request…

reader comforting rhea after the little argument with her war-games team. reader sees how worked up rhea is getting over war-games . reader try’s to get rhea to relax and not be in her head so much. yes she wants to get back at liv and raquel, but she needs to stay focused, and not go into the fight with blind rage. because she might injure herself more and hows she supposed to get the title back if shes all broken and injured??

plz rhea seems so worked up she needs to take it easy before she breaks herself T_T. -xoxox anon

rhea ripley x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️nothing major, some anxiety from rhea side, comfort, love and fluff overall

the leader

“this is gonna be a mess” rhea kept whispering as she paced back and forth through the small changing room.

“rhea, you gotta calm down…everything is going to be fine” you tried to calm her down but she wasn’t listening anybody but her mind in that moment.

“how? jade is injured, bayley took her spot last minute, i still argue with bianca. how do you expect me to calm down? the match is gonna be a total disaster…” rhea was anxious. she hardly trusted the girls on her team and the only person she wanted by her side was you. unfortunately you got a mild injury a few weeks ago and you were still recovering before being cleared out to fight again.

“bianca will come around eventually. bayley and naomi trust you. iyo practically adores you. you’re gonna be a great leader, i know that rhea…just have a little faith in yourself” you smiled, patting the empty spot next to you on the couch.

reluctantly she sat next to you “how do you know that?”

“because you led me to be the wrestler i am today” you smiled at her “you believed in me, you fought hard to get me where i am today in the company, that’s why i know that. you’re a good leader and i know war games is gonna be a success, i just know it” you had faith in rhea. you knew what she was capable of.

eventually she calmed down. laying her head down on your shoulder, you brought your hand into her dark hair, softly massaging her scalp “relax baby…everything gonna be okay” you whispered softly, feeling her body relaxed against you and into your touch.

but the days leading to the match weren’t exactly as you imagined them.

rhea and the team were training very hard. you knew how bad rhea wanted to have her revenge on liv and raquel, that’s the main reason she joined the team, but you had to remind her multiple times that this match wasn’t only about her, it was about the team, that she had to cooperate and help her teammates to win.

when the day of the match came, you noticed how tense rhea was.

“you ready mami?” you asked her as she was getting ready backstage.

you saw her reluctantly nodding “yeah…”

“rhea?”

“it’s just…i feel like they had more time to prepare themselves and come up with a better plan…” she was doubting herself.

“have you noticed something off during these past weeks? something that might make liv’s team crumble?” you knew that liv’s team was selfish and everyone was playing for themselves. you needed rhea to notice that too.

“raquel will try to stop me from attacking liv” she breathed out “candace and tiffany don’t go along to well, and tiffany is still looking to cash in” you saw the concentration in her eyes “oh, and nia can’t really fight”

“good. that’s good, use that in your favour. you know their weak spots, use them against them” you said “so now, let me ask you again…are you ready?”

“yeah…yeah, i’m so fucking ready” you smiled at her while she put her mask on. she looked incredibly hot with that gear on and you couldn’t stop looking at her “what you looking at?” she asked, clearly amused.

“oh, just about the gift you’re gonna get once you win this match” you winked at her, leaving her speechless as you left the changing room.

rhea needed time with her teammates.

they needed to talk about the plan, the tactics they were going to use.

and you gave them all the time they needed.

you stayed backstage watching anyone’s entrance. rhea was fabulous as always. you saw how rhea pumped her girls up and you couldn’t be prouder. she was a great leader, anyone saw it except herself.

as the match began, you noticed how rhea was letting all of her teammates go first, leaving her behind to be the last. you heard from time to time rhea encouraging the girls from the cage.

you knew she had this match in her hands.

her time came as she rushes into the steel cage. she was fabulous. you saw her confidence growing as she started doing what she can do best.

and the moment liv stepped into the ring, you knew it was over for her and her team.

rhea fought through pain and tears.

there were a few moments where you thought that liv’s team was going to win, you saw how tired the girls were but they never stopped fighting.

her team fought hard and they managed to get the win back home.

you happily cheered backstage.

jumping up and down, you saw how happy she was.

you couldn’t be prouder.

they did it. rhea did it.

you didn’t expect to come directly to you - knowing that she would be full with interviews and post victory photos - but the moment she won, her mind began racing and thinking about you.

you felt her arms coming from behind and you slightly jumped before hearing her comforting voice “i did it” she whispered in your ears.

you didn’t have to turn around to know that she had a big smile on her face but eventually, you turned to face her and her big smile melted you.

“you did it mami” you whispered, seeing her nodding.

“and that’s because of you…you believed in me when no one else did, when i was doubting myself, you were there to help me up…thank you” she smiled softly before leaning her face down to meet your lips. she was soft, delicate.

“you did it because you are amazing rhea, you and your team did an incredible job, you deserve this” you whispered against her lips, seeing her smile even more.

before she could kiss you again, you heard bayley’s voice coming from behind.

“sorry to interrupt but they are looking for you rhea, we gotta do some interviews” she said a little awkward, feeling sorry to interrupt.

“go” you whispered “go and have your moment, i have something planned for us tonight” you winked before kissing her softly.

she smiled, a genuine smile that was rare coming from her.

she waved at you before leaving the room with bayley.

you watched the whole press conference with a big smile on your face. you saw how everyone was happy to have rhea in the team. you saw how her and bianca got along together. you saw how she gained her team trust and confidence, how they all smiled at her.

this was a big moment for her - her big moment and you couldn’t be happier.

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honeyryewhiskey · 28 days ago

Text

BETWEEN HEAVEN AND DESIRE

angel!reader or dean's prayers save you from heaven's merciless punishment. the weakened state of your grace leaves you feeling a plethora of entirely human needs—and you're not sure you have any faith left in the home that crafted you to fight against those desires. warnings!! smut with build up 18+, depictions of violence, blood/injuries that heal, heaven being bad, body worshipping dean?, angel's first time. dean talks u thru it!! bc he would!! 4.8k words

It is not uncommon for angels to go rogue after too much time spent amongst mortals. So much so, Heaven has protocols for repairing a weapon who’s gone soft. Some speculate it’s one of god’s little amusements—create a fleet of soulless celestials, but leave just enough parts for something a lot like a soul to fester when touched by the right human.

It’s this paradox that plagues your mind as a dozen silver blades slice through your flesh and grace—again.

The Council surrounds you in a cold circle of judgment, their faces impassive, their voices ringing with divine authority. Each word of their chant strikes like a hammer to your heart: Traitor. Defiled. Corrupted.

“Do you repent for the sin of your attachment to the mortal, Dean Winchester?” one of them demands through the chaos of sound.

You want to scream, but your voice is lost in the agony. The angel blade—designed to kill—wields a newfound torture as each lashing cuts into your grace. Thick streams of blood pool from glowing wounds, as your knees hit the ground as strength gives way to pain. Withholding the tears that threaten to fall with shaky breaths, you cling to a lingering stubbornness, refusing to answer their demands.

This torment, their means of correction—it’s not enough to strip your wings or grace. No, they want you broken in ways you didn’t think angels could break.

Your response to their demands takes too long. As a result, a blinding light presses into your mind, and with it, flashes of Dean—laughing, swearing, holding you close after the darkest nights. The way his touch melted your resolve, the warmth in his eyes when he whispered your name. These memories are dragged out of you, twisted until they no longer resemble what they were.

They replay your time together, but in each retelling, they inject doubt. The gentle words he spoke now sound hollow, calculated. The moments of connection feel like manipulation. He never loved you, the light whispers, digging deep into your heart. He only used you.

You squeeze your eyes shut. “No,” you choke out, but it’s barely audible over the chanting and slashing.

The blades come down again, harder, carving away the truth of who you are, leaving only what the Council wills you to be.

“You were created to serve Heaven’s purpose,” one of the voices booms. “Not your own, and certainly not his.”

And then, through the torment, you hear it—soft, rough-edged, and impossibly real.

Your name in the form of a mantra, the beginning of a mortal’s prayer.

“Angel? I don’t even know if this will work, if you can really hear me... but I’m trying here.” Dean stumbles around his words, his doubt laced within each syllable.

Your breath catches. It’s a faint echo at the edge of your mind, pushing against the light’s mental invasion that’s trying to rework the fabric of your memories.

“I’m praying,” he continues awkwardly. “Guess that’s what this is. I don’t know where you are, but—hell, I just... I need to know you’re okay.” His voice falters, a pulsing pain taking up the space of his silence before his cuts in again. Quietly, like a bashful sinner in confession, “I miss you.”

The Council continues, oblivious to the sound of him, to the way his words infiltrate their illusions.

“Whatever heaven says—Angel, please, don’t trust them.” his tone shifts, fierce and treading on desperation. “They’re assholes, they’ll do whatever they can to make you be like them. Please, don’t let them change you.”

The tears finally break, streaming down your face as your hands curl into fists. His voice drowns out the Council, drowns out the pain, grounding you in the truth they’re trying so desperately to erase. It’s nauseating, trying to draw strength from your tattered grace. But the strain in Dean’s voice strikes your instincts, and everything inside of you fights against the light reworking your mind.

“I need you, Angel.” His voice cracks, “come back to me. Please.”

When an angel’s grace is weakened, it allows for heaven to remold the weapon like clay. A being reduced to material to work with. However, grace is the luminous silver line separating celestial from human. The more it pools out of you, shimmering amidst the red, the closer you reach mortality.

And the freedom of emotions that come with that kind of existence.

A tidal wave of remorse, anguish, fury, and desire radiate within. You can hardly breathe with the demanding sensations of emotion and survival. It’s consuming, and somehow—powerful.

The Council doesn’t notice the shift in you until it’s too late. The invading light that binds you flickers, then shatters as you push against it with every ounce of your will.

“Enough,” you whisper, your voice trembling through panting breaths.

They realize their mistake as you unfurl what little remnant of grace you can muster, searing their illusions away with a growling scream of defiance. The silver blades raise in their grasps, preparing for battle, as you rise to your feet.

But no part of you aims to attack, the only thoughts you have are of Dean.

“Stand down, Angel. You are not strong enough to take all of us.” one of them warns, but their voice is dim beneath the thunder in your chest.

You glare into their blinding forms, disgust written on their holy faces, chest heaving as your wings unfurl. “I am done fighting.”

And with that, you vanish in a burst of light, tearing through the veil with a single destination in mind.

In a blink, you’re standing in Dean’s motel room on shaky knees. The power you exerted to flee heaven has left nothing but a faint glimmer of grace within.

Dean is a mirage of movement, your eyes growing delirious from the draining of your essence. He catches your weakened form just as you begin to drop to the floor.

“Angel,” he says softly, his eyes raking over your wounds. Dozens of bleeding cuts, your clothes stained and tattered. The pain consumes you again, an aching cold taking over every nerve ending. His hand brushes bloodied hair from your face, his other arm wrapped so tightly around you, you’re sure nothing could rip you from his grasp. Not this time.

“What did they do to you?” he demands as your body trembles, clinging to the bits of grace that remain within your being.

“I’ll be alright,” you whisper, “just need… rest.” His warmth surrounds you as his hands steady you. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, the torment has ceased, and though your mind is a hazy mess of shattered memories there is one thing you know for certain: Dean’s prayers have saved you.

He hooks an arm under your legs and carries you over to the bed. With the gentleness of a man cradling a wounded bird, he sets you down carefully, his movements deliberate and full of quiet reverence. Kneeling on the floor beside you, adrenaline ripples off of him and invades your senses. The rapid beat of his heart, blood pooling his muscles on instinct.

You raise a shaky hand to his chest, but his focus remains on your wounds, fussing with the fabric of your tattered shirt to investigate their severity.

“Dean,” you whisper, but he doesn’t stop, your finger lift to curl around his jaw, “it’s okay—“

“Look at you!” he cuts you off, “why aren’t you healing?”

“I will, I just need time.” you murmur, dropping your hand and letting your eyes close again, “I can smell your anxiety, Dean. It’s—distracting.”

He scoffs, but the concern doesn’t unwind from his brows. “Right. You’re bleeding to death but it’s my anxiety that’s bothering you?”

“Yes.” you manage dryly, despite the moan of pain you expel as you shift uncomfortably, the injuries to your back are making lying down impossible. Through shaky breaths you sit up, Dean’s strong hands hovering your frame as you do so. His eyes are still on your wounds, the beat of his heart finding an impossible speed as you gingerly wrap your fingers around the hem of your tattered sweater, lifting the material to reveal the damage done to your body.

“What are you doing?” Dean’s voice is gruff, his eyes narrowing as he watches you shift uncomfortably.

A flicker of annoyance sears through, the intensity of it adding to your nausea. “Lifting my shirt.” your voice matches the feeling inside, your fingers fumbling with the hem of the tattered fabric as you give him a full view of your injuries.

“Why?” His tone is sharp, matching yours.

Your features contort with confusion, “because you clearly want to make sure I’m healing.”

His eyes quickly advert as he clears his throat, a hand running over his chin—something you’ve noticed he does when he’s ‘at his wits end’ as he likes to phrase it.

“Why are you looking away now?”

“Because you’re—,” he stops himself with a groan, a flat expression on his face as his eyes find yours, “why aren’t you wearing a bra?”

“Oh,” you look down at your completely exposed chest, “it seemed… restrictive.” An unfamiliar emotion prickles heat against your skin: embarrassment.

He nods, sighing as his head tilts, brows raised in quiet agreement. Your wounds remain a blazing red, skin working slowly to stitch itself back together beneath the bloody smear marks.

“See?” you remark, dropping the material to cover yourself again. “Healing.”

There is an anxious swirling in your stomach, one not bred from physical pain like you’re used to. The effects of weakened grace, the invitation of intense emotions feels like an uncomfortable itch beneath your skin.

“Uh, huh.” he hums, but his scowl mismatches the slowing pace of his heart, the anxiety he refuses to acknowledge, subsiding at the sight of your healing skin.

He rises to his feet with a huff, you watch as he disappears into the bathroom. A moment passes until the sound of running water breaks the quiet as he comes back in.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and you can tell me which sons of bitches I’ll be ganking for this.”

Dean scoops you up again without hesitation, his arms steady despite your weight against him. You don’t have the strength to protest—not that you want to—and simply let yourself sink into his embrace. His chest is warm, the rhythmic beat of his heart oddly comforting as he carries you to the bathroom.

The space is small and sterile, but Dean makes it feel safe. He uses his foot to push the door open wider and carefully sets you down on the closed toilet lid, one hand lingering on your shoulder to steady you.

Steam begins to rise from the filling tub, the water crystal clear and inviting in the dim light. Dean crouches in front of you, his fingers brushing against your knee to get your attention.

"Think you can handle this, or do you need help?" His voice is soft, but the tension in his jaw betrays the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.

You nod faintly, though your body protests every movement. "I can manage."

He stands, his arms crossed, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he turns his back slightly, giving you the barest hint of privacy while staying close enough to intervene if needed. You peel off your torn and bloodied clothes with shaky hands, the effort nearly exhausting.

As you step into the warm water, a hiss escapes your lips. The heat stings at first, the water seeping into the raw edges of your wounds, but soon the ache begins to dull, replaced by a soothing warmth. You sink down slowly, letting the bath support your weight.

Dean shifts, his eyes flicking over you briefly before settling on a safe spot on the wall. He sits down heavily on the closed toilet lid, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his green eyes sharp and unyielding.

"Start talking," he says, his tone low but insistent. "What the hell did they do to you?"

You hesitate, staring down at the rippling surface of the water. Your voice comes out hoarse, barely above a whisper. "They said I was corrupted... that I’d betrayed Heaven."

Dean’s jaw clenches, his knuckles whitening as his hands ball into fists. "Those pious bastards," he mutters. "For what? Doing the right thing? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? How you’ve been helping me and Sam?" His words dance around the truth. How close you’ve grown while working alongside the Winchesters. Something, an almost malleable energy hangs in the air between you two each time you’re together.

A line never crossed, words never spoken—but it has always been there.

You nod, your breath hitching as the memories flood back—the blades, the light, the voices that tore into you like barbed wire. "They wanted to... recondition me. Make me forget."

"Forget what?"

"Everything," you whisper. "You. Sam. What it felt like to care. They tried to rewrite me, make me believe your—friendship—was all a lie."

Dean’s face twists with anger, his fists pounding lightly against his thighs as he exhales sharply through his nose. "What gives them the right, huh? Because god wills it or some crap?" he says firmly, the words spoken in question, but you know in Dean’s book it’s more of a statement of fact. He doesn’t trust heaven or it’s angels. Well, all of it except you.

"I don’t know anymore," you murmur, your voice breaking. A lump forms in your throat as you consider all that has been done to you by the ones you followed, dutifully, for centuries. Your chest constricts in an unfamiliar pain, hurt and confusion finding an entirely new stupor within your heart. You reach for the soap, focusing on the movement of hands as you scrub the blood from your skin to think of anything but the pain festering within. "Your voice,” you being, voice at a whisper, “your prayer. It brought me back. You reminded me who I was."

He falls silent for a long moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. When he finally speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. "I should’ve prayed sooner."

"You did it when it mattered," you say softly. "That’s what saved me."

Dean looks up, his eyes locking with yours, a flicker of guilt and relief dancing in the green depths. "You shouldn’t have needed saving in the first place," he says quietly. "They’ll pay for this. I don’t care if I have to storm Heaven itself."

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. "I don’t doubt you’d try."

He leans back, his hands running over his face before resting on his thighs. "I just… I can’t lose you. Not to them. Not to anyone."

The weight of his words settles in the air between you, and for a moment, the pain and exhaustion fade, replaced by the quiet certainty that, no matter what happens next, Dean will always fight for you.

You place the soap back on the bathtub nook, the faint echo of the movement breaking the silence. Turning your attention back to him, you murmur, “Thank you.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, brow furrowed. “For what?”

“For caring,” you reply, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness of the moment. “And you can’t say you don’t—I can hear your heartbeat quicken when you lie, remember?”

Dean huffs out a breath, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth as he pushes himself to his feet. “Damn angel ears,” he mutters, though there’s no real heat behind it. “Come on, let’s get you outta here before you start pruning up.”

You let him help you out of the tub, water dripping in soft splashes onto the tiles as he wraps a towel snugly around you. His hands are firm yet gentle, careful not to brush against the worst of your injuries as he leads you back into the room.

Settling onto the bed, you adjust the towel around your shoulders, shivering slightly as the cool air brushes against your damp skin. Dean follows a moment later, grabbing another towel before sitting behind you on the mattress.

“Sit still,” he says gruffly, though the way his fingers work through your wet hair is anything but rough. He dries it with slow, deliberate movements, the repetitive motion almost lulling you into a trance.

The quiet is comfortable, filled only by the faint rustle of the towel and the occasional sigh from Dean. His presence, solid and steady behind you, feels like an unspoken promise—a reassurance that, no matter how broken the world might seem, there’s still a place where you’re safe.

“Looks like you’re healing pretty good. You feeling any better?” Dean’s voice is low, his fingers brushing gently over your shoulder as he speaks.

“Physically, yes,” you admit, “but I keep feeling things. Far more intense than I’m used to, because my grace is so weak.”

He frowns, tilting his head. “Feeling things? Like what?”

“Hurt, mostly,” you start, your voice quiet but steady. “And when we’re close like this,” you turn slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, “...desire.”

He clears his throat, the faintest hint of pink creeping up his neck as his eyes dart away. “I’m sure it’ll go away once your grace—or whatever—gets stronger.”

“No, Dean.” You shift to face him fully, the towel tucked around you loosening as your hands reach up to cup his face. It pools at your lap as cool air ripples goosebumps across exposed skin. His eyes snap back to yours, wide but unresisting, his hands folding over yours, warm and steady. There is a storm of hesitation in his stare, but he doesn’t push you away.

The faint scent of adrenaline lingers in the air between you, your heightened senses picking up the slight quickening of his pulse, the tension in his jaw, the way his breathing hitches ever so slightly. You search his face, reading every unspoken emotion that flits across it.

“Talk to me, Angel.” His voice is rough, his green eyes darkened with something you can’t quite name. His expression is soft but insistent, pressing you for more than just what your senses can tell you. “Don’t just sense me out. Talk to me.”

Your thumbs brush over the scruff of his jaw as you take a shaky breath. “The desire I feel has always been there. I’ve ignored it, buried it, pretended it wasn’t real. Because that’s what I’m supposed to do. But now…” Your voice wavers, but your resolve doesn’t. “Now I can’t just ignore it anymore. I need to give in.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and electric, and you watch as Dean’s expression shifts. His lips part as if to speak, but he hesitates, the tension crackling like a live wire between you. His hands tighten slightly over yours, grounding you, even as his restraint begins to waver.

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” his voice is low and cautious, like he’s trying to hold himself back.

“Yes, I do, Dean.” Your eyes lock with his, unwavering. “I may not be human, but I am not naive. And I know what I want.”

His fingertips curl into your hands, as if a tightened grip could still the rapid pacing of his pulse. Your stare is intense, boring into his jade irises. Searching for salvation in a new religion, one that might promise more pleasure than pain.

He huffs, a small smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. “Don’t you think fleeing Heaven was enough trouble for one day, little bird?”

You grin, tilting your head playfully. “Trouble’s never in short supply with you around, Dean.”

An exchange of breaths passes the divide, but it’s Dean who moves first. His lips capture yours in a kiss that electrifies every inch of your skin. His hands find your waist, fingers digging into sore muscles—making you gasp at the intoxicating sensation of hurt and relief.

Your lips match his pace, slow and controlled. You pull him closer with your hands on his neck, his body following yours to lie against the old motel sheets. He pulls away, his shirt coming off in one swift movement before he’s back to your lips.

You’ve never been more grateful to feel. Every press of his bare chest on yours thickens the heat claiming the reign of your core. And the deep, primal, desire to cling to him has your nails digging into his flesh. He groans as they do, the sound making you kiss him harder.

His lips trail down from yours to neck, giving ample attention to every spot he tugs into his mouth. One of his hands drag down your naval, fingers exploring new territory until they find your slick folds—plunging into flesh as something between a gasp and moan escapes you.

You’ve never been intimate before, and you’ve always wondered if it felt like possession. An invasive, vulnerable thing. But this—the way his fingers pump in and out—is like being unwound. Every stress and pain you’ve ever felt, untangling in the haze of Dean’s touch.

His eyes find yours, emerald peering through lashes, “you are the only damn thing heaven could ever get me to worship.” He whispers and it sends a shiver through you, the pressure of his thumb against your clit making you shudder beneath him.

“That,” you mumble through shaky breaths, “would be blasphemy.”

His stubble grazes you as you feel every note of his chuckle vibrate against your skin. His lips trail kisses down your body with a deliberate slowness. His fingers don’t cease, working you with ease as he sinks lower.

You grasp for anything—the sheets in one hand, tuffs of his hair in another. He positions himself between your legs, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin of your inner thing. Your body takes over, whimpering and rocking into him as he pulls the skin between his teeth. Retracting, a red love bite in his wake as hovers over your heat.

You glance down, chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern. It’s like fighting, the way your entire body is alive with an instinctual awareness of each part of you. But there is no anticipation of pain, no need to swing first. It’s a tantalizing resolve, a desperate desire to succumb to whatever feeling Dean might insight next.

He exchanges his hand for his mouth, your legs clinging to either side of his head on instinct. It’s a rippling wave of passion that flows through. His hands dig into your thighs, grounding him as his mouth moves at an intoxicating pace.

You’ve never heard yourself make the sounds that leave your mouth now, damn near animalistic as you let go of control. Breath hitching each time he sucked sensitive skin between his lips, releasing and reattaching at a dizzying pace.

“Dean,” you stutter through a shudder, trying to wrap hazy thinking around the sensation building within your core that’s making your back arch, instinct telling you to push into Dean. A tight notch of unused muscles is binding beneath his mouth, like all the tension he relieved is back—balling into your core. You’re squirming for a release as he quickens his lapping and sucking.

All at once—your vision blurs, body tightening as his fingers plunge inside of you again, the medley of pleasure surging into you with force. The notch unravels, waves of tension releasing in hot ripples throughout your entire body.

You’re humming through quieted whimpers as your body goes limp, Dean pulls away slowly—leaving little kisses all over sensitive skin. He runs his hands over your body, soothing the little shudders that remain of you.

He brushes a few strands of hair from your face, his touch featherlight as he presses tender kisses to your temples and cheeks. “We can stop here,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, his gaze searching yours as he hovers over you. “You’re in control here, angel.”

The sincerity in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, a warmth settling in your chest. But his words tug at something deeper, something raw. Control—a concept you’ve only ever understood as an illusion. An angel, a weapon, a tool of Heaven—control was never yours to wield, not even over yourself.

Your fingers glide over his lips, tracing the shape of the words he’s yet to say. “If I’m in control,” you whisper, your voice soft but resolute. “I want you to let me feel everything, Dean.”

He lets go of the breath he was holding, lips crashing into yours—a kiss to seal his promise. Your hands card into his hair as he fumbles with the rest of his clothes. The air that invades the space he leaves is cold and empty, but he returns to your skin swiftly, his hips claiming the space between yours.

He adjusts himself, and you inhale sharply at the pressing of his tip against your entrance.

“Hey,” he whispers, the steadiness of his voice melting any bits of nerves that peak through as he catches your gaze. “‘s all be okay, I promise. Just keep your eyes on mine.”

His gaze is soft and gentle as he eases himself inside your walls. Heat prickles on your skin, making you gasp at the feel of your body stretching around him. He dips his head, catching your lips in his as he sinks deeper. You’re gasping against his mouth, the sound meshing with his quiet groans as his hips rock against yours.

There’s a soreness in the sensation, tension giving out with each thrust. Your hips squirm beneath him, instinctively bucking into his movements, “You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he sighs, voice raspy, sending a shiver through you.

“More, I can take more,” you whisper, the words leaving your mouth without a second thought. All you can feel is a need for all of him—deeper.

He follows your command, his pace quickening enough to make your legs lock around him. His arm slides beneath you, a protective hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he holds your frame closer to his.

Your senses are overwhelmed by his scent—the endorphins pooling off of him and making you feel drunk on the smell.

In one swift motion, he pulls you up with him, arms wrapped around you in a heated embrace as you roll your hips against his—chasing the pleasure of his length knocking into the sensitive spot inside you.

His lips chase yours, a deep slow kiss that makes your hips move more desperately. Little whimpers leave your lips between each kiss, making his wandering hands dig into your skin with a desire to touch every part of you.

“Just like that—fuck,” he groans against your skin, his hands guiding your hips against his. Your arms cling to him as he lowers you back onto the pillows, his claim on your skin intensifying as his thrust becomes more greedy, needy as he takes control again.

His hands run along your frame, inching towards your breasts until your nipples are beneath his circling fingers. It makes your breath hitch, and that notch of tension forms within your core again. Your bucking his and nails digging into Dean’s skin are like an unspoken demand, and follows the cues you’re unaware of by sliding a hand down to your joined bodies.

His fingers work dizzying circles between your folds, your breathing falling uneven against his. Your muscles go tense again, tightening with each thrust of his tip against sore, sensitive flesh.

Tears prickle at your lashes as you cry out his name, losing yourself in the tidal wave of relief that flows through—leaving your body shuddering beneath his.

Your name leaves his lips, a quiet mantra, just as it did when he lifted his head in your prayer. His warm release threads inside you, coating your walls.

His hips stutter, falling into a lazy rhythm until he’s still. Breathing heavy against you, holding you in his arms for a moment as you both come down from the moment.

Sowly, he pulls away, shifting to lay beside you. Your mind is a complete sleepy haze, another new feeling for an angel who has never known exhaustion to the point of needing sleep. It’s a sweet, comforting thing—to want to close your eyes and give in.

Dean shifts, adjusting your body until you’re snug against his chest beneath the covers. His arms wrap around you, firm and protective, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in his world. Being surrounded by his warmth, his quiet strength, feels like a peace you never believed could exist—a haven you’re not sure you could ever let go of.

As your eyes grow heavy, his lips brush your ear, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet. “Sleep, angel. I’ve got you.”

speak for yourself - imogen heap album was on repeat while writing this btw. also i got lazy after dean's munch moment and did nawt re-read or edit the rest so i apologize <3 but i hope this was fun idk i kinda hate it now to be frank i d k ugh bye ily

#dean winchester #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x angel!reader

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squiddy-god · 5 months ago

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types of affection

(xiao, childe, albedo, zhongli)

What types of affection do they prefer giving and receiving? Yet another re upload

♥︎REQUEST ARE OPEN♥︎ don't be shy, send request for any of the fandoms on my fandom list, you can even recommend shows/games if they aren't there. Or even if you just want to chat! Anon is also always open!

Xiao

Giving : gift giving, acts of service

Alright so xiao knows very little about affection, his words are to rigid and his actions stiff, so those are out-

But he gifts you things, its cute really, the bright blush on his face when he gifts you unusual gifts.

Anything that reminds you of him, a pinecone he saw under leaves, small trinkets and animals made from leafs, rocks and smooth stones he finds by the water reeds, anything really

You won't know it at first but all the gifts he gives you are adeptal amulets, they ward of evil and bring protection, he'd never admit this fact but it's true, he fears for you so if you find hilichurls suddenly running from you its most likely coming from the small gift xiao gave

Acts of service can vary, anything from accompanying you on a commission to clearing out a camp of hillichurls that was in your path, xiao finds himself doing little things for you

Receiving : acts of service, physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time

Xiao has been serving liuye for thousands of years, if you do anything for him hes going to be smitten

Xiao likes to say that the things he does is solely his burden to carry, but the things you do for him he appreciates greatly, anything from making him almond tofu to rubbing his shoulders after a fight

His favorite to receive is if you play an instrument, even just humming a tune, it calms him and lets him feel at ease, like the karmic debt no longer beats on his soul.

While xiao is stiff when giving physical affection at first, to scared of hurting you to initiate it, he does love it

Xiao has most likely never felt or has forgotten the feeling of genuine physical affection, the feeling of your skin against his, your hands spread against his chest, its addicting t him

Xiao likes to feel loved, the fact that you want him close to you, that you feel safe in his arms, it warms his heart and makes him realise what he's been missing for so long, and now that he knows the feeling, he craves it

Xiao won't initiate physical touch, but he longs for it, and if you're on the roof of Wangshu Inn he expects you to be near him, as close as possible.

Xiao is insecure, his thoughts rage and cloud his mind, he often has doubts, and while he knows that you wouldn't simply leave him, and he has faith in you, words of affirmation are appreciated

Tell him that he's loved, that you aren't going anywhere, that he’s enough and will always be enough

He claims he doesn't need reassurance but the way his arms hold you tighter says otherwise

Xiao is also a fan of quality time, simply being in your presence calms him and he craves the feeling of you next to him.

At times like this spoken words are not needed, he just wants to know your next to him.

Childe (tartaglia)

Giving : gift giving, acts of service, physical touch

While the concept is the same, the execution is far different from xiao

Childe gifts you lots of expensive things, if he sees it and ir remiss him of you, or you stare at something to long- there's no holding him back

That being said all of his gifts are very well thought out and usually very sentimental

He gifts things that have meaning, things that relate to your interest and hobbies- and trust me, he knows all of your interest and hobbies (S I M P)

I have a headcanon that childe is hopelessly pathetic at arts and crafts, it always ends up as a disaster and he gets embarrassed, so he’s probably tried to make you something and it turned out,,,charming yet awful,,,he was about to scrap it when you saw it and it's probably the only time you've seen mr. saveu fatui so flustered

Childes acts of service are a lot difret from xiaos-

Xiao wants to make your life a little easier, childe wants a hit list

Deadass this man wants names and, if you would be so kind, addresses

If you need someone taken care of then he's your man, and he gets excited about it too (psychopath)

Of course he’ll also do normal things for you, like helping you lift boxes too heavy for you, or beating up hillichurls, he’ll even cook for you! He’ll honestly do anything you ask (S I M P)

Childe is especially clingy as work takes him away so often, besides that he strikes me and a generally touchy guy, he likes to feel close to you

Big fan of having you in his lap but he’ll settle for anything he can get, be it hand holding or an arm around your waste he’ll take it.

Receiving : gift giving, physical touch, words of affirmation

Child doesn't want you to buy thing for him, he wants handmade things, even if your as hopeless as he is, his heart melts if you gift him something you made,

Anything you make him becomes one of his most treasured possessions, it becomes something he genuinely cherishes and he wont shut up about it

He’ll gush about it for weeks and no one can stop him

As i said before, childe is a touchy guy, he likes to feel you against him, but you initiate affection? YES YES YES YES YES sign him up

He seems like he'd enjoy if you came up behind him and hugged him, hed tease you at first but inside hes melting and squealing

Praise him, he lives for it tbh

If he beat a hard monster tell him how strong he is, childe is a prideful man and your praise is something he greatly enjoys

Complimenting him on just about anything will get you rewarded with a barrage of kisses and a firm hug

Btw he gives great hugs, theyre strong hugs that make you think “holy hell did you fight a bear?” and they have a warmth to them that makes you feel at home. He doesn't do side hugs, it's full on hugs or no hugs

Back to words, if you get sappy and genuinely sentimental he will get SO flustered

Albedo

Giving : quality time, gift giving

Albedo loves spending time with you, weather you simply keep him company during his experiments or walking with him thru the streets of mondstat, albedo loves spending time with you

Claims he focuses better if your in his presence (it's a total lie)

Albedo likes to be able to sit with you while you eat, he's big on eating together and it gives him a (much needed) break

He also loves taking walks with you, the closeness brings a warm feeling to his chest and a smile to his face

Albedo also enjoys giving you pictures, often times theyre of you or things that make him think of you, anything from a sketch of you working or of a flower that made him think of you, a cute bird or a simple landscape, no matter what the sketch is of he always takes time to explain exactly why he decided to sketch that particular item or moment

His reasons are always very sweet, especially when he shyly tells you he just thought you looked cute in that moment.

Don't be surprised if you get a random branch or twig on your desk or nightstand, because albedo with casually take leaves and turn them into twigs (like in his idle animation) especially when he finds his mind wandering to you

Albedo is a sweetheart and wants to spend time with you.

Receiving : quality time and acts of service

Albedo loves that you want to spend time with him, he wants you to be as interested in him as he is with you, so your enthusiasm to spend time with him makes him happy

He likes doing domestic things with you, cooking, cleaning, eating meals together are all things he greatly enjoys

He also loves it if your interested in his work, sitting and watching him work makes his heart soar and makes him feel loved

Look, i like albedos voice a lot, it so calming and gentle- so like, sitting in bed by candle light, leaned against albedos shoulder while he reads outloud, occasionally planting a kiss on the crown of your head

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Albedo appreciates you doing little things for him (his quest be like)

This isn't just you running errands for him but also things like bringing him a little snack or a cup of water, dusting his study (don't move things, just dust) helping him button his shirt (dse it even have buttons?) things like that, small things that just make his life a little easier

*cough* kissing his temple and handing him a cup of coffee, sleepy voice whispering a little encouragement while he turns to give you a proper kiss. *cough*

Overall albedo is very chill and his affection is much the same, gentle domestic things and time spent together never fails to put a smile on his face

I love domestic albedo

Zhongli

Another domestic husband

Giving : quality time and words of affirmation

Zhongli absolutely LOVES quality time spent with you, he loves to simply be able to bask in your presence, to calmly sip tea and listen to your voice

Its often that zhongli will be sitting quietly in whatever room your in, it doesn't matter what your doing, be it dishes or reading, he’ll be sitting and watching you with nothing but adoration in his eyes

He also loves when you sit next to him, curled up by his side while he reads to you or tells you stories

His voice is *chef kiss* and listening to his storeys is always so calming

The gentle like filtering threw the windows as his voice recounts tales of many years ago, his gloved thumb gently smoothing over your cheek. His arm wrapped around your shoulders as you sip your tea and eagerly listen to him.

Zhongli is domestic, long hours of time where he does nothing but savor the feeling of being with you, no need for spoken words when everything feels as if it has slipped into place.

Zhongli has a very proper way of speaking, his words carry the weight of mountains behind them, nothing spoken without meaning and intent behind them

Zhongli has no issue speaking his mind, and the same applies to you.

He gives lots of complements, especially when he notices something different about you

You'll never doubt zhonglis love, how could you when his words are always spoken like facts?

I mean how can you argue when he states complements as if theyre set in stone?

The simple answer is that you can't. And if you try to argue you’ll face the wrath of the rock (his kisses lmao)

Receiving : physical affection and quality time

Shhhhhhhhhhh- zhongli loves physical affection and i'll die on this hill

Zhongli after so many lonly years finally has you, and he longs for the touch of your hands and the feeling of your lips on his

Zhongli melts into your touch, leaving into your hand cupping his face while he kisses your wrist with the utmost gentleness

Zhongli can't imagine he's comfortable to cuddle with, his skin is tight and has little to no give, his body is as hard as a rock, yet you snuggle into his side- it always brings a smile to his face

Zhongli is not an impulsive man yet he is often overcome with the burning urge to kiss you, he thinks hes slick but its all to obvious how his eyes drift and fixate on your lips, if you look close enough you might even see the way his pupils dilate, drawing into thinner slits when they stare

Zhongli loves if you take the time to get ready with him in the mornings, spending the morning with you is always very pleasant

Idk bout you but i'd be glad to get woken up if i was getting woken up by zhonglis voice

He wakes up early and brews tea every morning, and once its done he’ll rub circles on your back to gently wake you up, placing a kiss on your head and asking how you slept.

PLEASE offer to tie his tie for him he will melt

Hed smile and let you tie his tie, gently taking your wrists in his large hands and placing a kiss on your knuckles before planting a kiss on your lips

Domestic zhongli is the best zhongli

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satorusugurugurl · 10 months ago

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My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,498

Warning: stress, yelling, fighting, kisses, insecurity, self doubt, language, suggestive, whipped cream

A/N: Things are getting are getting spicy now!! Y'all aren't ready for part four!! A reminder, of you want to be included in the tag list YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One, Part Two, Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

The smell of cedarwood, one you used to love, was now suffocating you like a toxic gas. Your eyes blurred in shock as Toji pressed his chest against your back. Letting you know this was real and you weren't in a drunken haze.

“Are you listening to me?” Toji spoke again, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I told you we need to talk.”

A year and a half ago, the old you would have given in, allowing him to give you any explanation he pulled out of his ass. You, however, had grown in your time away. You didn't have to listen to him.

“I don't want to talk to you.” Your voice trembles, not in fear, but in a boiling rage that was settling in your chest. “Get the fuck off me.” The disbelief in his eyes is almost comical, but he doesn't move. “Get! The! Fuck! Off! Me!”

Your ex listened this time, promptly stepping back and holding both of his hands out in front of him. “Jesus fuck, sorry. But I'm serious about talking to you.”

A scoff of disbelief is the only answer you gave him as you washed your hands. If you kept your body constantly moving, you wouldn't freeze up again. Despite your best efforts, your traitorous hands continued trembling. Unfortunately for you, Toji noticed this, his eyes lingering on your hands before drifting to your face as you dried them off.

“Do I make you that nervous?”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?!” The rage finally boiled over, like hot milk on a stove. “Nervous?! You think I'm nervous?!” You stormed forward, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest.

Your rage and finger jabs only have Toji rolling his eyes. His much larger hand shot up, grabbing and squeezing your wrist. His skin on yours made you feel a certain way. That contact was something you craved before, something you felt like you needed. Now? That contact made your stomach churn with nausea.

“Ya’ done lying?”

“Let me go.”

“No, I asked you a question. Are ya’ done lying?” Toji steps forward, crowding you against the wall. “Because we both know you're lying to yourself. You are nervous; you've been nervous since you stepped foot here in Kyoto with your friend.” His words stung like lashings from a whip. “I make ya’ nervous; that's why you've been avoiding me. And I don't like being ignored.”

A rage burned in your eyes as he waited for you to respond. How dare he corner you and act like you were the problem! You yank your wrist away, glaring up at him.

“That friend of mine is my boyfriend! And I'm not nervous around you. I can't stand you. Being around you makes me sick.”

“Oh, that's rich. Why is that Y/N? Why do I make you sick?”

“What makes me sick?! Toji, did you forget you broke off our engagement a month before our wedding? You broke my heart! Being around you fuckin’ hurts; do you not understand that!? So what you see as nervousness is me trying to heal!” Toji’s eyes widened as you continued your rant. “So that’s why I have no desire to talk to you! I don't care what you have to say!” But knowing Toji, he wouldn't back down so easily. “But you won't leave me alone unless you say whatever the fuck it is you want to say! So what is it, come to gloat about your life as a married man? Come to show me a picture of your pretty wife?”

“Watch it.”

“Or did she find out about your gambling problem and can't handle it? So you want me back so I can take care of us?” You had fully intended for that to hurt, but your insults just bounced off him. A smirk turned at the corner of his scarred lip.

“You think I'd actually want you back?”

His words stung like a million scorpion stings. It knocked the air out of your lungs as you felt your stomach drop. Toji slowly came to the realization of what he had said, his smirk falling as he saw the tears in your eyes.

“Y/N, fuck, I didn't mean it like that.”

You shoved your way past him; your heart thundered in your ears as you grabbed your sweater and bag off your chair. All of your friends were far too drunk to notice the state you were in, waving bye as you headed for the door, dialing Satoru’s number. Hot tears flowed down your cheeks as you tried to keep some composure.

He picked up on the first ring. “Our first drunk call; I'm so excited to hear all the cute things you're gonna say.” When Satoru doesn’t hear the commotion of the bar, his teasing tone vanishes. “Y/N?” God, he sounds sincere, like he might care for you. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?”

“T-Toji’s here, and I—” a sob rips through your chest, “I can't do this.”

“Where are you?” You listen to him shuffling a door opening and closing.

“Outside of the bar.”

“Is he around?”

“N-No.”

His breathing was shallow; the background was breaking in and out. Was he—running? Why would he come running to you?

“Good, stay there; I'm on my way.” The line went dead, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone.

The inn was nearby, so it shouldn't take him long, maybe a ten-minute walk, maybe faster since he was running. But he couldn't come soon enough. Your head kept turning toward the door to the bar, anxiously waiting to see if Toji came out. God, you prayed he wouldn't.

Your chest was constricting, and your eyes blurred as you fought against the tears threatening to escape. You didn't want to cry more. Because it was a waste of time, energy, and tears. There was no sense in crying over something so silly!

“You think I’d actually want you back?”

His words were on a loop. Slicing into your still bleeding heart, cutting new wounds, deeper ones. Which was so stupid! You would never get back to him! Even if he asked you to. You two had grown apart, your relationship toxic. So why did it bother you so much? Words from a man that hadn't been in your life for so long!

You glanced towards the night sky, the stinging feeling slowly turning numb. You knew deep down why it hurt. A reason that made you feel sick and weak. Like some fucking pathetic character from a soapy book.

If Toji didn't want you, who would?

A hand gently grabs your shoulder, turning you around. You turn, expecting to look up to the almost magical blue eyes of Satoru. Only you can find dark blue eyes. You step back, only to have Toji grab your purse and yank it, pulling You back towards him.

“Leave me the fuck alone!!” Toji flinched at your broken plea. “Haven't you done enough tonight?!”

“Look, I’m sorry! I didn't mean it like that!”

You fight against every urge to punch him. “Oh!? Okay, what did you mean when you said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back?’ Because it seems like you meant it to me!” Your purse falls to the ground as Toji pulls you closer. His hands clamp down on your upper arms to prevent you from moving away.

“Will you shut the fuck up for five damn minutes!?”

More tears stream down your face; your eyebrows knitted together pathetically as he bent down slightly, forcing you to look up at him. There was no use fighting it. He wasn't going to stop; you were trapped.

Satoru was breathing heavily as he turned the same corner he'd walked with you earlier. When he did, he froze in his tracks, seeing you and your prick of an ex standing outside. Toji was squeezing you, yelling something in your face. Satoru’s heart clenched when he saw the way your eyebrows pinched together. You were distraught, visibly upset, and you—you were crying.

Something inside Satoru’s chest snapped, and he bolted forward, rage painted over his features. “Hey!”

Your head whirled towards his voice, Y/H/C hair, tear droplets flying. He swears it happened in slow motion; fuck, you were even pretty when you were upset. Your face softened, the disdain melting away like snow in the spring. All because he was there, knowing that he had that sort of effect on you made his heart race. Making you happy was all Satoru had wanted to do.

Something he had never felt with clients before. Because the more time he spent with you, the more Satoru got to know you, the less you became another client on his calendar. To him, you weren't just a number, a dollar in his bank account, were Y/N.

His Y/N.

Not this fucking assholes. Not anymore! Satoru grabbed Toji’s wrist, forcing him to release you. Your ex-fiance glowered as Satoru pulled you to stand behind him. When your hands clung to his shirt, he released his vice grip on Toji’s wrist.

“You again.” Toji sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, me, the boyfriend.” Satoru crowded Toji, the two men face to face. “I’m guessing you didn't hear me the first time.” He eyed your ex up and down. “If Y/N wants to talk to you, she will. But as you can see, she doesn't, so fuck off.”

Satoru backed off as you buried your face into his back. He knew you were crying. Still, your body was trembling, hands clinging to him, keeping you grounded so you didn't break down. The state you were in irked him the wrong way, and his fist clenched, longing to hurt the dick who'd hurt you as much as he’s done to you.

“I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and Y/N. So you fuck off.”

“I'm Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo family business. I'm also dating Y/L/N Y/N, and I plan on being with her for a very long time! Got it?! Good now, if you’ll excuse us; I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner, asshole.”

Satoru felt your grip loosen around him, a little gasp leaving your lips. “T-Toru.” A nickname, you gave him a nickname. God, he felt like he could fly.

“I got you, let's go.” Turning around, Satoru started leading you down the sidewalk.

He barely made it a foot away before he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt. Both fists shot up, ready to fight. Toji instead shoved your purse in his face. “Some boyfriend, you are almost leaving without her bag.” Toji waved at you as he headed back into the bar. “We’ll finish this another time, Y//N.” Satoru glared at him until Toji was inside; the second he was gone, Satoru grabbed your hand, leading you down the street.

You didn't say a word, but your smaller fingers intertwined with his, allowing him to lead you away. He pulled into a ramen shop, helping you in a booth before sitting across from you. You were wiping at your eyes, but more tears kept rolling down your cheeks. Satoru’s heart shattered seeing you so upset like this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccuped, “I god, I'm sorry, Satoru.”

“No, don't apologize.” He reached out, replacing your hand with his own. His thumbs gently brushed tears away. “What happened?”

You laughed, but it wasn't your usual happy laugh. No, this laugh was full of sorrow. Satoru didn't like it when you laughed like that.

With a breathless sigh, you leaned into his hand. “Toji cornered me in the bathroom. He kept wanting to talk, and well, things were said.” Your lips brushed over Satoru’s palm as you spoke. “In the midst of my anger, I asked if his wife found out about his gambling problem. And if he wanted me back to take care of him like I did. Jokingly, of course, and he—” Your bottom lip quivered. “H-He uhm, god, it's so stupid—”

“It's not stupid, please tell me.”

You took a deep breath, “He said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back.’” Your voice was so fragile as you repeated those pain-ridden words to him.

“Are you kidding me?” Satoru’s other hand cupped your other cheek. Holding your face gently as he watched as your face contorted with emotional pain. “This is the part where you tell me you're joking, right? That he didn't say that shit to you?” The mind-numbing silence was the answer to his question. “That motherfucker, I should have knocked him out when I had the chance.”

“I-I didn't even mean it, ya’ know? I wouldn't get back together with him.”

“Good, because there's no way in hell I would allow you to get back together with that asshole. You deserve so much more.”

Your Y/E/C widened and glittered under the lights at his words. “You think I deserve more?” Satoru nodded, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. The look on your face was full of hope, a look Satoru had never seen grace your beautiful features before. But that light faded just as fast as it appeared.

It was doubt; you had been hurt so much in the past that you doubted the genuine words he was saying.

”Hey, I don’t say shit. I don’t mean.” Satoru whispered.

”I know, I just, I’m so confused.”

”Confused because you’re drunk?”

”No, I’m pretty much sober now.” You sighed, pulling away from his grasp. “I just, I’m conflicted.”

”Conflicted over what?” He cocked an eyebrow as you flushed. “Tell me.”

You gulped down some water before running a hand through your hair. “I just, us.” Satoru perked up. “I know I hired you to be my wedding date and all. But I like you.” You chugged more of the water down like it gave you courage. “And it’s not only because you’re super fucking hot. I also like talking to you, god I love talking to you.” Satoru’s cheeks flushed, watching you closely. “But what is the cherry on top of the sundae of you being everything I’d want in a partner is the fact that you came running for me today.”

”Y/N—“

”You dropped everything and came running to me. Like a scene from a Rom-Com.” Your nails clanked nervously over the glass, your gaze drifting toward the awe-struck Satoru. “I know I hired you, and this is your line of work. But I can't stop thinking about the kisses—mmmph!”

Before you could finish your last word, Satoru grabbed your face, kissing you deeply. His fingers gripped your chin but shifted to hold your cheek in his hand, cupping it gently. With wide eyes, you slowly kissed him back, melting against him.

Satoru slowly pulled away, his thumb moving down, caressing your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve never felt like this about a client before.” He panted softly.

”Really?” You smiled wide as Satoru hummed happily.

”That day we talked on the phone, I knew there was something different about you. Something I want to explore.” You giggled, tears forming in your eyes as he wiped them away. “So, what do you say we order dessert here for a little date?”

You looked around before shaking your head. “No.” Satoru’s face went pale as he looked you over, searching for an explanation. “The dessert here is shit, let’s go back to the inn, and I’ll make us something?” Satoru's breath was full of relief as he stood up, grabbing your hand tight.

”You are such a brat.”

Despite being a brat, Satoru followed you back to the inn. He watched with curious eyes as you moved around the clean kitchen. You were pulling out mixing bowls, cream, and chilled sheet cake. Your tiny hands so gracefully washed strawberries, your touch gentle as if they would fall apart if you handled them any other way.

Everything you did was done with skills he did not possess. Slicing strawberries, cutting the vanilla cake into the perfect symmetrical cubes. Satoru found himself under a spell as he watched your every move. God, you looked so gorgeous in a zone like this. Your smile, the way you move with purpose, focused on constructing the dessert you promised him.

You peeked at him from the corner of your eye. He grinned as he rose from his seat, striding towards you as you poured heavy whipping cream into the stand mixer before switching it on at medium speed. Satoru had a certain gleam in his eyes as he oh’d and awed at the cream inside the mixer. He was so fascinated, and he looked like a child in a candy store.

You tapped his shoulder, handing him a small vial. “Want to help me? You can put the vanilla in.” Satoru eagerly took it, opening it. He sniffed the bottle before looking down at you.

“Give me a hand?”

“Sure,” your hand slowly ran over the top of his, “just do a little bit.” The two of you poured some vanilla into the mixing bowl. A rich smell wafted up in the air. “Was this just an excuse for me to touch your hand?”

“What?” His tone was full of faux confusion. “No, never.” He quickly put the vial of vanilla down, his fingers interlacing with yours as he pulled you into his side. “What's the next step, chef?”

“We add in sugar.” You worked your culinary magic, sweetening the whipped cream. “And that is how I make my whipped cream; I use it at the bakery.”

“I love the whipped cream at the Ichigo Cafe.” Satoru groaned out, looking into the bowl. “So fluffy and sweet!”

You tapped your fingers on the bowl. “Why don't you taste it? Tell me if it's sweet enough for you. Mr. Six packets of sugar in my coffee.” He turned to face you, resting his hand on his hip with a smirk.

“I am not at all ashamed of my likes, Y/N.” he pulled the top of the mixer up. “I like my treats sweet; I am the Gordon Ramsey of desserts!”

“Satoru, watch out for the switch!”

Satrou smacked the switch while scooping a finger full of whipped cream. The whisk attachment spun around several times, splattering the two of you with bloats of sweetened cream. Satoru quickly turned it off, looking around at the white mess.

A big blob of whipped cream fell off his nose, smacking into the metal table. The sound, his eyes slowly glancing at it, and the stunned look on his face knocked over your giggle box. Your head tilted back as rich, warm laughter flooded the kitchen. Making Satoru melt as he wiped the whipped cream off his face, licking it off his fingers.

The sight of his fingers dipping into his mouth. Had you choking on your laughter? Cerulean eyes burned as he slowly pulled his finger out, smirking. His thumb brushed out your lip, smearing whipped cream over it. The action had you breathing heavily.

“Tastes sweet, but I think you're sweeter.” He leaned down, his lips brushed over your cheek. “Ten times sweeter.”

You closed the distance this time. Pusjingnhis back against the table. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss—the taste of your whipped cream lingering on his tongue. Your sudden boldness had Satoru stumbling, eyes wide as you shoved Your tongue in his mouth, much like he had done to you earlier.

He whined, shutting his eyes tight as he grabbed Your hips, pulling you tight against him. “You're so beautiful, god Y/N.” He whispered in between heated kisses. “I think I started falling for you since that first phone call.” His honesty had you whining against his lips as he sucked and nipped at your bottom lip.

“Satoru~”

“God, I want you; I want you so bad, Y/N.”

Your heart lurched into your throat as you pulled away, staring into those blue eyes you were falling for. Satoru wanted you. He legitimately wanted you. Not just to take you out on a date, but he wanted you in ways you hadn't been wanted in a very long time. Ways you told yourself and Satoru you didn't need. But the desperation in his kisses, how his tongue moved against yours, and the hard bulge growing in his pants had your heart thundering, utterly breathless, and oh-so-wet

“Toru.” He groaned, trailing kisses over your neck, his hand squeezing your hips. “Toru.”

He pulled back, shutting his eyes tight as he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he sighed, “I’m sorry as much as I want you. I don't want to rush you.” Your hands trailed over his toned stomach, fingers undoing the button to his jeans.

“Toru, take me to our room.”

Tag list: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO!!)

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sansaorgana · 6 months ago

Text

— LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Six moons of marriage have passed and an unexpected visit of Lord Jason Lannister causes Ser Gwayne and the new Lady Hightower to have their very first disagreement. Not long after, she gets pregnant with their first child.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one. I wanted to include Gwayne and Reader having their first child in the previous part already but it was too long and the time skip would be too big so I decided to turn it into yet another chapter of the story. Since the pregnancy and birth would be quite boring, I added some drama with Lord Jason aka Reader's previous suitor from the first chapter (but the details are not required to be known if you haven't read the first part!). There will be one more part to this story for which I am very excited! 😊 Thank you for all the nice comments. 💚

WARNINGS — Lord Jason being himself, pregnancy, birth

WORD COUNT — 6,130

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

First six moons of your marriage had passed by quickly and peacefully. You couldn’t believe it was half a year already and you were very pleased with how everything you had been so scared about turned out to be not so bad – performing marital duties was nothing but pleasure and fun, meanwhile running Oldtown could be exhausting sometimes but you still enjoyed it most of the time and you proudly held your head high while helping your husband with all his obligations around the city and the castle.

Having your own property with your own servants to order around was a good feeling, too. Not that you wanted to abuse the power that had been given to you but it was simply nice not to be someone’s daughter but your own Lady. Well, your husband’s – but he had never made you feel like that. Ser Gwayne Hightower was a chivalrous knight who was treating his duties and honour very seriously. He knew that being a husband did not only mean getting but it also meant giving. He was your protector and a shoulder to cry on, a strong hand to hold you and lead you and fight for you. You trusted him with your life and you would never doubt his loyalty to you.

Sometimes you wondered why had gods blessed you with such a good husband as you doubted if you had deserved him. Not that you were a bad person but you had your flaws – your pride, your stubbornness. Yet, you had not fought even once yet with your Lord Husband.

Well, once, nearly. Gwayne had suggested that perhaps you should start wearing more modest clothing because The Highgarden fashion was a bit too revealing for Oldtown. You had scoffed at that and he had not brought that up ever again.

You knew that The Highgarden fashion was considered too exposing for lots of regions of Westeros. Only Dornish women liked even riskier gowns but Oldtown was a part of The Reach so its people were not shocked to see a Tyrell Lady in a revealing dress. You had a feeling it was your Lord Husband’s personal preference because his own sister was known as a woman of strong faith and modesty like her mother before her.

Despite being Lady Hightower now, you still felt a very strong bond with The Tyrells. You always wore a golden ring with a rose on it and you loved all sorts of ornaments and decorations in the shapes of roses. You were corresponding with your Lady Mother and sisters every week and sometimes you were still signing the letters as Lady (Y/N) Tyrell – out of habit that was visibly saddening your husband whenever he’d catch you doing that.

Just like right now as you were sitting by your desk and Gwayne was handing out letters for you to sign them. Those were some official matters that he was supposed to send out to his vassals but ever since he was married and Oldtown had a Lady, he insisted on you both signing them even though it was not a popular custom for husbands to insist on such things.

You didn’t even read those letters since you trusted him as you mindlessly kept signing a letter after a letter. You gave him back the last one and he sighed, which made you look up and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell,” he read out loud and you felt bad at the sight of his sad expression.

“I am sorry,” you reached out to squeeze his wrist. “I was not focused enough,” you admitted.

“I shall rewrite this one,” Gwayne waved the letter in the air.

“No, I shall do it,” you took it from him gently. “Or will it be seen as something inappropriate when they realise it was the wife’s handwriting?”

“No, it won’t be,” Gwayne smiled at you and allowed you to take the letter. “Can I stay here and watch you work?”

“What kind of husband asks such a thing?” You chuckled at him. “Of course, my love,” you leaned into his hand as he caressed your cheek and you placed a soft kiss upon his fingers.

Gwayne sat in the armchair by the window inside your chambers. You would spend some of your days here but all nights so far you had slept with him. However, the chambers he had prepared for you were so beautiful that it would be a waste to never spend your time inside them.

You rewrote the letter and handed it for him to sign and then you could start working on answering the letters that were addressed to you specifically. Gwayne kept sitting in the armchair and looking at you, occasionally staring out of the window. It was peaceful and quiet and you wished that moment could last forever.

The next envelope on the pile of letters made you furrow your brows. It was red and the golden wax seal had The Lannister lion on it. You checked twice if it was really addressed to you and not to your Lord Husband but no, it was very clearly addressed to “Lady (Y/N) Hightower of Oldtown”.

“Weird,” you hummed to yourself when you opened the envelope with a small dagger, without breaking the seal.

“What is it, my darling?” Gwayne turned his head around to look at you since he had been gazing out of the window and staring at the water.

“It is from Lord Jason Lannister and it is addressed to me instead of you,” you told him. It felt quite inappropriate so you wanted your husband to know for you would never hide anything of such a matter from him.

Perhaps you would not be so suspicious about it if you didn’t have a history with Lord Jason. He had been one of your suitors and your father’s favourite. In fact, he had been plotting with your father behind everybody’s back to win the tournament for your hand and he had been playing dirty by using his knight brother to pretend to be him.

“And what does he want?” Gwayne crossed his arms.

“Well, allow me to read the letter first,” you rolled your eyes playfully as you began reading.

Gwayne was trying to be very patient but from the corner of your eye you could see that he was tapping his arms with his fingers and you found it pretty amusing so you read the letter three times before putting it down and taking a deep breath in as you laid your eyes on your husband.

“He wishes to visit us. He claims he was around for his friend’s wedding and he wishes to stay at The Hightower for the night on his way back home,” you explained.

“What friend, I’m wondering?” Gwayne snorted. “Oldtown is never on anyone’s way. It is usually a destination, not a stop.”

“He says his friend is Lord Bulwer, they are our vassals from Blackcrown. He must reach Oldtown to get on the Rose Road. It is a faster way to get back to Casterly Rock than to travel alongside the shore,” you explained because, sadly, Lord Jannister’s excuse sounded very realistic. “Well?” You asked Gwayne. “We must give him an answer.”

“We are not in a state of war with The Lannisters, are we? We shall let him stay for the night,” your husband sighed and stood up to read the letter himself as if he wanted to make sure there was nothing inappropriate in it.

In the meantime, you began working on a reply letter to Lord Jason Lannister. Your husband kept standing behind you and examining every word you were writing down. He had never done that before, even when you had been writing letters of much bigger importance.

“I don’t mind you being in the same room as me while I work but this is a little uncomfortable, my love,” you tried to make him realise calmly when you were about to sign the letter.

“Do not forget your surname this time,” Gwayne reminded you and you furrowed your brows at the tone of his voice. It was not rude but certainly harsher than usual.

“Lady (Y/N) Hightower,” you signed silently, “of House Tyrell,” you added, just to spite Gwayne and you didn’t have to look up to know that he rolled his eyes. However, he did not say anything.

Lord Jason was supposed to come three days later in the evening, right in time for the supper. You wore a green dress for that occasion but you had a rose-shaped jewellery that your husband usually did not mind but on that day he seemed to be bothered by it.

“This jewellery is beautiful, dear wife, but are you sure it goes well with the dress?” He asked during breakfast as you froze.

“Since when are you an expert?” You turned your head around with widened eyes. Well, Gwayne knew quite a lot about fashion but his comment had irritated you.

“Since I am a married man,” he cracked a nervous smile at you.

“Yellow roses always go well with green for those are the Tyrell symbols,” you reminded him with a forced, ironic smile.

“Is this how you wish to greet Lord Jason in Oldtown? As Lady Tyrell?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.

“I have been walking around this city in this very dress and jewellery many times before and you have never said anything!” You protested and Gwayne blushed a bit because he had no idea what else to say.

You went back to eating because you didn’t want to torment him more by pointing out the flaws of his argumentation, however he did not choose silence at all.

“The dress is also quite low-cut,” he mumbled.

“Yes, it is, my beloved Lord, and what about it?” You clenched your fist around the fork you were holding.

“I suspect not many Lord Husbands would want their wives to greet their previous suitors in such a dress,” he commented.

“I have never treated Lord Jason as my suitor,” you scoffed. “And what is wrong with the dress?”

“Nothing,” Gwayne quickly fixed himself. “Nothing is wrong with the dress, my beautiful Lady,” he assured you and went back to eating.

“Are you perhaps jealous of Lord Jason? Do you wish to impress him or show me off as your property?” You asked after the sudden realisation as you laid your eyes on him again.

“Property? No. My wife,” Gwayne clenched his jaw as he explained. “I want to show you off as my Lady Wife.”

“My darling,” you smiled and shook your head as your anger subdued. You leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I would have chosen you as my champion during that tournament even if you were a beggar knight from a peasant family. I would love you even if you were a miller, a carpenter, a fisherman. And no amount of Lannister gold would convince me to go with Lord Jason anywhere,” you assured your husband and fixed his hair gently. “I want to show you off as my Lord Husband in front of him just as much.”

That seemed to calm Gwayne down for now as he nodded with a small smile and even stole a little kiss from your lips. You were alone by the table and the few servants walking around would not scold you for that anyway.

The sun was slowly setting down when you were standing by Gwayne’s side in the courtyard of The Hightower and awaiting Lord Jason Lannister. Your arms were brushing and you kept looking at each other once in a while as if you were giving each other courage. Not that you needed it but Lord Jason was rather insufferable and you knew that losing temper around him would not be good for your relations with The Lannisters. The relations were pretty fragile already anyway.

Finally, you heard the horses and saw a big, elegant carriage with the Lannister lion ornamented on its doors.

“I thought he would travel on a horseback,” Gwayne mumbled.

“Well, he is not a knight. He is used to certain comfort,” you whispered and wore a fake smile that very moment when one of your servants opened the door of the carriage and you saw Lord Jason walking out.

He looked around as if he could not see you nor your husband at first. Then, he faked a smile as well and approached you.

“Lord and Lady Hightower,” he looked you up and down and kissed the palm of your hand when you bowed your head down.

“Lord Lannister,” you greeted him.

“Ser Gwayne,” he nodded at your husband.

“Lord Jason,” Gwayne nodded back. “You must be tired after the journey. Come, the supper is ready and your chambers have been prepared.”

“Thank you. I have never been to The Hightower, I must admit,” Lord Jason followed you inside. He kept looking around like a curious cat.

“How did you get to Blackcrown, my Lord?” You asked him curiously since you and Gwayne had been wondering about it earlier – why was he asking you for a room to stay on his way back only.

“I went there by a ship, Lady Hightower, but the ship was the wedding gift for my friend,” Lord Jason answered and you nodded.

“Your wedding gifts are very generous, my Lord,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Well, I can afford such,” Lord Jason grinned at him as you reached the dining hall. “You must forgive me for not sending one to you, Ser, but in my position of a failed suitor, it would have been pretty humiliating,” he explained and you pretended to understand his point of view.

And it was not like you cared about any gifts from him anyway.

“Please, let us not dwell on the past,” you showed Lord Jason an empty chair by your husband’s side and he took it after you and Gwayne had sat down as well.

“I am not meaning to, my Lady,” Lord Jason informed you proudly. “I am a married man myself now.”

“Oh, are you? Congratulations, my Lord,” you smiled at him even though he had never congratulated you on your union. “To whom?”

“Lady Johanna of House Westerling,” Lord Jason answered and you hummed to yourself.

“Well, she is a lucky Lady,” you tried to be kind.

“Thank you, that is very flattering, Lady Tyrell,” Lord Jason bowed his head and Gwayne shot him a deadly glance. “Oh, do forgive me, Lady Hightower. The colours you are wearing have misled me,” he explained with a grin and you faked a smile but you began to feel guilty for not listening to your husband earlier.

“Green is the colour of House Hightower,” your husband reminded Lord Jason.

“Indeed but the roses…”

“My wife is not forbidden from wearing the emblems of her father’s house,” Gwayne interrupted Lord Jason and it was rude enough to make all of you sit in silence for a moment after that.

“Lord Jason,” you started quickly to change the subject, “why isn’t your Lady Wife with you?”

“It was not recommended in her fragile state. Lady Lannister is expecting,” Lord Jason straightened himself and you could see pride and smugness about him.

“Congratulations, my Lord,” you nodded at him.

“Aren’t you afraid of leaving your pregnant Lady Wife alone for so long when it is no matter of life and death keeping you apart from her, my Lord?” Gwayne asked and you clenched your jaw before kicking him slightly under the table.

“Ser Gwayne, there is nothing in this world women do better than give birth. She does not need my assistance,” Lord Jason found it quite funny, though, as he laughed but he was the only one doing so. “Speaking of, I’ve expected to see Lady Hightower being swollen already. How long has it been now since the wedding? Six moons?”

You froze at his question. It was incredibly rude to be up in other people’s business like that.

You had been discussing the matter of children with Gwayne in the very beginning of your marriage and you both had decided you wanted some time for yourselves before having children and to enjoy each other’s company first. You were regularly drinking teas prepared by The Hightower’s maester to prevent you from getting pregnant and so far it had been working. But if it had failed, you wouldn’t be sad about it either, for you couldn’t wait to have your babes soon anyway.

You exchanged a meaningful look with your husband, not knowing what to say. If you told Lord Jason the truth – that you wanted to wait and enjoy each other’s company – he would only scoff at that and find it hilarious.

“And who has told you that I am not swelling, my Lord?” You answered swiftly before Gwayne opened his mouth.

Lord Jason looked you up and down before humming to himself.

“Well, congratulations, Ser,” he patted Gwayne on his back.

“Thank you,” Gwayne gritted through his teeth and gave you a scolding look. “It is still very early news, though,” he added.

“May the Gods bless Lady Hightower and her offspring,” Lord Jason nodded at you and it somehow felt very sincere.

“Thank you, Lord Jason,” you gave him the very first genuine smile that evening.

The rest of the supper went pretty boringly and you said goodnight to Lord Lannister before the servants took him to his chambers. You and Gwayne went upstairs in awkward silence.

On your way to your husband’s room, you passed the door to your chambers. They were a floor below Gwayne’s chambers that were located at the highest level of The Hightower.

“I shall join you later,” you only mumbled out and he nodded, watching you disappear inside your room.

Your maids were already waiting there to help you into your nighttime attire. You kept sighing and they were exchanging looks.

“How was it, my Lady?” One of them asked. She knew your backstory with Lord Jason because she was one of the girls you had taken with you from The Highgarden.

“Lord Jason is insufferable as always and even though he is married now himself, he finds great enjoyment in tormenting my Lord Husband,” you told her.

“Well, my Lady, I doubt Ser Gwayne is angry at you,” her eyes widened.

“I do not know anymore. I have worn a dress he did not approve of and it indeed caused trouble. I have also said something… Something I should have not said and I have said it to defend his honour but he might not see it this way,” you confessed.

“Ser Gwayne is a very understanding Lord Husband,” the girl assured you and smiled while she brushed your hair.

You kept looking at yourself in the mirror’s reflection but you weren’t sure of her words. That supper had gone worse in the beginning than you had even imagined.

You thanked your maids and they left you alone but you kept sitting in the armchair and staring at yourself and at the candles slowly burning out instead of moving up and joining your husband as you had promised.

For the first time during your marriage, you simply blew out the candles and went inside your own bed. It even felt weird to lay there since you were not used to it but it just felt like the right thing to do on that night.

You couldn’t fall asleep though. And after a while of tossing and turning, you heard the doors open as the wooden floor squeaked under someone’s feet.

“Who is it?” You sat up immediately.

“And who do you think, my Lady?” A familiar voice made you sigh out of relief.

You reached your hand out in the darkness and Gwayne grabbed it as you led him into your bed.

“Why didn’t you bring a candle with you?” You asked.

“I felt a little adventurous,” he chuckled. “And I know my way to you by heart, my beloved Lady,” he added. “Why haven’t you joined me?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to, my Lord,” you admitted when he laid next to you under the cover. You cuddled him immediately by curling up next to him and putting your arm around his waist. “I thought you were cross with me.”

“I am not cross. I simply do not understand why you lied,” he confessed and kissed the top of your head.

“Is it the lie that you’re upset about?” You furrowed your brow. “I do value your honour but…”

“Not the lie itself,” Gwayne interrupted you. “Why didn’t you allow me to inform Lord Jason that we do not wish for children yet?”

“Because he would not understand and find you weak or assume you are unable to produce an heir and it is nothing but an excuse. I wanted to spare you further embarrassments,” you explained. “And… I am sorry for the dress…” You added, looking down.

“Do not be. I am sorry for insisting,” Gwayne rubbed your back. “And thank you for wanting to spare me embarrassments but now we are facing quite a challenge, aren’t we, my love?”

“What do you mean, my Lord?” You looked up, finding his blue eyes in the darkness of your chambers.

“I mean that Lord Jason now believes that you are expecting, my darling,” Gwayne smirked a little and you furrowed your brows.

“Oh no,” you gasped, faking the dramatic aspect of it. “And what shall we do about it now?” You wondered theatrically.

“Well, I have quite a few ideas,” Gwayne leaned in to join your lips together in a kiss as his hands pulled you even closer by your waist.

“Are you sure?” You breathed out between one hasty kiss and another.

“Only if you are,” he assured you.

“I am,” you nodded. “I am, I am, I am…” You kept repeating, suddenly realising how eager you indeed were to have your own little babe before you allowed your husband’s lips to devour yours with yet another passionate kiss.

Thankfully, Lord Jason was supposed to leave Oldtown after breakfast. You greeted him in the morning in another green dress and even though this one was pretty low-cut, too, you decided not to wear any roses on that day. Instead, you wore a necklace with The Hightower that had once belonged to Gwayne’s late Lady Mother.

Lord Jason kept staring at your chest and the necklace until it became a little uncomfortable and he cleared his throat before looking up to meet your cold gaze that you were gracing him with.

“I must admit I have not expected The Hightower to be that grand. It really is as tall as they say,” he bowed his head at you.

“We Light The Way, Lord Lannister,” you reminded him with a forced smile.

“Of course, Casterly Rock remains taller,” he added and you put the cutlery down, irritated. Gwayne gave you a look to remind you to stay polite.

“My Lord, why the remark? Is it a contest?” You asked him, trying not to sound too angry. “It is not the size of the castle that proves manhood. I do believe that you have already shown yours during the tournament for my hand in marriage,” you reminded him of his shameful behaviour and cheating. “The tournament which my husband has won fairly and justly,” you added.

Lord Jason did not say anything. He looked down and went back to eating while his cheeks' colour started to resemble The Lannister emblem.

You squeezed Gwayne’s hand under the table and the rest of the breakfast went pretty smoothly. You went outside to the courtyard to watch Lord Jason ride away. His farewell was pretty short and official. He was not trying to make any jokes anymore.

“My darling, you have acted as if you were a knight and I was a lady in distress,” Gwayne chuckled at you once you were finally free of Lord Lannister.

“Sometimes you are, my Gwayne,” you smiled at him sweetly and leaned in to steal a kiss from his cheek.

“Shall I get you a sword, my sweet?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Perhaps another time, Lord Husband,” you chuckled at that.

Two moons later you were watching Gwayne training with his sword as he was teaching a young squire on the courtyard. The day was quite hot but you had nothing else to do and you loved to watch him train anyway so you were sitting on a wooden bench, trying to remain in the shadow but you felt awful nevertheless. The sun felt too warm, the corset seemed to be too tight no matter how many times you had asked your maids to loosen it and you were hungry but too nauseous to eat. You blamed your condition on the weather and your upcoming monthly bleeding, which was late already but the soreness of your breasts could only mean that it would come very soon.

Gwayne kept looking at you from the corner of his eye with a worried expression because he could see that something was not right – you looked exhausted and your skin was a shade paler than normally. There were bags under your eyes and your voice sounded weak whenever you cheered for him or his squire.

He knew he was most likely overreacting but he was panicking deep inside that you could be seriously ill like his mother had been. The beginnings of each illness looked the same and losing you so fast after marrying you would surely kill him, too.

You were too exhausted to even notice the worried look on his face. You raised your head to shield your face from the sun and you felt a sudden dizziness that made you flutter your eyelids as your head grew heavy before losing consciousness for a short while.

When you opened your eyes again, the very first thing you saw was Gwayne’s furrowed brows and blue eyes filled with worry and fear. His cheeks were so pale that his freckles were more visible than ever and the strands of his auburn hair were tickling your face. His squire was standing behind him with widened eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” You asked and looked around while your vision was slowly coming back.

“You have fainted, my love,” Gwayne swallowed thickly.

“It must be due to the heat,” you tried to explain.

“Mayhaps. But I shall not underestimate your condition,” he picked you up the bridal style, carefully.

“What are you doing, my Lord?” You chuckled weakly at him.

“I am taking you to the maester,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

You didn’t protest because you knew he was worried and to be honest so were you. You only hoped that the maester would confirm that it was nothing serious.

Gwayne’s squire opened the door leading to maester’s chambers in front of you both and The Hightower’s maester stood up to bow his head. He had been sitting by his desk and working on something before you came inside.

“My Lord, My Lady,” he greeted you. “Is everything alright?”

“No, maester. My Lady Wife has fainted,” Gwayne laid you down gently on a bed.

“It is because of the heat!” You protested.

“Mayhaps,” the maester hummed to himself and approached you to examine you with his hands as Gwayne stood above him and watched worryingly. “Have you slept well, my Lady?”

“Oh, I can’t sleep for about two weeks now,” you admitted and yawned a little at the mention.

“I understand. What have you had for breakfast, my Lady?” The maester furrowed his brows.

“I was too nauseous to eat,” you confessed.

“May I ask you when was your last bleeding?” The maester raised an eyebrow.

“It should come any day now for it was more than a moon ago… I am sure it is going to come, though. My breasts are sore,” you lowered your voice a little, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you and Gwayne’s presence hovering above the both of you.

“May I?” The maester lifted his hands and you opened your mouth to answer but you noticed that he was looking at your husband and not at you.

“I mean, if you must…” Gwayne cleared his throat. “And if the Lady agrees,” he added and only then the maester laid his eyes on you.

“Go on,” you nodded and your heart skipped a beat when he grabbed your breasts gently through the fabric of the dress and squeezed them carefully. You hissed at the feeling.

The maester hummed to himself and moved his hands away before looking up at Gwayne again. Your husband shook his head out of anticipation.

“And?!” He asked.

“Lady Hightower is expecting. Congratulations, my Lord,” the maester informed and you opened your mouth slightly at that revelation.

“I… I am with child?” You inquired and sat up, feeling the sudden outburst of energy.

“I am quite certain of it. Too many symptoms confirming,” the maester nodded. “And when was it that my Lady stopped drinking the tea? Two moons ago, right?”

“That is quite right,” Gwayne answered and took you by your hand. He squeezed your fingers gently and sat on the edge of your bed. He placed a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand and looked deep into your eyes with such a loving expression that you felt butterflies all over your body even though you had been married for more than half a year now.

The maester walked away and sat back by his desk to give you some space but you completely forgot about his presence anyway for all that mattered was your husband and his child you were apparently carrying under your heart.

“Oh, Gwayne…” You stuttered out as your eyes filled with happy tears. “So it is happening… And to think we have Lord Jason Lannister to thank…”

“My Lady!” Gwayne frowned and chuckled. “Do not say such things. Some people might get ideas…”

“That is true, I guess,” you laughed at his comment. “Are you still certain that you will not mind a daughter if it is a girl?”

“All I care for is your safety. And the child’s. In that exact order,” he answered and you gave him a faint smile.

“Whether they’re a boy or a girl, I just wish for them to be like their father,” you squeezed Gwayne’s hand lovingly. “That is my greatest wish.”

A slight blush covered his cheeks and you smiled at his reaction. It was quite easy to make him flustered with such compliments for he had not been getting many in his childhood. He had been left alone at eight years old, raised by all the septas and maesters of The Hightower alongside older knights teaching him the craft and chivalry. His life had been quite a lonely one but it no longer would be for you would fill the corridors and courtyards with tiny little Hightowers running around.

Your screams could be heard on every floor of The Hightower – a monument taller than The Wall itself – at least that was what your husband had claimed with a chuckle when you nearly crushed his hand while squeezing it tightly. You gave him a deadly look and he lovingly wiped your sweaty face, pushing away all the hair strands that got stuck to your forehead.

You knew that Gwayne was trying to distract you with his jokes here and there but overall he was very worried – perhaps even more than you were since your pain was too overwhelming to focus on anything else. The septas were busy around you, wiping your sweat away, helping you to drink water and telling you when to push as they monitored the birthing process.

You had not expected your Lord Husband to actually be there for you but he had not disappointed you. You had been conflicted at first for you had been told once that wives should not allow their husbands inside during labour. But you were too scared to go through this alone and the pain was much greater than what you had imagined as well. Gwayne’s presence was bringing you great comfort even if sometimes he was annoying you.

The birth had started after breakfast and the sun was slowly going down already but the septas were assuring you that it would not take long from now on. Gwayne had not left your side even for a moment throughout the whole day.

“I did not mean to upset you, my love,” he explained, caressing your hand as if it was the most delicate thing in the world and not a deadly machine that had nearly crushed his hand on several occasions that day. “You are the bravest woman in the Realm to me. In all the Realms of this world, in fact,” he assured you and you just couldn’t be angry at him any longer.

You smiled and wished to tell him something equally sweet when a sharp pain distracted you and you turned your head around while wincing and squeezing your husband’s hand tightly again.

“I can see the head!” One of the septas screamed. “Go, fetch the maester!” She ordered the young girl who was only getting her training but seeing her pale face and terrified expression, you wondered if she regretted her decision to become a septa.

On the other hand, as a septa she would never have to go through what you were going through at the moment.

The girl ran out of the room and you kept taking deep breaths in and pushing like the eldest septa was instructing you. Gwayne kept holding your hand throughout that but seeing his face, he needed the breathing instructions as well.

The maester entered the chambers in a hurry with the scared young septa after him and in that very moment the child’s screams and crying filled the room. The sound was so loud and determined that you immediately knew that there was nothing to worry about for only a healthy and strong child could make such a fuss.

The maester hurried to the newborn baby and Gwayne was trying to see as much as possible through all the septas swarming up around you to clean you up a little and wipe your face from all the sweat.

“It is a boy,” the maester informed and you couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

You knew your Lord Husband could not care less about it but you did care – you loved him and you wanted to give him an heir.

“Is he alright?” Gwayne asked with a raspy voice.

“See for yourself, my Lord. He is a perfectly healthy babe,” the maester approached you two and handed Gwayne his firstborn son. He showed your husband how to hold the little head up and you watched with a loving smile the little bundle of joy staining your husband’s clothes with blood as he was screaming his lungs out.

“He is beautiful,” Gwayne mumbled and moved closer to you as you reached out your weak hands to hold your own babe as well. He placed him gently on your chest but his eyes were fixated on the boy. “Thank you for him, my love.”

“I thank you, my Lord,” you answered but you did not look up at him either since you kept staring at the screaming child. But when he felt your skin and your heartbeat, he stopped crying immediately and just kept staring at you with huge eyes. You chuckled at that and cried happy tears. “How do you want to name him?”

“Lord Edmund Hightower?” Gwayne suggested. It was no surprise to you that he did not propose his father’s name and you liked the sound of Edmund Hightower, so you nodded. You could not care less about the name, you were just glad to have a son and you thought it was only fair for the father to choose his heir’s name anyway.

“I like the sound of that,” you assured your husband as you looked up to meet his gaze.

“So do I,” Gwayne nodded. “And the sight, my Lady,” he added and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Only Gwayne knew how to make you flustered still, after over a year of marriage and right after giving birth to a child, dirty with blood and sweat but to him you were nothing but a victorious warrior that had just survived a battlefield and he admired you now more than ever before.

MASTERLIST

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x oc #tyrell oc #lilysfiction

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undertheorangetree · 1 year ago

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In The Woods Somewhere

Summary- Coriolanus does not intend on returning to the Capitol alone.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ DUBCON Female reader. TBOSAS spoilers technically. Reader is essentially Lucy Gray. Porn with plot. Toxic relationship. Possessive Coriolanus. Chasing. Biting. Restraint. Choking. Edging. Overstimulation. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex.

Author’s Note- Happy holidays! This is not our regularly scheduled programming but I have Hunger Games/Tom Blyth brain rot so here’s this monster. Please heed the warnings and link to the full fic on AO3 below

She knows the moment he looks up at her, rifle clutched in his hands, that he will not be coming north with her. Not anymore, not now that he has the one thing tying him to this place well in hand.

She isn't a fool. She knows that his feelings for her played only a small role in his agreeing to come with her but she had been willing to overlook that. When he had cupped her face in his hand and swore that he would join her, that they would escape Panem- and their collective noose- together, she had seen the hesitation there. Coryo was not a man built for nature, no more than he was built for the districts, but she loves him and so she had ignored it. Twisted it into something romantic and noble in her head, that he would give up all this, that he would leave behind everything for her. He had promised her earnestly and she had taken him at his word.

But with the look on his face now, some potent mix of elation and relief washing over him like a wave, she knows she never stood a chance.

"It's the gun," he says, and she hates the tone he uses. The way he almost breathes the words, the way he looks up at her with the ghost of a smile on his face. Had she had doubts about what the guns would inspire in him, the look on his face is enough to prove her right.

"The one you fired at Mayfair," she says with a nod, crossing her arms over her chest. It feels almost protective now, as if she can safeguard her breaking heart. "Spruce must have known about this place too. I guess it's not as secret as I thought. We hide that and you're free."

"No more loose ends."

The way he says it, his hands tightening on the barrel as he looks down at the rifle, makes her blood run cold. This is all he wanted, nothing short of a dream come true. She doesn't like it, her reaction just as much as his own, and she fights to push passed it. Tells herself that there is nothing wrong here, not really, that he is entitled to some semblance of excitement, but she can feel that unease gnawing at her gut. It feels like an omen. A warning.

She grins, hoping to seem more at ease than she truly is, and feels her nose scrunch up teasingly as she says, "Besides me."

It's the wrong thing to do. Immediately, he goes rigid, eyes darting up to look at her and she sees the distrust there, akin to a beaten dog. It wouldn't be as startling as it is if not for their conversation in the woods not even an hour before. He is willing to kill if backed far enough into a corner and is that not what she has just done? Reminded him of the power she held over him with this knowledge? Backed him into a corner? And just like that beaten dog, she can see that he is only a moment away from snapping at her with pearly white teeth.

"You wouldn't... tell anyone?"

She feels her eyebrows draw together, all attempt at joking gone. It hurts a little, what seems to be a complete lack of faith in her, and it's almost surprising. Almost. "Course not."

But would she? She doesn’t really know now. The fact that he believes she could, as if she could exchange his freedom for her own, feels like the final nail in the coffin. She could forgive his dislike of the idea of heading north, the relief on his face when he saw the guns. But what he said in the woods- three’s enough for me- and his distrust of her now… she doesn’t think she’s safe with him. All their talk of trust, of how he agreed it was worth more than love, thrown to the wind all for the sake of a duffle bag full of rifles. Because just as easily as those gun could buy her freedom, they could secure his own too. One small step toward returning to his life back in the Capitol. He was going to leave before killing Mayfair, she knew that. And if there’s no weapon linking him to the crime, he could. Because no matter how badly she wants to believe he wants a life with her, she thinks he wants his old one back that much more.

And she isn’t sure just what he is willing to sacrifice to get rid of all those loose ends.

She feels herself smile again, moving on autopilot to fetch the knife she knows is on the shelf near the door. It doesn’t reach her eyes but she isn’t looking at him, gripping the handle of the knife a little too tightly. “I think I’m gonna go dig up some katniss. There’s a good patch down by the lake, don’t know when we’ll come across it again.”

His suspicion only grows at that, lips parted and head tilted in question, and she knows she needs to go. Though his finger has not yet shifted toward the trigger, it hasn’t moved away from it either. He has been a Peacekeeper for no more than two months, but that was more than enough time to pick up all he needed to know about firing a gun. Even if his aim is shoddy, it wouldn’t take much effort to aim in her general direction and hold down on a trigger. She had said it herself, she is the only one left who knew the truth about Mayfair’s death- her murder. If he wanted to go back to the Capitol, he needed to be damn sure there wasn’t a chance of his time here coming back to haunt him. As it is now, she is the only thing standing between him and the Snow penthouse.

“Thought you said they weren’t ready yet,” he protests, that uncertainty still more than apparent.

She prays her smile doesn’t look as forced as it feels when her eyes flick up to look at his handsome face, doing what she can to seem nonchalant. “The world changes awful fast.”

She pulls the door open, the rain pounding against the porch outside, when he calls her name. Her grip on the knife tightens a hair more before she’s turning back to look at him, keeping her eyes wide and innocent as she tilts her head in question. She knows she hesitated, knows he caught her if the look on his face is anything to go by, but rather than let her panic consume her, she focuses on his eyes. The beautiful, brilliant blue of his eyes. That may be the thing she misses most about him, after all this.

“It’s still raining.”

As if a little rain is enough to stop her from saving her own life.

“Well, I’m not made out of sugar,” she grins, taking one last look at him before shutting the door, placing some kind of barrier between them.

Read the rest here :)

#Coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #Coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus x fem!reader #Coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #coriolanus snow #tbosas smut

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thesirencult · 4 months ago

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Their First Impression Of You

@thesirencult

Sidenote:Personal readings are now open! If you want to know what your future spouse is like or what's stopping you from reaching your true potential for 11€ then reach out to me 💕

Pile 1

The Hermit, Queen Of Swords

Their first impression of you is that you are wise and contemplative, an active mind behind a quiet figure who knows how to command others. Your energy reminds me of someone who is used to being part of an environment where hierarchy is prominent (military, corporate, church).

The Hierophant is not here, yet I can feel that you grew up in a strict environment but that this doesn't mean that you despise structure, on the contrary, you have learnt how to thrive in this kind of environment and make the most out of it. That's why I believe that this person will come across you in a "formal" setting within which you will be able to showcase all those qualities freely.

They will think that you have been through a lot and had a lot to work through to make sense of life. You are really pragmatic, startegic and wise to them. A person well equipped to face life in the streets, even if those streets are full of high status, power hungry people. This gets them about you, you are not power hungry, you are who others aspire to be. An excellent public speaker, able to convey your thoughts into words in a clear a concise way, putting to shame the best of lawyers.

You are a great counsel and remind me of the character of "Jessica Pearson" from Suits and the tv show, Pearson, who as a personality enough reminds me of my little sister. If you are my sister and you are reading this then, hi baby <3 !

Jessica is an INTJ, something that is uncommon for women. She is above drama and gossip and seems unapproachable. I heard "311" so I rushed to see if this is a significant episode in the series that can give us more information on how this person sees you at first. So, apart from the fact that 311, November, March or April and number 5 might be significant for you, from the "climate" of the episode I get that this person will meet you while you are fighting a crisis and that's why all of those good qualities of yours will be at the forefront.

If this is someone you are romantically interested in, don't worry that you'll be seen as someone too stern or high above. This person will respect you and that's a great foundation for a relationship to start.

Pile 2

The Star, 3 Of Cups, The Moon, 10 Of Pentacles

Pile 2, I had to pull multiple cards for you because this person's foresight baffled me. Your reading is very positive and there is no doubt that this person will see you as a kindred spirit, a soulmate and a connection that they wish they come across in each of their lifetimes. First of all, you remind them of a long lost sibling, you may also look like you could be siblings. Their first impression of you is that you are a wish fulfillment in the flesh. They will see you as someone that is glowing from within, radiant, inspirational, kind yet courageous. They will pick up on your spiritual nature and how faithful you are. You are a believer who they think is a great counterpart to build their dreams with. A friend and a potential future lover and life partner. They will think "The stars have finally aligned in my favor!"

Potentially, this person will come across you in a community setting. I'm getting light-hearted energy, doing a hobby, in a "brotherhood"-"sisterhood" environment. This person intuitively, from the first time they meet you, will know that you will play a big part in their soul's evolvement. "I found you again!", this could be something they tell you to tease you, like, stumbling upon you somewhere outside of the environment you usually meet at and they tap your shoulder and tell you that, but in reality they mean that they are really happy that they found you in this lifetime! They will be so pleased whenever they come across you and they won't be able to hide your smile. Your first meeting will be very serendipitous, as it may happen during a time in their life where it perfectly fits in.

Their first impression will be aligning with their purely intuitive idea they have of you if they have heard about you or saw you around. You will seem friendly, affectionate and eager to please others. This will make them want to be their best self when it comes to you and to protect you from the world.

The Moon tells me that at first they won't even know where this deep bond will lead you, they are just happy to be by your side and the same applies to you. At first you both will not even be able to imagine where life will lead you, but the 10 Of Pentacles shows that you are both worthy of love, building a life together and having stability.

To them you are pure joy, worthy of abundance and love. To the community that surrounds you, it's clear that your connection is different and that you'll end up together, as they can see that your person, who is usually moody and closed off becomes a golden retriever around you exclusively!

Before they fall asleep at night, on the day they meet you, they will think to themselves "After all, love doesn't have to be hard."

Pile 3

5 Of Cups, King Of Pentacles, 4 Of Pentacles, Ace Of Wands, 2 Of Cups

Pile number 3, who hurt you my love? I think that I'm interrupting something between you and Pile 2, or that I should be interrupting your train of thought to tell you that you deserve to be blessed with someone like Pile number 2.

I had to pull more cards for you, to receive lighter messages that would make you hopeful for the future and show you that you should believe that true love exists and it's not hard to find it. You just have to tune in to its frequency and you have not done that before, so, it's clear that this is what's hinderring you.

Your forever person, will read you like a book on your first interaction. I'm getting that they will have the opportunity to work with you on a specific task and that you will get to know eachother that way. They will realize that you're going through a period where your tender heart has been bruised by life. They will see you as calloused, full of grief and with fragmented expectations. The energy that you are going to exude to them is " I don't want to feel this way anymore!" You are shedding your old skin during this period and it shows. This person will tell you "You did what you could and now it's time to have faith and be hopeful that the future will exceed your expectations."

Don't worry though. Your person will also see other things about you. You have limitless potential and you have the desire to change. You might be a bit "love thirsty" and in need of watering but they won't mind filling up your cup, even if it makes you feel guilty at first and like you are taking advantage of them, they know that they are strong enough to support you through trials and errors and to invest in you.

They will notice how interested you are in personal growth and self development or how patient and determined you are when going after something. You are a workaholic and it shows! At the same time, your person won't think that you are interested in them, as you look like you have more than enough in your plate. You won't give off "neediness" but an air of "success is a feeling and I'm trying my best". You seem content with what you have and that's why your person won't try to take things to the next level or talk to you a lot, as they will think that they will burden you. In reality, you will think that they are lighting up your life with their generosity and loving nature but you won't know how to show them appreciation and this will keep going until you get to the point where you think "If I don't give them what they need, then somebody else will take them away from me!"

This is a never ending cycle for you, as you will seem closed off and like you are not accepting their cup of love. They think that you are logical, generous with your time and money, experienced in life and mature, with great ideas but at the same time there is a darkness to you that will make their flame go cold and they will reasses their approach to you as they will mirror your energy and become afraid that you will take advantage of them.

We have 2 Of Cups, so this is the real deal my Pile 3. You need to step up and work through your self-imposed limiting beliefs or else you will lose this person, by your own doings. If you work through this first bump on the road and open up slowly to them and show how much you appreciate them they will be loyal to you and a great partner/lover.

#astrology #level up journey #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #thesirencult #source:thesirencult

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girlwiththoughts13 · 7 months ago

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No place for a Dragon

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader

Warnings: Targ-cest/ smut!

Word count: 1k

~~~~~

The cold winds and bitter snow that dust over your skin feels far more harsh against the heat your body naturally emits. The frigid temperatures of Winterfell is no place for a dragon. The thought of remaining here until the ends of your days is more frightening than the prospect of marriage. For the lord stark is a kind and honorable man, that rarity alone makes your dreadful thoughts gently fade.

Despite this union being an arranged one-all to strengthen the north as a ally for your mother Rhaenrya- Cregan Stark had done his best the last 2 sennights of your residence in the foreboding halls to quail your concerns of a loveless marriage. He vowed to aways be faithful, and in time, come to love you as deeply as a man loves a woman.

There was no doubt you would preform your duties and give the wolf of the north your companionship, your body, and your name, but your heart was not as compliant.

It's not that you didn't find him attractive or kind or all the things a lady would hope for in a future husband; however your heart simply did not beat, at his more than adequate attributes.

How you wished to rip put your own heart, tear it asunder and remold it to fit the lord stark. He may speak true, as the years come love will grow.

In the main Hall of the keep you clutch onto the furs wrapped around your shoulders and await to meet the kinslayer himself. It has been long since you set your eyes upon your uncle. It seems he is still as brazen as ever, showing up to a house that went against Aegon's claim and alone at that. You wondered what was crossing through his mind. Did he think to take on the soldiers on his own? Even vhagar would not be able to defeat thousands of angry northern men.

Regardless of the trap you suspected, if able, capturing the second son of the whore Queen would be a feat for your side.

Lord stark stood beside you, jaw set and hand tightened around his sword. You could feel his eyes move to the side of your face, no doubt blaming you for the arrival of the man with the largest dragon in the known world.

Continuing to stare straight you decide to break the thick silence. "Will you turn me in to save your house?" The worry has set in your thoughts since the circling of the monstrous beast was spotted. Aemond surely is not here to discuss the notion of peace.

"Do you think so low of me?" You finally meet his gaze and find nothing short of offense, Starks were no oath breakers, to be accused by his betrothed of all people, made him believe he was not doing enough for you or the war efforts.

Before you could answer, the large wooden doors creaked open snapping your stare to the approaching men.

Four men surrounded the dragon prince as they walked, ensuring he did not try to assassinate there liege lord or their princess.

When the men came to a halt your betrothed stepped forward shielding you from view.

"I'd say I admire your boldness but I believe it's just stupidity that has lead you to my lands" Cregan spoke with clear distain and although his back was to you, you know his face is just as thunderous.

"I had to see for myself if the rumors were true, my dear niece being sold off. Tell me Lord Stark has she spread her legs for you yet? If she's anything like her mother then I suppose that answers that." Aemond speaks with a cruel tone and a smirk that never falters splayed across his face. The allegations against you and your mother, wretches a small gasp from your lips.

"How dare you, come here, dishonor Lord Stark and spew vile insults toward my mother the Queen and her daughter? I could have your head for that, send it to your bitch of a mother" The sudden sound of your voice and the threat against his mother struck a nerve if the hard-set in his eye was anything to go by.

"Nyke gōntan daor māzigon kesīr naejot vīlībagon nyke jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon lēda ao mērī" I did not come here to fight I need to speak with you, alone. His switch to your mother tongue was a obvious slight to Cregan, but you had not time to dwell on that, not when he was asking the impossible of you.

You did not give him the satisfaction of answering him in your native language. "Do you think I'd go anywhere with you alone? So that you may slit my throat or worse take me to the red keep as a hostage of the usurpers?"

"Give me one reason not to string you up? Or send you to the Dragon Queen?" Cregan obviously had picked up on Aemond's intentions and had begun to reach his limits of his presence.

The sinister smile returned on Aemond's face, making your blood run cold, knowing his hand was about to be revealed. "You're right. You could kill me right now or keep me as a prisoner, but not before Vhager burns this entire castle to the ground. I am prepared to meet my maker, are you Lord Stark?"

The Lord of Winterfell goes to rebuttal such a threat but Aemond continues. "Or, niece, we could have civil conversation, after which I promise to return you to your pup."

You step around Cregan, prompting him to reach his hand out to stop you from advancing. He gives you a pointed look, one you return.

You place your hand atop his to soothe his worries. You lean up to his ear and he angles his face down to meet yours. "I'll be okay, your house shouldn't suffer over a mere denial of conversation" The whisper of your voice reaches him and only him. You pull away to show your resolve leaning up once more to press a firm kiss on his cheek. Squeezing his arm as you pass.

Reaching Aemond he holds out his own arm to you, one you ignore. He lets out a chuckle and gives his head a light shake.

As you walk Aemond tells you of a cottage he happened upon, a near by place he had left Vhagar awaiting his return. Although you hate the idea of leaving the safety of Winterfell grounds, Aemond will not budge to a private audience in your quarters, therefore you walk silently beside him.

You stop walking when you both reach the door of the quaint cottage. Vhagar a little off to the side puffing out hot air, that reaches you from where you stand. He looks back at you with amusement. "Scared niece?"

Donning a smirk of your own you proceed onward aware of the mistake you were making and finding you did not care at all.

"Ohh.. Fuck!" The moans run out of your open mouth as your slammed up and down on Aemond's cock in rapid motions. The echo of your skins clapping together Is heard throughout the small space and should any one happen to find themselves taking a stroll near the grounds would surely hear the raptures of your pure pleasure.

Aemond latches onto your bouncing tit, suckling at your nipple and bringing a hand to knead the other. His free hand that rested upon your lower back, reaches up to take a strong hold on the back of your head, yanking the sliver tresses back from where you hidden your head in the crook of his neck.

He moves his feet to root them to the ground, to meet your thrust, your rhythm restrained by the small chair you ride him on.

"Does your pup still believe you a maiden?" His thrust growing harsher at the mention of your intended. "Does he know I've ruined you? Gotten deep inside this tight cunt and imprinted my name on the mouth of your womb?" It is a wonder he speaks as if not strained from supporting your weight atop him and the excursion of fucking up into you.

There is no desire within you to answer. You wish to forget of the realities of the outside world and be here and now. Feeling his warm skin on yours creating fire that stokes you completely alight. This will be the last time you lay together the war of fire and blood rearing its rotten head. You realize that was the reason for this. Showing up and demanding an audience with you. Risking his life for one more night with his princess, his niece, his love.

You place one small palm on his mouth to stop more vulgarness from spewing out. "Just shut up and fuck me harder, unless the dragon would like to yield to the wolf?" Aemond lets out a growl and winds his arms around you, standing to his full height with you in his arms. He manages to stay inside you as he walks you to the near by table. When he sets you down he pushes down on your stomach to lay your back flat against it,

The way he was fucking you earlier has nothing on the way he pounded into you now, practically embedding your skin in the oak of the table. Aemond has one hand on your hip and the other comes up to wrap tightly around your throat cutting off your air immediately. Your hand grabs his wrist but you make no attempt to free yourself from his grasp. Despite the circumstances there is no fear in your body, instead you find hot arousal, one that makes your already wet cunt gush more liquid at the base of his cock.

"My, my, look at this, what a sight" You glance up at him, his eye trained directly on the place where his cock disappears within you.

His deft fingers circle up to your clit and that is your undoing, your legs shake from around his waist and your back arches up, head thrown back, a loud moan tearing through you.

Aemond lifts you up to him, from the gap you made when your back raised off the table. Your head falls on his shoulder, limp from being throughly sated. Gone are the precise thrusts, replaced by quick hard shoves inside you, desperate to reach his peak. Once more he tugs your head back and kisses you deeply passionately, It remind you of when you were children, ignored by your elders and seeking love in each other. Kisses hidden beneath the blanket of darkness.

Aemond's stills and groans quietly as his seed fills you to the very end of you and there is a small part of you that hopes it takes root, so that you may have a piece of him always, even when he is gone.

"I love you" You both whisper, low as if you will be strike down by all the gods if heard.

Mayhap's you have already been scorned by their fury.

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen

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brittle-doughie · 3 months ago

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If ever Rich cheese cookie was part of the story, how would we meet her? I just want to know if you can give any hcs for her even if she doesn't exist irl lol

Perhaps you’d meet her when you and the group get locked up after the colosseum fight, she’s curious to go see these outsiders herself. To sort of practice, she’d act powerful with her voice by saying that outsiders were to be handled accordingly, but she can’t get herself to sound like her mom, leading to embarrassment on her end.

You’d meet Rich Cheese Cookie again when you confront Golden Cheese later on her throne, taking note of her mother’s interest in you, she wants to see what made you a sparkle in her eyecing. Yet, when you want to ask about her, she’s defensive and closed up. You try to make some lighthearted comments, saying that she’s got Golden Cheese’s spirit within her! She tries to put up a front, but she’ll start to subtly crumble in her defenses.

You don’t give up and keep trying to reach out to her throughout your trek across the city to handle errors, she slowly opens up more and more, to the point where she confides in you by asking why you were going through all this trouble for the kingdom…when she’s cut off by you suffering from errors. From this point, she’s actively worried for you as she takes you and the group to Mozzarella Cookie alongside Smoked Cheese Cookie.

Mozzarella Cookie would be the one to quietly tell you about Rich Cheese Cookie. How she may be Golden Cheese Cookie’s daughter, but she didn’t have that greediness in her eye like she did. When asked later, Rich Cheese Cookie would admit that she..had mixed thoughts about the kingdom.

She wanted to be a ruler just like her mother, but with how the kingdom denizens revered Golden Cheese Cookie, she wonders if she’ll ever be able to be just like her. The feelings of inadequacy…it makes her want to drift away from the kingdom, what if..she wasn’t good enough..but you don’t believe in that. She didn’t have to be just like Golden Cheese Cookie to be a great ruler, Rich Cheese had her own traits and strengths that make her..her! Nobody should get her down, not when the denizens have faith in her, not when her mother has faith in her, and not when you and the group have faith in her…

It comes to ahead when Smoked Cheese Cookie steals the soul jam. Golden Cheese Cookie is weakened and it was up to Rich Cheese Cookie to step up to the plate. She admits that she can never be exactly like her mother, but she shouldn’t have to! Her own will and greediness give her strength and the courage to see that she IS worthy of being queen someday! She fully expected to be met with doubt and worry, but was moved when the denizens cheered her on.

And once Smoked Cheese starts losing his composure, Golden Cheese joins Rich Cheese in stopping him! Rich Cheese thanked you for believing in her, she…now understood what her mother sees in you.

Now..about that offer. Will you be an honorary denizen to the Golden Cheese Kingdom? Golden Cheese Cookie is reminded of that earlier offer and follows up on it, wanting to hear your answer.

Oh, would you look at the time. You were going to be late for the hot air balloon ride back to your kingdom and make a mad dash out of there, with Rich Cheese Cookie and Golden Cheese Cookie coming after you!

#brittle answers #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #rich cheese cookie #cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cr x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader

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theflagscene · 3 months ago

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Think about how the Jack and Joker kiss was such a long time coming not just for fans, but for Yin and War as well.

Which is why I think they’re so snappy—not in a bad way, they’re protective of their show—with people complaining on Twitter. Consider, they worked together in 2020 during En of Love, where their own 4 episode story was the most popular out of all three story arcs. So popular in fact that fans wanted a more flushed out version of Mark and Vee’s story, but it’s not until two years later that they get to work together again, only they are playing the same characters, telling the same story, even saying the same same dialogue! Now, don’t get me wrong, Love Mechanics was a fair upgrade from the mini series. But after wanting to work together again for so long, they were just playing Mark and Vee again, how completely dull for them.

So they do what many Thai BL actors do, they go on tour together, at least that’s something. And damn if the mini heist YouTube video they make for it doesn’t do numbers! The fans want more of them, more of that! Hell they want more themselves, yet their—at the time—company wouldn’t give them roles. So screw it, they take a chance and don’t renew their contracts and become independent artists. That doesn’t always go well, and it’s a lot of hard work to get parts without a company trying to lock actors into years long contracts.

So they go full Saint and just decide to make what they wanna make on their own terms with their own money, Yin sold his damn car to help fund the series so they didn’t have to cave to corporate shilling of drinks and beauty products. It takes years to get a script hammered out, actors willing to take a chance working with them, editors, directors, all of it. And all of those people need to be paid, hell, they need to be paid!

But it’s here now, their real proper second series together, fresh and new after four—almost five—years! And what’s more, it’s doing great, amazing even. Now they have fancons in the work and tv interviews and magazines cover shoots (freaking Vogue Thailand!?), and so many companies reaching out wanting to invest in them. The management at Rookie Thailand is no doubt kicking themselves for not putting more faith in these men. They had the fans, they had the passion for the work and what’s more, they had each other. When you find that type of friendship, you fight for it, and that’s what they did to be able to make Jack & Joker. Yin and War put their blood, sweat and tears in their series, not to mention their money and reputations as well.

So when Jack and Joke finally kissed? Yeah, the chemistry was still there, was never not there. But those two, they had a point to prove and it was proven with that damn kiss.

Gifs snagged from @wanderlust-in-my-soul fantastic post—go reblog it—since after 25 minutes of scrolling it’s clear the episode gifs are too new to show up in the gif search engine lol.

#yinwar #yin anan #war wanarat #jack and joker u steal my heart #jack and joker #jackjoker

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just-a-ghost00 · 1 month ago

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Connection check in part (2)

To check part 1, click here.

Your current energy

A. B. C.

Their current energy

1 2 3

Their current energy - Group 1

I get a very calm and steady vibe from this person regarding you and the connection. I feel like their expectations, intentions and feelings towards you are very clear in their mind and heart. The energy feels very balanced and mature. I get the impression that they feel very good in your presence and treasure the bond you share. When it comes to you, they are very open minded and have a "go with the flow" attitude. They do not overthink your intentions or feelings because I feel like they are pretty confident about their own and they have a lot of trust and faith in the Universe. This person has a very spiritual vibe. They cannot focus on their daily tasks because you are constantly on their mind. This person spends a lot of time day dreaming about you, visualizing how being with you would feel like. I get the impression that they would be okay with taking things further if you verbalized it. However, I get a frustration feeling coming from this person with that "turn your tongue 7 times in your mouth before speaking". I feel like this person is upset that you do not trust them. I'm getting the message that any fear you may have about this person is not true. For instance, if you're thinking "they must not like me because I'm too this or not enough that", spirit wants you to know that you're wrong. What you dislike about yourself may very well be what they love about you. This person would like to communicate with you more. They have a lot on their plate that they want to share but I get the feeling you're not letting them in. However this person knows that they cannot force you so they are chosing to surrender and let you see for yourself how serious they can be. They want to give you the time and space to figure out on your own how they really feel and think about you. They do not intend to run away. It's like they're saying "I'm here and I will not move, if you want me I'm okay with it and if you don't that's also cool". This person is ready for any outcome within this connection because they've made their peace with the fact that they cannot control everything and that you have free will. Though, they have a very precise vision of where they want this to go and I feel like they will do everything in their power to get there. This person is determined and rather than feeling defeated by your resistance, it actually motivates them to try harder. They have their eyes set on you and they do not intend to give up any time soon.

Their current energy - Group 2

The person that's on your mind is chosing to set their fears and doubts aside, to ignore people's opinion and give your connection a chance. I feel like they are slowly but surely opening their heart and trying to come to terms with the idea that love doesn't have to be a struggle all the time. That not everyone in this world is trying to harm them and that there is good both in and around them. I am mostly getting air sign energy from this spread but I also pick up on Pisces and Taurus. I get the energy of someone finally accepting their dreams and letting themselves experience everything they didn't dare to do before. They're finally embracing themselves and letting themselves be seen for who they are. They are done fighting, resisting love and finally letting themselves receive. I feel like this person struggled with their self worth and they are healing that part of them through this connection. By chosing to love you and giving this connection a chance, they are also chosing themselves. They are turning the tables over and doing what feels right to them for once, instead of following others' unsollicited advice. I feel like this person never once did something for themselves and now they are finally making their own well being a priority. They are finally daring to dream and imagine what this connection could become but also what they could become. They are cutting ties with toxic patterns and people that did not serve their highest good. This person is also realizing that whenever they were acting off within this connection, it was because they were projecting their own fears onto you. They understand that though they may be different from your past connections or from what you are used to, it does not make them any less worthy of your affection. They are finally seeing their own beauty and chosing to let that beauty be shown. They are healing their heart at their own pace. For some of you, your person may be taking their distances with you to further connect with their own truth. They need time and space to see the good in them if they wish to let you in. I sense a desire to start anew and take back one's power. The energy feels very peaceful here. Almost dreamy. I feel like this connection is taking a new turn now that they have gained clarity and done some shadow work. They have a lot of affection for you but they may have realized that what they loved in you was also within themselves and that they should honor that as well.

Their current energy - Group 3

Blue could be your person's favorite color. In terms of zodiac signs, I'm getting Gemini and Taurus mainly, also Leo was mentioned on the Azurite card. There's a lot of throat chakra activity going on here. There may have been communication blockages within this connection in the past. Your person has realized that they treated you poorly in the past. That their fears played a huge role in the connection's imbalance and communication issues you were facing. Through your interactions and the effect of this connection on them, they have been faced with a lot of their shadows. They needed a lot of courage to be able to overcome their fears around intimacy, being vulnerable and truthful around you. This person may have told you harsh truths or spoken badly of you behind your back and they regret their actions. This person understands that their judgment of you was false and when they were being judgmental towards you was because what they saw was a reflection of a part of themselves they couldn't embrace. This person was afraid of the depth of this connection and the depth of their own feelings in your presence. They were not capable of embracing the light that was shining on them thanks to this connection you shared. They were just not ready for it. With that understanding of the dynamics of your bond, this person is now choosing to be mindful and to see the truth. They are chosing to leave the past behind and move forward, renewed and rejuvenated, ridden of all their fears and judgments. Whether they choose to give you a chance or to go their own way, this person is not the same anymore. They are letting in more love into their life and softness that they didn't allow themselves to feel nor express. They may want to communicate with you about their awakening. I also get the feeling that spirit has been working behind the scenes to help this person get out of their state of confusion and see the connection clearly. Illusions were destroyed, their ego was quieted down for their heart to be allowed to shine through. When you met them, this person may have been struggling with depression, which you could have been aware of or not. I feel, thought, that your person did not want to admit that they were not okay. But interacting with you, they came to see that some things in their life needed to change. Some cleansing was needed. Most of it was in their mind I feel. It's like they failed to perceive you or themselves in a good way because their mind was clouded with negative self talk and false perceptions of love and relationships. Maybe they rejected you because of cultural differences or other factors. I'm specifically picking up on differences in communication styles or language barrier. Also, I'm getting a strong feeling that this person's friends played a huge role in them rejecting you. There were people around them that did not see your closeness in a good light and they attempted to get your person to hate you. Like spreading false rumors about you dating other people or saying stuff like "I heard group 3 doesn't like you, they spoke badly of you to their friends". But somehow your person came to understand that this wasn't true. I'm not sure what got them to change their mind about you but I really get this strong impression that they see you in a different light and have taken a new found interest in you.

Decks used : Crystals oracle, Threads of fate shadow edition, I don't care oracle deck, Soul truth oracle deck, Enchanted forest oracle cards, Beast Soul oracle cards, White Numen Tarot light edition, Spirit Junkie Oracle, Des potes en ciel Oracle

#just-a-ghost #pick a card #pac reading #tarot reading #love pac #oracle cards

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mx-pastelwriting · 10 months ago

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RDR2 HC - Running away together & what would it take

RDR2 x GN! Reader

Summary: Running away together & what would it take for them to.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Running away, Some Happy Endings

Characters: Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Hosea Matthews, John Marston, Josiah Trelawny

Dutch van der Linde

- A hard task in itself, prying Dutch away from his power over the gang, it's an almost impossible task. Though echoing Hosea's words to lie low would earn you some time in having a voice over Micah's, he would consider it.

- Nightly talks cuddled up in his arms, imagining life away from the one you have aloud; he entertains it, but not without saying some doubtful scenarios. Having to change your ways, almost manipulating him into taking that life as a real thing.

- Never leaving his side, hearing every thought, not giving Micah a chance to talk to him in private, in turn driving you crazy. Doing anything for that good life, leaving your intentions to change just to get your Dutch safe.

- Every day drained you; all that work had finally caught up to you. Slowly, you lost faith as the gang came into more trouble, making you come to a realization. You made your choice.

- A night of loving Dutch one more time, cuddled up into his arms, then having to leave them. Leaving him in a deep sleep with a final kiss. Taking your horse he had gotten for you a long time ago and what little clothes you had left from all the years of running. Finally leaving in the cold night, not daring to look back.

A year had gone by, and still you dreamt about that day and its many outcomes, but all you could do was smile at the memory of his messed hair loving him for that final night. Telling yourself over and over that it spared the both of you, there was no use to keep trying. Leaving to build your own life, living out your dream that you tried so hard to convince Dutch of so many times.

He would have loved it, just the two of you; he just couldn't see it. Getting up from your bed, dressing up for the day, and having to live off of the small land you fought to get months after. Making your way to the kitchen, readying breakfast before your day of work, but a knock interrupts you from the task.

Grabbing your old weapon, hoping it still worked, then walking slowly to the door, pointing the weapon from your hip. Upon opening the door, your mind and body went blank. Dutch was standing at your front door, looking like shit. "Dear," he says, voice cracking. Even after all this time, he charmed his way into your heart, igniting your love again.

Arthur Morgan

- You both have always talked about that kind of life and what it would be like, but it always ended as a joke and never as something to look forward to. Until you really thought about it, hearing Hosea's story of him and his wife fed into your dream.

- Bring it up to Arthur one night, making sure he took it seriously, not knowing what to say, only he couldn't leave the gang just like that. Over time, you pushed the matter, and he always listened but never said anything.

- Being with the gang for a long time, you watched it change as Dutch came into more trouble. Finally, it hit a breaking point when Arthur went missing from the meeting with Colm O'Driscoll. The camp had to calm you down, but it didn't stop the tears every night, fighting your mind to just leave, but it turned to worry that if he'd come back, you needed to be there for him.

- After days of the gang searching, you finally spotted Arthur's house with him on top, thinking you had just gone crazy. Hearing his groans of pain, you ran to him, crying aloud, causing the camp to spring into action, with some having to hold you back so the rest could work.

- After an hour of working on him finally letting you see him, never leaving his side as you waited for him to wake. Hosea brought you something to eat every day, knowing what you had been going through.

Snapping from your exhausted state as a groan came from Arthur, watching as he stirred from his rest. Tears once again spilled from your eyes while grabbing his hand and placing it to your cheek. Waking fully, he whispered your name, running a hand through his hair earning a hum from him as he rested his eyes once again.

"I thought you were dead," you whispered, kissing his hand earning another hum. "Okay," he whispered weakly, making you look at him meeting his blue-green eyes. Taking a minute for you to understand, you nodded, "Tonight." You responded, getting only a weak nod back. Quickly getting up to then plant a kiss on his lips before preparing your leave.

Javier Escuella

- Being so loyal to Dutch, as soon as you'd bring that idea of life up, he'd tell you of the time he tried to find that kind of life, with it ending with Dutch saving him, in turn needing to repay Dutch with his life. A life for a life.

- Still, of course, you stayed with him, but it didn't stop you from trying. From mentioning small things, such as telling him to look at the homesteads as you passed them or talking to couples who owned their land, hearing the stories of home life making sure Javier was near you to hear.

- Wishing aloud to love him behind closed doors, but he brought up the suggestion of a hotel quickly you shot it down with wishes of loving him in your own home. Unknown to you, it wasn't till the end that he would change his mind.

- Seeing as he buddied up with Micah breaking your heart, seeing what Micah did to Dutch, there would be no way he would sink his claws into your Javier. Realizing it even more after hearing Arthur's words confirming your Javiers changed, solidifying your thoughts. Having to do the only thing that was left.

- Grabbing a bag, you started to stuff your things into it. Hearing footsteps come closer, you didn't look up, knowing who it was. When asking what you were doing, you told him you were leaving him. Shocked, he begged, but you gave it to him in the end, giving him an ultimatum. You or Dutch.

Pain washed over his face. He looked to the floor, hoping it would have the answer, but you continued packing. "Amor," he begged, but you kept your back to him as much as it pained you. "I can't do this, Javi," you say, tears stinging the brim of your eyes. "Tell me," he says, putting a hand on yours.

"All of this, you hate Micah. What changed?" You asked, making him look away, but you brought his face back softly with your hand. Cupping his face, "I know you see it. He's not well. I'm not going to stick around anymore, Javi," you say, turning to zip up your bag.

"It's your choice," you say before grabbing a few more things. "I can't," he says weakly. "Okay," saying your final words before walking to the horses, putting your things onto yours before hopping onto your horse.

Taking a last look at the camp, not caring who chose to look. Hearing as the horse next to you stirred, looking to see Javier hop on his with his belongings behind him. Smiling at each other, you turned away from camp, taking off quickly to start your new life.

Charles Smith

- Having been in the gang for a small amount of time, he had never shut down the idea, though never did he start to make plans on it. Figuring it was from his friendships with Arthur and John or him just settling in having run with him before the gang, you were of course thankful for them taking you both in, but shaking off the idea was never going to happen.

- Taking long rides on the days he got off, hugging his waist while resting your head on his back, talking about many things: camp gossip, your past travels, the future. Sometimes passing by a homestead watching as the people worked away at their land, imagining out loud how that would be, it would be better than always running.

- He loved you dearly; it pained him whenever leaving you to do a job with the gang, but you hated it more when he came to you from a watch stumbling on his tired feet to then crashing into your arms falling asleep before he could even mumble, "I love you.".

- Making his choice after the bank job that had gone wrong, having to bury Hosea and Lenny's bodies, the both of you talked about the decision ending with a kiss and the start of packing your things. Though quickly interrupted by the law, causing you to run once again, making you both stick around the gang a little longer.

- Knowing it put the both of you in more danger, he tried to make it quick by using the gang to help the tribe, only meeting them once by going with him, you understood. Finally, the day came telling only Arthur and John and those closest to you, getting hugs and wishes of luck to your new life.

Waking to the cooing of birds wrapped in the warmth of Charles's arms, hearing him snore softly, kissing his scared cheek, waking him from his slumber earning a smile. Looking at you with tired brown eyes, taking a moment to admire your well-rested faces.

Wiggling out of his arms with an objection as he tightened them, making you both laugh before you headed off to the kitchen in your homestead, but not without getting dressed first from the night before. Having been years since that day, leading to a new life, though the past caught up a year later, causing Charles to go with John just to make Dutch and Micah pay for all those years ago.

Of course, coming back to you with a bullet in the shoulder and a promise to never leave you again, from John's home, you both made it up to Canada, living out your dream of a homestead. Ending your reminisce on the past as Charles wraps his arms around you once more, kissing your neck softly while you readied the morning drinks.

Bill Williamson

- It had never been an idea to the both of you from all the years you ran with the gang until going into town. Seeing how a couple talked about their lives after getting that first taste of that kind of life, you never looked back.

- Not telling Bill at first, wanting him away from Dutch a bit before springing it upon him after one of your hotel nights away, he entertained your thoughts, though laughing at some parts until he realized you were serious.

- His first feeling was anger at how he could never do that to Dutch, but you argued that Dutch doesn't control your lives. Finally, he calmed down, telling you he looked up to Dutch. Knowing how he wanted the limelight that Arthur and John had, you convinced him that even if it was painful to say and hear, he would never be them. His obsession can't control him.

- Even though he listened with understanding, even agreeing, he told you the time wasn't right. Giving your understanding back to his reasoning, you stayed with him. But things didn't stay still for forever.

- The bank job had gone wrong with the law running you out of Shady Bell, feeling as if it was years before you got Bill back in your arms after hearing tales of him on Guarma. Having enough, you started to pack your things, causing Bill to freak. Hearing none of it, you gave him a choice. Hoping he would pick the right one.

Standing in front of your horse, holding your bag tightly, "I've hit the end, Bill; I-I can't. I can't stay up every night hoping you're alive; it's not fair to me or you." You choked through your words, causing a scene for the whole camp to see, but you didn't care; you were done.

Seeing his hesitant look back at Dutch, who watched on calmly, you had your answer. His continuous seek for approval from Dutch would never stop, and you weren't going to be around to watch it kill him or you.

Hosea Matthews

- Having left before he would hear the idea once again, not shooting it down immediately though ending your talk with how his story ended, right back where he started.

- As time went on, his coughs had gotten worse, as well as his attitude towards it, helping with his cough fits earned a hand wave and a choked-out "I'm fine." But you kept pushing, knowing if it was the end for him, it should be anywhere but running with the gang.

- Bringing it up more, he entertained it a bit more, but other reasons would always pop up after, trying to understand you let it go after every talk. As the gang settled into Shady Bell slowly, you noticed that he became even worse; he barely came to bed, but when he did stumble in, smelling of booze, giving you a slurred "I love you" before snoring away.

- Not waiting for his final say any longer, you slowly packed your things over the days, making sure both of your horses were ready to go in the night. Thankfully, you met a couple who knew of a cabin not too far away at a cheap price. Saving up quickly, you bought the cabin, leaving it to wait for you. Taking note of when the watch shifts change and when the camp dies down for the night.

- Finally, you made your move. As Hosea stumbled into being his familiar drunk self, you went into action, calling his horse over by the back door quietly loading on what little you had left. Then, waking Hosea leading him to the horse with false words, finally, you were ready with Hosea in a drunken sleep on your back, fleeing into the dark swamp.

Riding through the night, keeping Hosea on the horse, with luck, you made it through the swamp and into the forest on your way to the cabin. Not knowing how long this would last not even sure if this was a new life. "Just enough for you to rest," you whispered into the cold night air.

Making it to the cabin, using all your strength to get him in the cabin, laying him on the bed, tucking him. Going back out, taking your things from his and your horses, then letting them rest in the small stable for the next few days.

Waking into the morning still hearing Hosea's snores with his warm arms around you. Slowly, you get up, readying his medicine, hoping he'll understand your actions. Being all for him in the end.

John Marston

- Having entertained the idea only came up two times. The first was for one of Hosea's cons, having you and John play as a married couple that lived on a farm just for another couple who actually lived on a farm to come along to buy into Hosea's con.

- As years went on, seeing how the gang dwindled, thankful for not taking your John, but not without a scare and a promise to stay with you. Getting out of the snow, helping John to Horseshoe Overlook, fighting to keep him down, and resting. John made a joke about you being his spouse and having a little farm. That was the second time.

- John wasn't the only one with that joke; being protective over him, Hosea started to joke about how the con act ended long ago, but you were still acting the part.

- Finally, John was ready for jobs again, so you loosened your protection, though you weren't afraid to give it to Dutch if he came back with so much as a small scratch. Furthering that joke in the camp led you two to talk. John agreed to the possibility, but it was different in his mind. You saw it coming sooner than him.

- Sadly, it wasn't until the very end you could live out that idea. The gang fell apart, pushing you both towards Strawberry, but not without making a rule for yourself. Never to live that life again. It was easier said than done. John helped the framer, and you fled, leaving your John behind.

Reading the letter over again as the carriage hit every bump on the road, making your impatience worse. Finally stopping, not wanting to look out the window, needing to see him up close, you hurried out.

Standing there face-to-face with your John, having been gone for so many months, your eyes stinging as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. "It's over," he whispered into your ear, making the threatening tears spill, tightening your hold, not wanting to let him go again.

Josiah Trelawny

- Living that dream already in Saint Denis, but unbeknownst to you, Josiah had dealings with a gang. Hearing the name of the gang from officers around town yet not thinking anything of them. Not even questioning his absence at home as his "office work" makes him travel a lot.

- Loving the stories of his travels made you susceptible to listening for things, but never did you think you'd hear about your husband from an officer's mouth on the street. Then the next day, another questioned you on your doorstep, being very hostile and pushing past you just to find nothing, but before leaving, accusing you of dealing with the "Van Der Linde Gang.".

- Hearing nothing from your Josiah in the few passing days got you worried—maybe you didn't know the man you married. Though finally, you saw him as he crawled up the stairs of your Saint Denis home, the sight brought you to tears.

- The damage to him was heartbreaking. He groaned and hissed through his teeth as you cleaned up his bloody wounds, then bandaged them up. Saying nothing, you let the silence fall with his story quickly following, but you didn't let him finish.

- Saying the name of the gang, seeing how his face turned pale. Telling him of what transpired days before, hit you hard speaking of what you knew out loud to him. Starting with a sigh, he told you everything with a voice filled with shame.

"Stop," you said, interrupting his explanation, doing as you said, looking to you. Not being able to handle the sight of him knowing every cut or possible broken bone was because of his deals with the gang. You started to question whether the life you built was even real; was the love you got from him even real?

"Love," he pleaded, placing a hand on yours looking into the eyes you fell in love with so many times. Still, you held your ground. "No more J," you say, making him look down watching as he nodded. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his upper back and shoulders, hugging him as he sat in your home, where he belonged.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

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kissedloveletters · 2 months ago

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LOVE IS A GENTLE THING . ۫ ꣑ৎ . things they love about you.

(˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) warnings. fluff、angst、hurt/comfort、gn!reader、overthinking、insecurities、suggestive if you squint on wukongs、mild ooc!wukong、ao lie is a bit short、established relationship、fell-hard boys ໒ ᩧ꒱characters. macaque, aolie, nezha, wukong. 1.2k wc

MACAQUE loves your loyalty.

now, Macaque genuinely loves every quality of you. There is no words nor anything to express how eternally grateful he is for you, how you gave him a try, giving the spark in his eyes back. Without a doubt his feelings run deep.

to be precise, if he has to be specific about one; LOYALTY is the first things on his mind.

Because of his rough history and past, Macaque has developed many barriers mentally. He faced a betrayal from a certain someone that still left a scar on him, It would be an understatement to say he does have trust issues and even to say he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, having something so… vulnerable, with someone.

That was before he met you, at least. he had years to build those walls up only for you to bypass them, and he allows it. he allows it.

He enjoyed it even, he felt so free and feather-light, the overthinking and doubtful thoughts all vanished. Because he trusts you. The unwavering loyalty you are giving him brings him a tingly feeling in his stomach, adoration.

The disloyalty and betrayals from the past left his heart in a racing conflict. Your determination of your character to assure him that you’ll never leave or choose anyone over him, and it never faltering brings him to believe he thinks he’s dreaming. That you’re dreamy.

at first, it took awhile to have him open to you, if he catches himself doing it, he honestly feels so heavy in his chest he would probably do anything to just get away from you before he thinks he’ll get more hurt than he already is. he has a feeling to just, cry. he’s just so tired.

It’s not often he would usually admit this, or ever, but there’s a glint in his eyes (if you look close enough) and blush clustered on his cheeks when you voice being faithful with him; even in small moments.

you being communicative is a plus too, he really needs communication, even if he’s shit at it himself. The relationship would really cease if you both are bad at communicating so.

by thus, you’re a really significant person in his life. he wouldn’t dare have anyone or anything take you away from him, and you reciprocated this too.

AO LIE loves your patience and energy

Ao lie is overly clumsy with things, so if your PATIENT with him, he’s relieved honestly.

not canon but i imagine him having somewhat of a harsh and bitter past so he gets pressured a lot. so, you being patient with him gets a weight lift off his chest basically.

also you being ENERGETIC kinda gives him a boost and like encouragement, you know? and then gets all motivated with you which you think is cute

also you both are literally that one meme “HE SAID NO PICKLES!” and he’s all like melting himself on the chair beside you looking down in humiliation

he gets flustered easily when around you, because he gets scared that he’s gonna embarrass himself in front of you ( Despite him already doing that in multiple occasions. ) and you really don’t care if he falls over in front of you or maybe you laugh at him idk

NEZHA loves your kindness

either you’re kind to him or others, even in small or major situations; he admires it, he admires you. something simple as that can make him have that fuzzy feeling. the way you gently tend his wounds while sweetly saying praises for his work and efforts or softly scolding him for being more careless of his safety, putting his duty above his safety.

it’s honestly the simple thing such as KINDNESS can bring nezha to be lovesick. actions or words he’s astonished how genuinely kind someone can be.

whether you can fight for yourself or not, he has a strong vow to protect you. he knows how cruel the world and how twisted people can really be, he has a fear that they’ll target you somehow.

he developed a protective nature, he’s not possessive per say, he just wants you protected. not extremely protective either, he knows limits and when to step in.

though if you can fight for yourself, surely, he lets his guard down only a little. he doesn’t want you to think he doesn’t think you can defend yourself or you’re weak.

is a little unsettled if you’re friends with wukong, it’s obvious he isn’t sure what to feel about the guy. wukong betrayed nezha before, and is cautious if he’ll do the same to you. if you’d reassure him; he’ll feel better and mentally slaps himself.

(wukong defiantly noticed and mocks nezha about this)

but he truly treasures you and your kind soul, seeing how strong-hearted you are made him impossibly more in-love with you. the little gestures you do on autopilot that others wouldn’t consider doing, or the kind words you speak thats soft-spoken and feel like they run deeper than anything.

WUKONG loves your matching energy and empathy

theres obviously a majority of people who get annoyed and agitated at wukong, he’s slightly off-put when you MATCH HIS ENERGY or surprised even, but that goes a second it comes.

before you two were even together, he may not act or look like it but he still has his guard high, despite for his attitude he keeps a lot of people at arm length. wukong seeing you match his energy and even having that same mischief in your eyes too get you both along well.

most weren’t even surprised at the outcome with your relationship, at-most it’s certainly expected to happen. maybe some even thought you were together before. even so, you two were like two peas in a pod, a match made in heaven.

you two were certainly a power couple, much to some people’s dismay and unimpressed-ness. you both were practically inseparable.

I expect you to be strong in some way, if you are, wukong lives for seeing you fight; it makes him feel a type of way, you can decipher what that would mean.

he feels blessed honestly, there’s a small chance of you not catching up with him in a relationship or getting tired or bored of him, which he’s secretly insecure of and wouldn’t admit it, soberly.

if your attentive, you catch on sooner or later about this and he hates it. wukong usually runs away from his problems than face them and if he crumbles too much in front of you, he feels like he’ll make a rash decision and he’ll make you leave like others have also.

there’s only so little people that can make out wukong and that side of him, you can may or may not EMPATHIZE with him. assuring him, that you will not leave him and no matter how tempting to leave or difficult he gets, that promise will always linger within you both.

wukong makes many mistakes, but he sure as hell wouldn’t make one that would loose you, maybe you’ve seen too much of him, but you have empathy. empathy for wukong is something he never really felt before, being understood despite his history and action, how easily you decipher because you emphasize with him. it warms him like no other fire that would keep him warm, how how he cherishes the feeling. how his heavy heart always having conflicts finally feel calm, calm even for a moment of being understood.

#♥︎ ⠀ ꢶ ⠀ ˖ ྇ 𝓁ove 𝓁etter 𝒸entral ໒ ᩧ꒱#⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀#lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid nezha #monkie kid x reader #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #wukong x reader #wukong x y/n #nezha x reader #lmk nezha x reader #macaque x reader #lmk macaque x reader #six eared macaque x reader #ao lie x reader #lmk ao lie x reader #THE DIVIDER IS SO UGLY IGNORE IT PLEADE

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