#Grant ward x female!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

merakiui · 11 months ago

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タコの花嫁。

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.

If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.

And your ancestors intended to claim it.

Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.

“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”

“You ever go and spy one up close?”

“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”

“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”

“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”

Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”

Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.

On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.

It was different in the sea.

Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.

On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.

“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”

No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.

A day of life, not death.

It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.

Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.

So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.

“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea.

“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”

“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”

“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”

“Fin got it on his first try.”

“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”

Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”

“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”

“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”

“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.

And then—

Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”

The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.

It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.

“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.

Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.

“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”

“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.

“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“We didn’t, right?”

“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”

“Father’s gonna kill us.”

“If not us, the monsters.”

Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.

Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.

“Your Majesty.”

The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.

“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”

Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.

“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”

She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”

Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”

Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”

“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”

Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”

“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”

“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”

You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”

“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”

“Floyd.”

At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.

“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”

“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.

Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.

“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”

“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”

“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”

The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”

“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”

She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”

To that, no one could offer a smart reply.

“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”

“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”

“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.

Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”

“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”

“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”

Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”

“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”

“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.

“Let the grown-ups talk.”

Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”

Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”

Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.

You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.

“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”

Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.

“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”

Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”

“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”

Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”

Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”

It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.

Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?

“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”

Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”

Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”

“Because you tried to kill her.”

“Because she was in our territory!”

Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”

“He’s right, Floyd.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”

Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.

Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.

“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”

The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”

You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”

“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”

You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”

“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.

“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”

His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.

You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.

“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”

But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.

Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.

It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.

Floyd was right. You are a brat.

And yet he can’t hate you.

On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.

Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.

“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”

He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.

“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.

More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.

Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.

“Happy birthday…”

“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”

Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.

“I want to start over.”

“Start over?”

“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”

You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.

“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”

Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”

You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”

I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.

“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”

“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”

“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”

“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”

“I’m not!”

You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.

“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.

“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”

“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”

With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.

“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.

Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.

He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.

Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.

Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.

This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.

Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.

“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”

By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.

The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.

It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.

You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.

You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…

Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?

Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.

Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.

You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.

Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?

And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.

“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”

Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”

“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”

Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”

“What’d Azul ever do to you?”

You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.

“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”

“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”

“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”

You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.

This is it. You’re dead.

…or not.

The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.

“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”

“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”

Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”

You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.

It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.

Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”

You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.

When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.

The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.

It’s a nightmare lived in real time.

Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.

Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?

Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.

“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”

“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”

“That was before the union.”

“I’m not letting it go.”

“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”

You don’t believe him.

“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”

You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”

“Legally, you are.”

“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”

Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”

“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”

Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.

“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”

A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.

“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”

“I love you.”

You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.

“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”

“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”

“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”

“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”

It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.

“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”

“N-No… Please stop. Please.”

“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”

Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.

The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.

“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”

Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”

Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”

A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.

“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”

You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.

Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”

“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”

“What a silly demand.”

He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”

“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”

You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.

He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.

You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.

“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.”

But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.

In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.

“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”

Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”

Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.

The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.

“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”

Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”

Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.

He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.

You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”

“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”

He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.

“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”

Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.

“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.

It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: breeding #tw: oviposition

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nadvs · 1 month ago

Text

the act of unravelling (part five) (end)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Rafe knocks again. And again. And again.

Your front door rattles in its frame, his knuckles still sore from the punches he threw at the bonfire last night.

He sat in the holding cell after being questioned by Brading, ruminating over everything he’ll say to you when he sees you. He needs to tell you that you’re right; the detective is onto you both.

Brading brought up your name, asking about Porter, asking what Rafe had over you that would make you want to protect him.

He’s confident you’re both guilty, but he doesn’t have the evidence to prove it. He’d booked him on a drug charge, telling him they’d searched his bedroom and found enough coke to arrest him for more than just possession.

His questions had nothing to do with that.

He demanded Rafe tell him about Porter, trying to provoke him into a confession. As he sat in the small, dingy interrogation room, your words echoed in his head. I don’t think we should talk to him without a lawyer.

So, he didn’t. Brading gave up and threw him back into his cell. Rafe would’ve lost his temper if he didn’t have you to protect.

The lawyer came in with Ward early this morning. After Rafe told him about the arrest, the lawyer explained that Brading had abused his power by not providing Rafe with his right to make a phone call.

Rafe couldn’t make eye contact with his father as he was escorted into a courtroom for the bail hearing an hour later. The lawyer was well worth the money Rafe is sure his father is paying him. He was given a court date and granted bail, which Ward covered.

“I’m sorry I got mixed up in this, okay?” Rafe had muttered to his father in the car on their way home. “I’ll get clean. I’ll stop selling.”

“You should know better,” Ward sighed. “The cops showing up to our house like that… what are you thinking?”

“I’m not,” he said.

“And what was that… about that missing kid? You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

His own father jumping to the worst conclusion, even though it’s true, pierced the wound Rafe has held in his heart since childhood. He’s nothing but a disappointment. A stain on the family name.

Now, he’s at your front door, and he’s been knocking for what feels like five straight minutes. Nobody’s answering. The house looks empty. The car is gone.

He checks his phone again to see it’s almost two in the afternoon. All his texts and calls to you have gone undelivered.

He can’t even entertain the thought that you’re doing it on purpose; he knows you’re loyal to him. He never thought he’d trust somebody the way he trusts you, but he does, and he would never expect you to turn on him.

He needs to find you.

He makes his way to the country club, figuring you must be at work. When he rushes to the restaurant, tapping the bartop, he impatiently asks where you are.

The bartender looks at Rafe with a look he can’t quite read.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says. It’s the first time he used that title, but it feels right for what he has with you. “Is she working today or not?”

“Oh… I…” The bartender uneasily looks around the room. “I shouldn’t be the one to... I don’t…”

“What?” Rafe snaps.

“Our boss told us this morning,” he responds, his expression pained. He leans closer, hesitating as he says, “She was in a car accident and she didn’t make it. I’m sorry, man. I wish I wasn’t the one to tell you.”

Rafe straightens, his body flooding with a sharp, harrowing chill.

“You…” He shakes his head. “You got something wrong. You don’t– you’re confused.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know her that well, but…” The bartender nervously shrugs. “Everyone liked her.”

Liked her. Liked. You’re not in the past tense. You’re here. You’re somewhere around here. The ringing in his ears grows louder. The man only shakes his head, frowning in sympathy.

“You’re confused,” Rafe repeats. “What did– who told you that?”

“My boss,” he tells him again.

Rafe erratically rushes out of the building, starting his car even though he doesn’t know where to go, and looks ahead with a blank stare as his chest heaves.

“No,” he mutters to himself, his voice strained. “No, this is– he’s fucking wrong. This is…”

There’s no way this is real.

He pulls his phone out to call you. Again, it doesn’t even ring. His phone beeps with the dropped call notification. He tries again. Nothing.

His limbs are shaking, eyes burning with tears. A mistake. It’s a mistake. He just needs to find another way to contact you.

He opens a social media app to message you there. Before he can type in the search bar, a smiling photo of you is at the top of his feed.

It’s a news article. Local woman dead after late night crash. The post caption reads: This is crazy. She was so young :( Rest in peace.

He taps to read the comments, reading worthless prayers and canned condolences as he keeps scrolling, every roll of his thumb making him sicker.

He finds the article. Saliva coats his tongue and he’s sure he’s about to throw up as he reads it.

The vehicle was traveling southbound… Ran off the roadway… Pronounced deceased on scene.

No. You were just with him last night, a living, breathing, beautiful girl telling him you care about him, your touch warm and soft and real.

Deceased. That cold, final word doesn’t describe you. It can’t.

He barely makes it in time to open his door and vomit on the concrete. When he slams his hands over his steering wheel, he does it until his palms throb in pain. He cries until his throat burns.

No. This can’t be real.

╰┈➤ three weeks later

The town you live in now is in a land-locked state with an even smaller population than Kildare. The agent in charge of your case gave you and your parents everything you needed to assume your new lives.

Your old one ended on a road back home, covered up with a story that you’d lost control of your friend’s car and died on impact.

You’re sitting in the therapist’s office, picking at a loose string on your shirt. The protection program placed you with a clinical psychologist who specializes in trauma recovery, but you worry you’ll never be able to rid yourself of the paralyzing pain that has sept into your heart.

You come here once a week. You’re supposed to be moving on, setting roots here, accepting your new identity.

But you haven’t and you can’t. You’re not allowed to contact anyone, but every day, more and more, you yearn to find a way to tell the people you love that you’re okay, to put them out of their grief and misery.

You wouldn’t dare take the risk, but you’re constantly checking on what you left on the island, searching news sites and social media for anything you can find through a faceless account.

Rafe’s arrest record is public. Sale and distribution of an illegal substance. You know now that Brading arrested him for coke that night. You’re sure he did it just to get Rafe in custody to be able to intimidate him into talking about Porter.

You know nothing else about him. He hasn’t posted anything since you left. His name only comes up on the law enforcement website, offering no further information on a trial or a sentencing.

When you look up your friends, seeing the photos and messages they posted in memoriam of you never gets easier. You left JJ and Pope and John B with the shock of seeing you in Rafe’s arms, then you left in JJ’s car, unknowingly racing towards your faked death.

The investigation on Porter has hit a dead end. The last article came out a week ago titled: Family seeks closure as disappearance of Porter Arnoult remains a mystery.

And the man who shot Brading, who made a full recovery, is still at large, meaning you’re still in danger.

“Come on in,” your therapist says gently, peeking out her office door.

You settle in the worn seat. You’ve told this woman everything but for the truth about the night that was the catalyst to the mess your life has become.

You promised Rafe you’d keep the secret to the grave. You meant it.

·········

The heaviest, sharpest ache sits in Rafe’s chest as he stands at your final resting place, as he reads your name in stone, a hyphen between two years that are much too close to each other.

There was no funeral. Word had gotten around that your parents were too distraught and left town shortly after the accident.

His head is pounding with his hangover, his body weak from the booze and coke he’s been pumping into it.

Stay out of trouble. That’s what his lawyer told him. But his court date is in a couple of days and he’s done everything but. This is the first time he’s come to your grave and he feels like a piece of shit for waiting so long, but he couldn’t do it.

He never deserved you. A piece of him knew, gnawed at him, that you’d realize he didn’t measure up. But he was ready to try, for once in his life, to be better.

And then, you were taken from him. And the idea of paying his respect to a girl who’s nothing but a memory now is not for your benefit. It’s for the grieving, and while he’s not worthy of that relief, he came to the cemetery in case he won’t get the chance again for a long time.

He’ll likely be going to prison soon. His lawyer said the best case scenario is a reduced sentence and a heavy fine.

Rafe’s numb to it. It’s why he’s been getting fucked up at parties, telling anyone who asks about you or him to shut up because he knows they don’t care. All he does is get wasted and open his wallet only to buy more shit to dull the pain.

You were a light in the clouds that always consumed him, and because you’d followed him after he’d gotten arrested, you died.

He’ll never forgive himself for the fact that caring for him is what killed you.

╰┈➤ one week later

It’s Rafe’s last night of freedom.

He was sentenced to 14 months. His life is fucked. All because he was an idiot who decided to sell coke.

Brading sat in the courtroom as the arresting officer, looking bitter, likely because his plan to get Rafe to crack about Porter’s case never worked.

His lawyer told him it was a win to get such a short sentence, as if living behind bars can ever be considered some sort of victory. He’s being locked up tomorrow, a nasty blotch on his record, a traumatic experience waiting for him.

He’s at a party on Figure Eight, dipped into a numbing high on a couch. Coke and booze coarse through his veins. He’s subconsciously been hoping that it’d kill him before he has to go to prison.

It’s been a month since you died. The hole in his chest only digs itself deeper, burying him alive. He ignores the people who pretend to care about him, remembering how they’d acted when rumors spread about him doing something to Porter.

He knows this will follow him forever, being suspected for Porter’s disappearance, being connected to you, the innocent girl who got involved with him then tragically passed away.

He doesn’t care what people think. He thought he was lethargic before. That was nothing.

He gets lost in the high, hearing the people and the music around him, catching flashes of phones in the crowd as people celebrate life while he wishes his would just end.

“What were you doing with her?”

Rafe’s vision blurs and refocuses until he can see who’s standing over him in the crowded living room. It’s Pope, his nostrils flared in anger.

JJ and John B stand close behind, disgusted looks on their faces.

“Fuck off,” Rafe slurs.

“What were you doing with her?” JJ shouts louder. A few heads turn at the noise.

Rafe’s jaw tenses in anger. His body is heavy, but he pushes himself off the couch, staring at your friends, knowing they have no fucking clue how badly he’s been suffering without you.

“She didn’t want to tell you,” Rafe mutters, “because she knew you assholes would make her feel bad about it.”

“She’s… she’s fucking dead because of you,” JJ says, his voice laced with tears. “She was on the road because of you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Rafe yells. He swore on his life that you’d always be safe with him. He deserves to die.

He has nothing to lose. He shoves JJ down onto the floor, landing a single punch before he’s pulled back and struck in the jaw with a hard fist.

Rafe spits out blood, his neck at the crook of the couch, knowing no amount of physical pain could come close to matching how bad his heart hurts.

·········

When you see Rafe in the background of a Kook’s social media story, your breath hitches. He’s sprawled out on a couch, head tipped back, lips parted and eyes rolling.

You know it’s stupid. You know you’re putting yourself in danger by doing it. You’re not supposed to contact a soul from your past life.

But he looks near death in the video.

You go to Rafe’s account and start to type with trembling fingers. You’re using the burner account you made, a fake name with no photo, but you hope reminding him of something only you two would remember is enough.

It’s me. The girl you always gave a $50 to at the club. I’m okay. I had to go into hiding. I had no choice. Please take care of yourself and don’t tell anyone about me. I miss you.

You don’t see his reply until you wake up the next day. What kind of sick joke is this?

It’s not a joke, you respond. I used to tell you all the time not to call me a Pogue, remember? I know this is confusing. I wish it wasn’t like this. I’m sorry.

He doesn’t respond. You don’t blame him. He thinks it’s a twisted prank. But even though it was a stupid risk to take, you’re glad you tried. You just wish it worked.

A day later, you unsend your messages and delete your account just in case.

╰┈➤ sixteen months later

“It’s completely your choice,” the program agent continues, sitting in the living room of the home you still don’t consider home. “We set you and your family up for permanent placement, but the man you saw was captured with his associates and died in a shoot-out. We’re confident you’re no longer in danger. You can choose to stay here, or go back.”

You look at your parents with wide eyes, in utter disbelief. It’s been over a year. You all have jobs and friends and a foundation now, even though it’s built on lies.

But you’ve been aching to go home since the day you moved here. And you’re going back to the island, with or without your parents.

╰┈➤ three days later

The flight was painfully long. You came alone. Your parents didn’t feel the need to go back in time and come here. They don’t have the ties you do to home.

The fact that they could watch you leave was confirmation that all you shared with them was a last name. You always felt alone around them. You never had their love. Not really. It’s why you clung to your friends.

Kildare’s salty breeze is the same. Even the way the sun hits here feels unique. You keep the window of your rental car down as you drive through familiar streets.

You’d considered contacting your friends before finding them, but what happened with Rafe would likely happen with them. They’d think it was a cruel prank. They wouldn’t believe you.

It’s a sunny afternoon. You knock on JJ’s door. Your heart is in your throat. You’ve been discreetly keeping up with what your friends publicly post. It seems life here never changes much.

You crave the familiarity. The peace.

The door swings open. JJ stares at you like he’s seen a ghost. You expected as much.

“Hi,” your voice is thin, what you rehearsed coming out rushed. “I witnessed a crime and I was put into protection. They had to fake my death and put me somewhere safe. But I’m not in danger anymore. And they let me come back.”

He doesn’t have the words. You don’t blame him. He pulls you in and this is what you’ve been missing so agonizingly – feeling wanted.

He invites the guys over and after a tearful reunion and a long catch-up, you finally ask them about Rafe, terrified you’ll hear the worst, even though you’ve been keeping up with local news.

“He just got outta jail,” JJ says.

“For what?” you ask, worried he took the fall for what you did to Porter.

“Selling coke,” he says. “I think he got like, a year. I’m pretty sure his dad paid to get it scrubbed from the internet.”

“He kind of went crazy after you…” Pope trails off. “Crazier than usual. But since he got out, he’s not bothering us. He’s just quiet. He’s different now.”

You nod, desperate to go see him.

“What happened that night?” JJ asks. “Were you and him… like, a thing?”

“Yeah,” you say. “He’s… He wasn’t who we always thought he was. I was surprised, too. It happened really fast. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” JJ says.

You give him a grateful smile, knowing it won’t take long at all to get used to this again, to being your old self with your old friends. You left, but your heart stayed here.

·········

Rafe’s sister is visibly in shock to see you when you show up at the Camerons’ doorstep later that afternoon. You tell her what happened, sure the gossip will spread before you even step foot off the property, and ask her where Rafe is.

She tells you he went out on the family’s boat. You thank her and head over to the marina.

·········

Rafe spent every day in prison thinking about those messages he got the night before he was put behind bars. The person behind the account knew things only you would.

It might have been a twisted joke or someone’s way of keeping him above water while he wished he could drown.

But nobody would care enough about him to do that. Only you.

He never saw a response after he replied, and fourteen months later, when he got his phone back, the messages and the account were gone.

It’s been nearly a year and a half since you left. Hope is a ridiculous thing. He doesn’t even consider it your death anymore. You left.

The only thing that kept him going through his monotonous, soul-draining time in prison was the nearly invisible shred of hope that it really was you who sent him those messages.

He wishes he could remember the account name. It was a random assortment of letters and numbers. Sometimes, he’s convinced he dreamed it, like his survival instinct kicked in and made him hallucinate the possibility that you didn’t actually die.

He gazes out at the deep blue water, white caps tumbling over the waves as the boat bobs with the tides.

After you, he missed the sea most.

You remember where his boat was parked. Every detail of that night is burned into your mind. Vowing to keep the secret in the beach house, dragging the body over the dock, planning your alibis on his boat.

There haven’t been any developments in the case. Porter’s body is still out there somewhere, your secret lying with him.

Your heart stops when you spot Rafe’s back as he pulls a rope on his parked boat. His hair is buzzed now, his back broader and his arms larger than you remember. You close the distance, almost falling off the dock when you approach his boat because you’re that awestruck.

You’ve dreamt of this moment. You weren’t sure it’d ever come.

He turns, wrapping the rope around the cleat of the boat, squinting under the sun. He breathes a quiet grunt as he tightens the rope, then stands and surveys it.

Something catches the corner of his eye. He looks up. And pure relief washes over his handsome face.

Rafe rushes towards you like you might disappear if he doesn’t reach you fast enough. He jumps off the edge and nearly knocks the wind out of you when he surrounds you in his heavy arms, squeezing you.

Tears prick your eyes, and suddenly, you’re sobbing. From disbelief. From relief. From love.

“I knew it,” he whispers shakily, nuzzled into your neck. “I knew it. I knew it. Fuck.”

Your eyes are shut as he holds you, both of you suspended, bobbing boats creaking around you, gulls crying in the sky.

He finds the strength to pull back, meeting your eyes. Those eyes. They never left his mind. He knew you were out there and he wondered what they were seeing every single day.

You gaze up at him, vision blurred from your tears. Safety. That’s what he feels like to you. Like nothing can hurt you.

“I missed you,” you say in a whisper, but the words can’t possibly represent how painful life has been, how much you’ve been worrying about him.

“Me, too,” he says, cupping your cheek like you might break, like you’re a dream that might slip away. “I can’t believe…”

You nod. You can’t believe much of what’s happening, either.

·········

You’re in Rafe’s arms until the sun goes down, sitting in the hull of his parked boat, not wanting to part for even a second to allow him to drive out into the water. You don’t need to go anywhere. You want to be rooted with him.

You sat here once before, in a past life of a past life, conspiring and coming up with a story to cover up the murder.

“I never forgot what you did when I got arrested,” Rafe says into your ear, your back flush against his chest, the sun an orange sliver on the horizon. “Yelling at that asshole not to hurt me.”

“It was horrible seeing him do that to you,” you murmur, remembering how hard Brading had pushed him against the car to handcuff him. “He eventually gave up, huh? I kept checking the news, but the case went cold?”

“Yeah. He left town,” Rafe tells you. “He had no evidence. We got rid of it all.”

You nod with a long sigh.

“How was it?” you ask.

You don’t have to say it. He knows you’re asking about prison.

“Knowing you were okay kept me through it,” he admits. You turn to meet his pained blue eyes.

“It’s all behind us now,” you say.

He presses his lips against yours, warm and tender and soft, dismissing the cold that’d been sitting in your soul since you were forced to leave.

Epilogue

You’ll always feel the void of the year and a half that you were gone deep in your heart. But as time goes by, it gets smaller and smaller.

You’d planned to stay with one of your friends while you found your footing to get your own place, but Rafe insisted he buy you a condo, saying it’d be the best use of his money.

He hadn’t expected to still have access to his family’s bank account, but his father seemed to see a difference in him after prison.

You see a change in him, too. You mention it to him sometimes, how his temper has completely faded away.

“Still like me, though?” he once asked, half-joking.

“I love you,” you told him. It was the first time you said the word and his heart felt like it was going to burst. He kissed you hard and told you he loved over and over.

Rafe comes over all the time, preparing meals together, making up for lost time.

One night, as he dozes off next to you in your bed, you realize you still don’t regret your crime and if you don’t by now, you never will.

Sometimes you wonder if you should be remorseful for taking a life. But that man was evil and the world is a better place without him. People die, but the past doesn’t, and while you may carry it with you forever, you wouldn’t take it back.

Your eyes slowly trail over Rafe’s face in the dim light, your heart pounding as you think about how you got here, two broken people who found each other on a terrifying night.

It’s all still so crystal clear in your mind. The blood on his face the night it happened. The way he held you when you told him what your real motive was. The tears in his eyes when he reunited with you.

You pull a blanket over him. He’s everything to you now. And like your love, your secret remains between you two, binding you together forever.

(the end)

#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

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winterzxsoldierz · 2 months ago

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Home Alone In The Avenger's Tower

Reader x Hydra agents

Authors Note: I was watching Home Alone earlier and wanted to make a one shot inspired off of it, Marvel style, in this you are Loki's kid, yes i said it, and the Avengers are not gonna be around for this one sadly, but hydra will and that meant fun for you, don't be too sad the avengers will come at the end. Warnings: Pranks, a lot of sadistic pranks, and blood, language Steve wouldn't approve of. Side note:I wanted to bring Christmas a bit early and add some glorious purpose to it. Reader is Female and around 17 & 18

The day started out normal, you waking up and doing anything a relatively normal person would do, brushing teeth and getting yourself together, the team had to go on a emergency mission on Christmas Eve, which had you a little bummed because you were actually starting to like them, your father said they weren't that bad and you agree.

Walking into the kitchen, you stop and smirk, and magically you conjure a full plate of breakfast out onto the table in front of you "Ha, beat that Sam." you murmur to yourself smugly. you take a seat down and begin to eat breakfast, you turn on the tv as well, watching the Grinch, Bucky's twin you called him. After breakfast you wander around the tower snooping around Tony's lab, touching things you have no business touching, you then find Tony's music playlist and grin, that's when you find it, the perfect song to blast around now that you're alone, Master Of Puppets by Metallica, and you ask his A.I F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn it on the common room loud speakers, and around the tower, you sing and dance without a care in the world, hell you even conjure your own electric guitar.

(Sun down) Hours had passed since the sun was up and there you sat on the couch with a tub of ice cream in your lap, with a spoon bigger than your mouth in your hands, "Merry Christmas you filthy animal." you imitate Kevin in the movie as you watch him quote the guy he's watching on his tv. (Meanwhile) Brock Rumlow creeps up the steps of the Avenger's level of the tower, and signals his buddy Grant Ward, to follow him, Rumlow felt a bit smug knowing that the Avengers were gone for the day and probably the night as well, he had it all figured out and Alexander Pierce would definitely be proud when he comes back with juicy information...But little did he know he was in for a rude awakening. A sudden crash awakens you from your power snooze and you look around noting the quiet, the television had cut off itself and the common room was only brightened by the Christmas lights and tree, your eyes narrow in suspension since you knew the team weren't home yet, and it definitely wasn't Peter because he would have texted you, you hear voices, whisper shouting to each other, it was definitely two men, none of who voices you knew, so activating your invisibility you began to your search.

Upon reaching Tony's lab next to the file room you see them, and your eyes widen, now you had two options call for help or handle things yourself, and you thought what the hell, 'I'm a god, i don't need it.'

Purposely you make yourself visible again and play scared child, both of the agents come up to you but you run and of course there's a little evil smirk on your lips. "Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y lock any source of exits in the tower for anyone who isn't me or the Avengers." you yell. and you slip into your fathers room.

(POV:Hydra's)

"What the fuck? Brock you said the place was empty! Grant exclaimed in annoyance, Brock shrugs and glares "How was i supposed to know there'd be a Teenager here?" Brock argues trying to defends himself, Grant rolls his eyes "For you to be the leader of the strike team you sure act like an obnoxious dick on a stick." Grant glowers. "Let's just find the girl." Brock grumbles and walks off "Besides, what can one girl do to us?" Brock yells cockily.

Running into the kitchen you go into the pantry and pull out some popcorn, you rip open the bag and lay out some kernels on the ground, you then grab a bottle of olive oil and pour it down on the ground of the kitchen and common room entrance, but you pour enough where it'll lead them into a large pool of green paint you conjured into the common room area. plan one was already in motion.

"Hey Brock i think i found- oh shit." Grant yelps as he trips forward on the kernels only to slip quicker on the oil, "Uh-oh" the words leave him as he tips over into the pool of green paint with a wet splash. All you do is smirk in the back ground and teleport to where Rumlow is heading.

"Where is that little bitch?" Brock growls and makes his way down the hall towards the file room and instead of meeting the room he falls, through a portal and he falls for about 30 minutes before you eventually let him fall into the paint pool next to his buddy.

Both Brock and Grant look at each other in confusion, before both of them get out the pool, but you have other plans for them. Teleporting the men into the training room, you have them held up against Clint arrow dart board and you speak into the intercom completely invisible to the men you speak "Ladies and Gentlemen, today we have two continents up on stage today to play a game of human darts, our weapon of choice, daggers!" you say excitedly, "But firstly let's give a boo for our gentlemen up on stage for being pussy's for making a move when my family aren't home. BOOO." you murmur dryly and in a wicked tone you speak. "Let's began."

With you still invisible you step into the room, handful of Bucky's daggers in hand, you watch in amusement as the men look around clearly worried about if you're around or not, but who cares.

You start by flipping the dagger in your hand and the swish the dagger fly's right by Grant's arm and plunges right into the board next to him, and then you throw another making a yelp leave him as it lands right by his head, you laugh. Then you turn to Brock, a look of distaste on your face, this guy creeped you out more than you like to admit, you throw not one but two daggers at him, one landing on each side of his arm almost hitting him but not quite. "I call this one, no kids in his sack." You quip and throw a dagger right between his legs, so close but not hitting him. but you laugh at his screams.

Three hours. it's been three hours, since Brock and Grant have been victims of your games, they can't find you anywhere but you have traps waiting for them every corner, Brock was covered in chocolate sauce and thumbtacks and Grant was still green from earlier but had burned shoes from stepping on metal steps you some how have heated up. Again the intercoms start up this time it plays Another one bites the dust by Queen, and the lights flicker off and on and both men walk on a trip wire and are immediately slapped with pans in the face and the fall back into yet another portal and falls into a pool full of flour, they don't get a chance before honey is falling down on them, but of course it wouldn't be funny without your laughter.

Once again, Brock Rumlow and Grant Ward split up, big mistake.

Brock walks down the hallway, his steps a bit squeaky from the mess that is him, he lost all his weapons, he leans up against the wall, and peaks around the corner seeing a round barstool with a metal bucket on it that says "Weapons." he walks towards it with fast big strides and reaches his hand in and hears a click his eyes widens and then Boom he's blown back into a wall rendering him unconscious and a bit bloody "Merry Christmas you filthy animal." You quote, with a satisfied smirk on your lips as the clock it's 12 on the dot. You follow Grant, you're invisible again, and watching him, the feeling he gets is uneasiness and he looks around, yet he keeps going forward, he walks into a room that looks Christmas gift wrapped, it's an empty circle looking room, the door shuts behind him immediately and with an illusion spell, you make him see spiders, that look like reindeer, and they start to chase him, he runs but runs into the glass walls repeatedly until you decided you were done with them, so you teleport in there and punch him in the face knocking him out. You drag Brock's unconscious form into the room with Grant, and tie their hands together with Christmas lights and then you add a Christmas bow on each of their heads. the room that the two men are in is Loki's old cell, you leave the cell locking it up and you put gift wrapping paper over the glass to keep any one from seeing in or out, you add a large golden bow on the door and a note that reads "To:Avengers, From:Y/N"

You cleaned the entire tower up with your powers and went to bed like nothing happened but only you'll know the real secret.

(Avengers Pov)

Everyone is tense and tired, the mission was a trap and bust but everyone is alive, and that's all that mattered, the jet lands on the helipad and the team gets off.

Upon getting into the tower the place smells of fresh chocolate and mint, they are first met with cookies and hot chocolate on the table in the common room, and they see the stockings filled with wrapped gifts, the anger and tension in the seems to leave as they see this and know your the cause, and then that's when they hear it, Jingle bell rock playing from a distance, they follow it until they reach the gift wrapped cell, each of them has their own look of confusion, before Tony steps forward and reads the card. "I'm assuming that the mission you went on was a trap, i hope you like the snacks and presents but i think you'll like this one more, i got em. from. Y/N Laufeyson-"

The rest of the team steps forward and starts to tear down the paper and there the two men lay fully conscious and tied up in a jolly way and all messed up. The team looks at each other before bursting out in laughter. "Well i'll be damned." Tony snickers "That's my darling little angel." Loki smirks, a proud look in his eyes. (The End)

Happy soon Thanksgiving and early Christmas, thanks for reading❤️💚

#marvel #bucky barnes x reader #the avengers #the avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #bucky x reader #tony stark #loki laufeyson #loki's children #hail hydra #marvel cinematic universe #disney marvel #hydra marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #brock rumlow

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daydreaming-nerd · 7 months ago

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Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 15

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: I'm sorry I haven't been writing a bunch lately. I've been going through a pretty big transitional period in my life and it has my mental health in the absolute shitter. Please be patient I promise I'm writing whenever I can. Love you all I hope you enjoy the second-to-last chapter of this series.

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: jealous cassian, angst but fluffy at the end

Word Count: 6,517

It’s been three weeks since we went to Hybern and I hadn’t left the cell.

The first time I woke up Rhys had to come into the cell and cleave into my mind to make me sleep. Thankfully the burn marks on his hands and wrists are fully healed now. Feyre is in the Spring Court acting as our spy and when he’s not talking to her, Rhys is down here with me and Cassian.

Cassian hadn't left my side for a moment since I woke. He had a small cot placed outside my cell so that I wouldn’t have to sleep down here alone. Despite my protests he wouldn't leave to see Madja, he made her come here in this dark, dingy place. I had yet to touch anyone, even him, and it was starting to weigh on me. It was as if my skin turned colder in the absence of him, of anyone. I had taken for granted all the times I hugged my brother around the neck or sparred with Azriel. Not fully appreciated waking up in Cassian’s arms and being engulfed in his embrace when he came home sweaty and stinking from training.

But it wasn’t just me who was suffering from lack of touch. Cassian was a broken male. Many times he fought with Rhys and I to simply be allowed in the cell with me, but both of us declined. While Cassian was a strong male, Rhys had magic that could help protect him. If something happened he wouldn’t be gravely injured. Cassian argued and argued with the two of us for days. He only gave up when I told him I couldn’t live with myself if I had hurt him. I asked him to imagine the situation in reverse.

Rhys and Amren have been working tirelessly to teach me how to control my power. Even Cassain pitched in, teaching me the breathing techniques of Valkyries to keep my emotions calm when things seemed lost. I had made progress, but with the wards on the cell it was hard to measure the true extent of my control. The flame that danced on my skin was more of a flicker now, but who knew if that was the wards doing or my own.

“Keep pressing your power down into that well, what does it look like? What does it feel like?” Rhysand coached me.

We had found that the best way for me to put a damper on my power was to put it somewhere else. To seal it off from the rest of me in a way. Putting it in a vault and locking the door was effective until my emotions came into play, then Cassian’s breathing techniques worked their own magic.

“Good, good! You’re doing fantastic!” Rhys praised his voice the most enthusiastic it had been in a while.

I opened my eyes to see the flames on my skin extinguished, though I could feel them simmering under the surface, waiting to ignite once more. It hadn’t been the first time I was able to control my power, I had been doing well for the past week. Rhys figured I would do better if I let some of it out, like a cauldron that needed to boil over in order to simmer down. But I couldn’t do that here.

“How do you feel?” Rhys asked again, stepping closer to me.

“I feel more me now, not that I really know what that means anymore,” I say looking at my hands just waiting for them to ignite again.

Rhys takes my hands in his own, his wards up to keep from being singed. I look up to see his eyes sparkling, the happiest he’s been in a while, a smile lighting up his face.

“I think you’re ready to leave the cell,” he smiles and I hear Cassian remove his arms from the bars of the cell where he always rested them.

“Rhys I don’t know,” I shake my head as he holds my hands tighter.

“Well I do, you’re ready y/n and I can’t stand to see you in this cell any longer,” he pleads with me.

My eyes flit to my mate, who waits dutifully on the other side of the bars. His knuckles white from where he grips the iron. Like he was praying I’d cross that threshold just so I could be in the same room as him. It was that pain, that longing in his hazel eyes, that prompted me to nod my head yes.

“Thank the cauldron,” Rhys sighed in relief, bringing me towards the door. “Now the wards won’t be there to help you keep your power down, you’ll have to focus just as hard as you have been.”

The second my feet step over the threshold I feel it. The wards felt like a heavy blanket placed on top of me, without them I felt like I was laid bare. The violet flames under my skin flickered a bit but went out as soon as I pushed them back into that vault that kept us all from being burnt to a crisp.

Once I feel that vault door seal itself shut I look up to see Cassian staring at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. His eyes hold hope, and longing, and unmistakable sadness. My mate, my Cassian. Just three feet away from me.

I reach for him, feeling the need to comfort him but the second I do I stop myself and look down at my hands. There are no flames, but the simmering remains, icey and hot all at once. My hands clench into fists as I feel the pain in my chest. My eyes meet Cassian’s glassed over hazel ones and I feel the last piece of me break.

“I can’t- I can’t hold you,” I say, my voice breaking mid sentence. How long would it be till I could touch my mate again? Would I ever touch him again?

“It’s okay, I can still feel you, in here,” Cassian says, placing a hand over his chest and tugging on the bond so I could feel it.

I feel my throat bob as tears prick my eyes, suddenly it’s harder to breathe and flames ignite at my fingertips. My tears evaporate as they fall down my face and suddenly the room is caving in.

“Princess you need to breathe,” Cassian coos, placing his hand on my shoulder, the hiss of burning flesh echoes through the room as my mate rips his hands away from me and cradles his burnt hand. “FUCK!” he shouts.

“Cassian I-” my words get caught in my throat. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to.” I say moving towards him, but Rhys steps in front of me.

“y/n stop, you’re burning up. Let it wash over you, like a wave washing over a rock.” he says calmly.

I take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. I picture my power being shoved back in that vault, I imagine a wave of calm washing over me like a warm blanket. Only when I hear my heartbeat slow do I open my eyes. The flames have danced out again.

“That was incredible, you did that without the wards and without my help,” Rhys smiles proudly. “Today feels like a setback but you’ve made more progress than you know.”

I nod and turn my attention to Cassian who still holds his hand, “Cass I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“Shh princess, I know you didn’t mean to. I should’ve been more careful.” he says warmly, thankfully he doesn’t reach for me again.

“He’ll be okay, from the amount of times I’ve been burned Madja has the healing process down to a science,” Rhys chuckles trying to lighten the mood.

I wish his words were enough. I just burned my mate while he was trying to help him, and what’s worse, I couldn’t even hold him. I couldn’t comfort him, or ‘kiss it better’ or even inspect the injury. It was like every bone in my body wanted to see if he was alright and I couldn’t.

“I can put some wards on your bedroom, they won’t be as strong as down here but they will help,” Rhys assures me.

My mind wanders to my room. I had been sleeping in Cassian’s room for forever now, it was our room. But I couldn't sleep next to him anymore. Those days were gone.

“Put the wards on my old room, not Cassian’s,” I say calmly, averting my eyes to the stone floor.

“Like hell you’re sleeping in there,” Cassian grumbles. “You’re sleeping with me, in our bed, in our room.”

“Cass I can’t and you know it,” I say a little harsher than I should. I shudder a sigh and continue, “Look at what just happened, I won’t hurt you again, I refuse to.”

“She’s right Cassian, she could have a nightmare or a flare up in the night. Trust me when I say that little burn you got was nothing compared to her full power.” Rhysand says, knowing that there needs to be another voice of reason.

Cassain purses his lips, “Fine, then I’ll sleep in the reading chair next to your bed.” he says.

“No it’s not comfortable, you don’t have to do that,” I pleaded with him.

Cassian goes to argue but Rhys steps in, “I can have a bed moved into your room sister. Cassian can be close to you and he will be far enough away that he won’t be roasted alive.”

I nod solemnly, I still don’t like the idea of my mate being anywhere near me at the moment, especially after what just happened. But I knew that if I didn’t let him sleep in the room with me that he would sleep in the hall outside, and that wouldn’t do either. And besides, who knew how long things would be this way…

One month later…

Things are getting better. However I have yet to touch anyone but Rhys.

With my brother's help, I’ve gained more control over my power. We discovered that releasing it makes it easier to manage. When I depleted my reserves, there was less to burn off. However, the problem was that my reserves kept growing every day, as if I were gaining more and more power continuously.

There was no telling if it would ever stop growing and even more alarming, we didn’t know what would happen if I burnt out.

On top of that came new revelations. It seemed my power was more linked to the Night Court than we initially thought. I could now manipulate darkness and winnow just like Rhys could. Turns out winnowing was incredibly handy, especially since Cassian couldn’t fly me anywhere anymore.

Rhys and I worked everyday to let out some power. He taught me how to control my fire, how to aim it, and wield it as the weapon it was. It was during one of these very lessons that he got the news that Feyre had finally returned to us.

The reunion was teary and beautiful as I watched my brother and his mate embrace so warmly on the floor of the townhouse. Though, there was a certain pang in my heart knowing I couldn’t hold my own mate that way. I looked up at Cassian from across the room to find him already staring at me. I pursed my lips and looked away, trying my best to keep myself from crying.

“Oh y/n!” Feyre smiles and begins to run over and embrace me but Rhyand catches her around her middle.

“Feyre no!” he shouts, a male clearly worried for his mate.

His booming voice made me curl in a little on myself as Cassian took a protective step towards me, eyeing both of them.

“I’m sorry Feyre, but I can’t touch you. I can’t touch anyone actually, even Cassian.” I say sadly the shame washing over me like the tide.

“W-what? Why?” she asks from where she stands a safe distance away in my brother's arms.

I let out a breath, “When I went into the cauldron I changed, power awakened inside of me and I can’t control it. I’ve burnt Rhys about a hundred times now.” I sigh, knowing the last thing she wants to hear is how I’ve harmed her mate.

She turns and slaps Rhys across the chest, “I knew you were lying! I could feel the heat down the bond! Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks.

My brother chuckles at his applauded mate, clearly just happy that she’s finally back in his arms. “You had enough to worry about already, and besides I had it under control. Y/n is doing much better now.” he assures Feyre.

“As I live and breathe,” croons a voice that I hadn’t heard in years.

My eyes flit to behind Feyre, where Lucien Vanserra stands, his eyes raking over me. I knew him when we were young and Rhys and Tamling were still friends. I was always fond of the male, and his flirtatious ways. Rhys used to call us childhood sweethearts, though we were never anything more than good friends.

“Lucien-fucking-Vanserra,” I laugh as Lucein prowls towards me.

“It can’t be? Is that the precious Jewel of Prythian?” he jests. “If I had known I’d be seeing you I would’ve brought flowers. I think I recall the Spring Courts peonies being your favorite?” he smirks, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re a terrible guest Vanserra, we should throw you out,” I laughed, shaking my head at the silver tongued fox.

“Then allow me to gift you this instead,” he drawls before reaching for my hand.

“Lucien I wouldn’t” warns Rhys but it’s already too late.

The fox ignites flames across his fingers and picks up my hand. He doesn’t hiss or even flinch as he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it in greeting. His eyes of gold and russet burning into mine.

Cassian growls in warning at the sight of the Autumn Court prince touching me, but if Lucien cares or is even afraid he doesn’t let it show. Instead he flips my hand over so my palm is facing up, using his free hand to graze over the skin of my palm down to my forearm.

“Her power is not like mine,” he says to no one in particular. “It feels darker and perhaps stronger.”

“But you can touch her?” Amren questions watching Lucien inspect my hand.

“Of course I can touch her,” he smirks, winking at me. “My flames burn at the same temperature as hers. I don’t feel anything but her lovely skin.”

“That’s enough,” Cassain growls, stepping forward a bit.

Lucien’s eyes turn to the general, nothing but sheer amusement in them.

“Yes, yes, Feyre told me that The Jewel was spoken fort now,” Lucien tuts releasing my hand. “Forgive me for trying to ignite old flames.” he chuckles, turning away.

Rhys and Feyre promptly excuse themselves and we all take it as our queue to get lost, clearing the room at lightning speed. I walked out of the house with Cassian in tow, and I could practically feel his anger radiating behind me.

Since going into the cauldron things between Cassian and I had been, well… different. We were so physical before I was cursed with a power I couldn’t control. Always holding hands or cuddling whenever we could. It cleaved a hole in our relationship we couldn't find a way to replace.

While we still spent every waking moment together, we talked less. I missed the conversations we used to have about books or training (which I had kept up on in my own time). However, I knew that my new powers were a lifestyle change for him too. It felt like grieving who I once used to be, who I may never be again.

Part of me wondered if we would survive this “new me”. Cassian fell in love with me when I was weak and meager, he might not like this new me. This female he had to walk on eggshells around. What I did know was this, he had to adjust in his own way, and I would stand by him through whatever that process was for him.

I thought I could keep quiet about his intense brooding, until he grunted once more. I stopped and turned around to face him. My neck craned up to where his jaw ticked in frustration.

“You sound pretty angry back there big guy,” I tease, trying to keep the mood light.

“I haven’t been able to touch you in almost two months and Lucien Vanserra walks in and holds your hand like it’s no big deal,” he grumbles looking off to the side.

If things were the way they used to be I would be turning his chin to meet my gaze.

“Maybe he can help Cass,” I say softly, trying to give him something to root for.

“Yeah, yeah, but I’m always going to be upset he was the first one to touch you,” he says, lip curling into a half smile as if he realizes how ridiculous he’s being.

“Rhys says I’m doing better, and I feel better too.” I tell him. “Better days could just be around the corner.”

Cassain lets my words hang in the air a bit and I can practically see the wheels in his head churning, like he’s waging a war against his thoughts and instincts.

“Can we- can we try again?” he asks hopelessly.

Cass had been asking me the same thing for the past few weeks. He wanted to try and touch me, just for a moment. The male just wanted to hold my hand. But I told him no every time, for every time he asked I could hear the singing of his flesh and see him cradling a burnt hand. Like a bad nightmare on a loop.

“Cass no I won’t hurt you,” I say firmly, taking a step back from him just in case he got any ideas.

“Baby please, I just want to hold you again. I just want to feel my mate.” he begs and my heart shatters.

“I’m sorry Cass, but I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you again.” I say sadly, casting my head down. “We just have to hope that things get better tomorrow.”

Cassian goes to brush a hair out of my face and when he realizes he can’t he clenches his hand into a fist and clenches his jaw. And so the invisible wall that had been built between us raises again, and I feel that pang in my chest that, just. Won’t. Go. Away.

“What do you mean that was pretty close?” I cry looking at the scorched bit of grass next to the large rock I was supposed to hit.

“Pretty close could be the difference between hitting Hybern and hitting me in the heat of battle sister,” Rhys chortles.

We had been at it for hours today. After the week-long disappearance of him and Feyre he had finally come back to the real world to help me control my magic.

My well of power was turning shallow after hours of practice and my aim was starting to get sloppy. Which of course was dangerous for all involved, but mostly for the spring grass on the secluded hill we were on.

“Keep trying,” Rhys urges me from the boulder he sits on. I’m sure the thing had a permanent imprint of his ass by now.

“I can’t!” I say frustrated, running my hands through my hair. “I can’t break into people's minds, I can’t shapeshift.”

Rhys cocks and eyebrow and gracefully stands from the rock walking over to me.

“You wouldn’t know, you haven’t tried,” he says, summoning a kernel of his magic to rest in the palm of his hand, pure violet light. I do the same, but like always, it only manifests as violet flame. “Your power resembles mine, I can feel the traces of it that you carry. Try shapeshifting, amuse me sister.”

I look up at him with a sour face, “Into what? It’s not that simple.” I scoff, my brother always made magic seem so carefree, I was jealous of how easy he made it all look.

Rhys smirks and the snap of leather rings in my ears. The shit eating grin he wears as his wings spread out, basking in the sun makes my blood boil. Rhys was always a show off, especially when he was trying to push all my buttons.

“Maybe we’re the same, you are half Illyrian, even though you never got the wing gene.” he says, stretching his wings like he might stretch his arms when he first woke up in the morning.

“Rhys,” I grit out. He was toying with me, trying to poke fun at me so I might aim better or spew some more fire.

“Oh come on, humor your big brother.” he laughs. “Picture them in your mind, what do they look like?”

I let out a huff and rolled my eyes, and despite my better judgment I scrunch up my face and let my eyelids flutter shut. I try to picture what I might look like with wings, the same way I used to do when I was a little girl. I used to imagine myself flying around with my brother and his friends, going to far away places, anywhere but the townhouse I was raised in and caged in.

Weight crashes over me and when I open my eyes Rhys stands there with a smug grin on his face. His eyes gleamed with that ‘I told you so’ look only a big brother could possess. I dare to shift my shoulder blade behind me, and then there they are… that weight on my back that feels all too comfortable, like it was always meant to be there.

“Ha ha!” Rhys laughs, pumping his fists in the air.

Before I can protest he’s running over to pull me into a hug and ruffle up my hair with his knuckles.

“Look at that! My baby sister has wings!” he smiles, his eyes taking in the sight of them as they light up brighter than I had ever seen before.

I curl my back muscles so that my right wing comes in front of me. They look just like Rhys’, except unscarred from years of battle and much smaller, even smaller than Feyre’s. But the weight of them was perfect, like they were made for me.

“You’ve been training with Cassian haven’t you?” he asks, circling me as if he is taking in my posture and the muscles of my back.

“Yeah I have, why?” I ask, watching as his gaze rakes over my wings.

Even when I was in the cell I worked hard to continue doing the exercises that Cassin has taught me. It was hard to be cooped up in there all the time. While I trained and motivated I was able to escape if only for a little bit.

“Because the drills he has you running? They’re the same ones they put us through when we were young. They’re meant to strengthen our backs so we might carry our wings,” he explains, coming back to stand in front of me. “And by the looks of it you bear yours quite well.”

I look at my wings and flex them a bit. My brother was right, I was carrying my wings like they were second nature. My back didn’t scream from the pain, instead it almost seemed to welcome their weight. However, it was another change I would have to get used to. Unrelenting power, winnowing, not being able to touch my mate, and now wings?

I shook my head and thought for a moment. I was a completely unrecognizable person now. Far from the person Cassian fell in love with. My mind drifted back to the talk we had the other day, how I could feel the distance between us. I wondered if maybe this new me wasn’t one that he wanted. Wondered if perhaps he had preferred me to be nothing more than a princess… his mate. And now the wings? Could I possibly change any more?

“Do you think Cassian will care?” I ask softly bracing myself for any answer my brother might provide. “I mean I’ve changed so much, and he married me without wings and now all the sudden-”

“Sister,” Rhys says, grasping my arms to stop me from speaking. “Cassian is going to love your wings. He’s going to drool all over my carpets when he sees them.”

“Yeah but-”

My words get caught in my throat as I feel my brother's fingers digging into my arms. Into my skin. My eyes turn down to where he grasps my bare forearms. No wards, no magic, just him and me. Rhys was touching me. And he was unburnt.

“You-you’re touching me,” I breathe, grasping his forearms back.

“I had a suspicion that if you deplenished that well of power enough that I would be able to touch you. Looks like I was right,” he smiles.

I throw my arms around his neck and pull him into a soul crushing hug. It had been so long since I had been hugged or held or touched in any way. I didn’t know how badly it would burden my soul, not to feel my brothers warm hugs or my mates lingering touches. But here I was, happy and whole again.

When I pull back there are tears in both of our eyes. Tears of hope. Hope that I might make it through whatever this power was that sought to bring me down, hope that I could make a difference in the upcoming war, and hope that when all this was over, I might have a normal life.

“I think there’s someone who is desperately wanting to see you right now,” he smiles as a tear rolls down his face.

The townhouse is quiet when we walk in, both of us wingless and searching for one person… Cassian. Of course we knew he would be here, he was always here when Rhys and I went to train. Pacing and patiently waiting for me to return with some hope, some kernel of a possibility that I might be able to touch him or hold his hand that day.

That’s where we found him, wearing a hole in Rhysand’s beloved carpet waiting for any semblance of good news.

“Hey, how was training today?” he asked from where he stood a good few feet away.

“It went well,” I say timidly. Despite my brother's assurance I was still scared of what Cass might have to say about my new changes.

“It went well, that’s all you have to say? It went well,” Rhys protests from where he leans against his desk, arms crossed and looking every bit of the swaggering High Lord he was painted to be.

“Rhys,” I growl under my breath, he had promised not to butt in if I let him see Cassian’s reaction to his winged mate.

Rhys holds his hands up in mock surrender before signaling that he’s going to shut up now and enjoy the show.

I sigh and prepare myself for the worst, “Rhys and I discovered yet another new aspect of my power,” I say, looking to Cassian whose face is nothing but apprehensive, like he won’t let himself get his hopes up.

“And it’s a physical manifestation of sorts, one I’m not sure how you’ll react to,” I continue wearily.

Cassian relaxes a bit, “You’re my mate, and you always will be. You could sprout a tail and I would still love you.” he chuckles.

“I don’t know Cass, this one is pretty unforgivable,” Rhys teases, breaking his promise once again.

I shoot him a pointed glare that tells him he’s run out of warnings and he closes his mouth again. I take a deep breath in, visualizing my wings just like Rhys had instructed me and when I breathe out again I can feel their comforting weight.

When I open my eyes I find Cassian standing slack jawed in the middle of the room, Rhys’ booming laugh echoing off the walls at his usually composed brother's appearance. I can’t help but let my lip turn up at Rhys’s good humor, it was nice to have him break the tension.

“Y-You have wings?” Cassian sputters out taking a step closer to me.

“I’ve always been half Illyrian just like Rhys, but I never had the magic to shift into wings like he did. Now I do,” I explained to him.

“How could you for one moment think I wouldn’t be overjoyed by this?” he laughs stepping closer so that he’s towering over me. The movement feels so natural, the position feels so us.

I smile softly, my cheeks no doubt flushing under his lovesick gaze. My hand reaches out to touch him, like it had so many times before, but this time I don’t stop myself as I slowly go to touch his cheek.

As my fingers get closer he flinches ever so slightly, I can tell it’s a knee jerk reaction from being burnt, but my gaze never falters. Not as my fingers brush over the stubble of his unshaved jaw, and my palm comes to cup his face.

The tension in his body releases and his eyes flutter closed for a brief moment. He opens them and a tear falls down his face as he lets out a ragged breath.

“I can feel you,” he breathes out and I feel a piece of my soul come back to me.

I shudder a breath as I realize I’m crying too, “I can feel you,” I cry putting my other hand on his cheek.

“We…well I, figured out that her power is a well, when it’s near empty she doesn’t burn,” Rhys smiles from the corner of the room.

Cassian’s hands encircle my waist as he pulls me to his chest. I breathe in his scent, cedar and leather, and thank the mother that I can be in his arms again.

“What happens if she burns out? Uses all her power?” Cassian asks, already looking towards the future while I was still taking in the moment we had now.

Rhys sighs and shakes his head, “I’m not sure what happens. But I’m not willing to test her limits to find out, not when the possibility could be losing her forever.” he says sadly.

Cassian nods, I can tell that the answer Rhys gave him didn’t sit right with him. That he wanted to know more, wanted to make sure that very real possibility of losing me wouldn’t happen anytime soon. But then he tilted my chin up to meet his gaze and I could tell that he had decided that this moment was more important.

“You’re so cold,” he breathes. “But you’re still you. You still feel like you.”

“Oh Cass,” I laugh, throwing my arms around his neck.

His arms encircled me pulling me to him in a soul crushing hug, no doubt releasing all the tension between us that had been building for nearly two months now. I can’t help but let out a sob at the feeling of being in his arms again. At some point I feel us both hit the floor as we hold each other.

Cassian pulls back to brush the hair from my face, a movement I know he missed doing. Both of our faces streaked in tears but I didn’t care.

“Let’s go home,” he says softly. “To our room and our bed, so I can show you how much I’ve missed you, my beautiful mate.” he says.

I wasn’t able to fly myself to the House of Wind, despite having wings of my own now I had no clue how to even begin to fly. But Cassian didn’t mind carrying me, hells I didn’t mind either. For the first time in a long time we felt like us.

I lie on my stomach cradling a pillow as the sheets drape around my bare skin. Cassian lies next to me, propped up on his elbow as he runs a finger up and down my back, like even a simple touch like this meant the world to him. I know it did to me.

We had been at it for hours, I had to take a couple breaks to release my flames on the balcony but somehow the display of my power only seemed to turn Cassian on more. It wasn’t until now that we were truly spent and basking in the glow of just lying in our bed together.

“Show me again,” he muses, placing a kiss on my shoulder.

I knew what he meant. He had asked to see my wings a million times already. The first time he wanted to touch them, feel every inch of them. He opted to show me how sensitive they could be and I was greedily taking every touch he gave them. If I had known how easily affected his wings were I would’ve been far more careful when I washed them.

I roll my eyes and muster a kernel of power to summon my wings. His eyes light up immediately as he runs a hand down the leathery material. The hair on my skin raised and I couldn’t help but smile at the tenderness. My feared general admires my wings like they were expensive art.

“Beautiful,” he smiles, kissing the edge near him. “My mate is so beautiful”

I hum in delight as he repeats the phrase, fearsome general indeed. I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked in this moment. How long had it been since I saw him bare? His sculpted muscles that make him look like a god. Hair falling from where it was tied at the nape of his neck, face worn from coupling but still aglow with love? It had been so long. I could’ve stayed there forever.

“Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to fly,” he tells me softly, still brushing his hand over my wings and down my spine.

“Rhys says he wants Azriel to teach me since he also learned later in life.” I reply, my voice tired as the late hours creep in.

Cassian shakes his head, “No, you’re my mate. I’ll teach you.” he said in a tone that left no room for arguing.

“Rhys didn’t teach Feyre how to fly,” I pointed out with a smug smile. I knew how important it was to him that he be the one to teach me, but it was fun to push his buttons like this.

“Yes and because of that Azriel pushed Feyre off a cliff as a flying lesson,” he chuckled.

I remember the day my brother's mate came home with twigs in her hair, we all made fun of her then. Now I fear I will be living the same fate.

“But she did in fact learn how to fly,” I say, needing to push his buttons one last time.

“The answer is no princess,” he grumbles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Besides I feel like I just got you back.”

I sighed knowing the feeling all too well. While Cassian and I weren’t apart physically it felt like it. Sure I saw him every single day, and he slept in a bed next to mine, but we weren’t the same.

“I know how you feel,” I say, reaching out my hand to stroke his cheek, his eyes fluttering for a moment as if savoring the feeling.

He was silent for a moment, the air between us thick with things we never talked about. Hybern, the Cauldron, the war. It was something we should’ve talked about weeks ago. But if I had to talk about watching him die and not be able to hold him after? I don’t think I could do that. Clearly he felt the same.

“When you went into the Cauldron,” he said, drifting off as if recalling the horrid event. “I thought you were dead. I thought I was sitting there watching you die.”

My breath caught in my throat as I watched him come to terms with his thoughts, his emotions.

“I- there are no words to describe how it felt. To sit there and watch you die and not do anything about it. It was a mercy that I lost consciousness,” he continues. “When I woke up I thought you were gone. I thought I had woken up to a world where you weren’t alive anymore. Worst of all I thought they had left your body in that horrible place. That I wouldn’t be able to hold you one last time, even in death.”

“Cass-” I start to comfort him but he cuts me off.

“Azriel said you were here and that you were breathing and I nearly cried with happiness. But then I saw you in that cell, cold and on the dirty floor. I just wanted to hold you and…god, I wasn’t sure if we were ever going to be able to do this again.” he says, voice filled with emotion as he strokes my cheek.

“It’s not going to be easy Cass, the road going forward. There will be war and ruin, but I know that we can get through it. We’re going to be okay,” I smile cupping the hand he has rested on my cheek.

He smiles down and pulls me to him so that I’m laying on his chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he repeats back.

I had laid on his chest like this a hundred times before, but now it meant more. I sigh, breathing him in, enjoying the feel of his skin under my cheek once more. He was very adamant that this be the way I sleep tonight even though I was scared.

“But Cass what if I burn you in the middle of the night-”

“No. You will sleep in our bed, in my arms and that’s final.”

I didn’t argue with him after that.

As if on queue the second I feel myself drifting into sleep Cassian shakes my shoulder a bit.

“Princess you’re heating up a bit,” he whispers in my ear.

We found that whenever my skin started getting hot that my power started to grow, when I expelled the excess my skin turned cold. A welcome meter of where I was at, but good lord I simply wanted to rest.

“Ugh, I’ll go light something on fire,” I groan, pulling myself from the bed and tossing Cassian’s shirt over my head.

It was going to be a long road back to normalcy, if there could even be a “normal” after this. But I wasn’t walking the path alone, I never would be.

Last chapter coming soon….

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 , @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21, @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe , @anxious-study , @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams , @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5 , @saltedcoffeescotch , @flourelle ,

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202 , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x reader fluff #cassian x reader smut #cassian x you #cassian #cassian angst #cassian fluff

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captainsophiestark · 6 months ago

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Agents of Shield Masterlist

Main Masterlist

X - x reader

F - Female Reader (otherwise it’s gender neutral)

☀️ - Fluff

✨ - Humor

☁️ - Angst

💙 - Platonic

⭐️ - Author Faves

Grant Ward Masterlist

Newest Fic: November 27th, 2024

Bobbi Morse

Laser Tag X ☀️

Untouchable F!X ☀️💙

Daisy Johnson

Closure X ☁️☀️

The Framework's Silver Lining X ☁️☀️

Anything For You X ☀️

Super Spy X ☀️

Weirdest Day Ever X ☁️☀️

Watch Out For Vampires X ☀️✨

#agents of shield #agents of shield masterlist #agents of shield fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel oneshot #marvel imagine #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#agents of shield oneshot #agents of shield imagine #grant ward #daisy johnson #skye #quake #bobbi morse

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snowflakeanimelover · 2 years ago

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Confidence Part 1

Summary: Inuyasha seemed to live for the Shikon Jewel to become a full-fledged demon. Instead of retrieving the jewel successfully, his annoyance rises to its max when a human woman from the village becomes fond of him. He’s not sure why she isn’t scared of him, like all of the other villagers, but once fifty years pass, he doesn’t realize how much he misses the woman.

Relationship: Inuyasha x Female Reader

Fandom: Inuyasha

Warnings: Fluff, cussing, light gore, demons, fights, Inuyasha being his rude self, hurt with comfort, not really a happy ending

— — — —

Inuyasha wasn’t born how he wanted to be. He was looked down upon not only because he was a demon but because he was a half-demon. The humans were frightened of him, and his only brother hated his being because he was a mere half-breed. What could he get to make things much easier in his life? Perhaps something that could make him a full-fledged demon and cherish the way humans shivered in his presence.

Why it’s the Shikon Jewel that could grant his wish.

For most of his life, he spent his time trying to get the Shikon Jewel out of the High Priestess Kikyo’s hands. Without fail, he has certainly been able to grasp the sacred jewel in his hands but is unsuccessful in having it for himself completely.

Undoubtedly, the skilled High Priestess takes it back within ten minutes tops.

And for so many years, (Y/N) has watched the young half-breed fail over and over again. Countless times she has felt rather…sad for his predicament. She is not scared of the demon. In fact, she seems to smile and giggle as she watches him easily ward off the weapons that are thrown at him. It amazes her to no end that he doesn’t bother killing anybody as a normal demon would.

So, she deems correctly that he is, in fact, not a demon.

On one sunny day, (Y/N) finds herself running into the very demon she was thinking about on her way home from the forest. The basket full of plants, herbs, and vegetables begins to feel heavy as she stands there in nervousness. She never expected to meet him in person, as much as she’d like, so she wasn’t sure what she should do.

Should I just walk past? She thinks to herself, nervously picking at the twigs poking out from their folded spots in the basket. With a light sigh, she decides its best to leave him be.

“What are you staring at?” Of course, luck doesn’t seem to be on her side.

She hums in question as she looks at him, shocked he even spoke to her. “I-I’m sorry?”

He clicks his tongue, turning away with attitude, “Whatever. Just beat it already.”

Such attitude he had. (Y/N) expected him to be this way, especially after the conversations she had heard between him and Lady Kikyo. “Ah…” she squeaks out.

“What is it?” He growls, glancing back at her.

“U-um…I noticed you’re a bit lonely….” She finally speaks.

This seemed to tick him off. He stands abruptly from the ground, and his hands now formed as fists. But (Y/N) didn’t flinch. “Yeah! So what?!”

Way to set him off, (Y/N). She silently scolds herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Um…would you like to have dinner with me? I planned on making a stew.”

This, to her surprise, caught the half-breed off guard. He looked quite shocked for a few long seconds. His wide golden eyes stared at her in disbelief. But, to her dismay, he huffs and sits back down. With his back facing her, she could see his shoulders quite tense.

“Leave me alone already!”

(Y/N) knows not to fight with him. So, with that, she bows politely and continues her walk home.

#inuyasha #inuyasha x reader #x reader #female reader #reader #romance #slow/fast romance #partly slow build #slight gore #fights #human reader #confidence #another small story

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fever-daydream · 3 months ago

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Fever-Daydream Request Rules and Information

1. At this time, I will not write smut. I am okay writing more suggestive topics and may be open to writing smut in the future, but not right now.

2. Along with smut, I will not write large age gaps, extreme gore or violence, abuse of any kind, or any stories involving hateful rhetorics towards any group of people.

3. Though I will write stories about real life people, I won’t write about ships between real life people (ex. Joshler, Frerard, etc.). I am all for shipping, but it is just not something I personally am comfortable writing.

4. All “x Reader” pairings will be “x Fem! Reader” unless a gender neutral reader is explicitly asked for. I will not write “x Masc! Reader”. This is due to the fact that I am a cis female and do not feel like I can accurately do so.

5. If you request a romantic pairing between two characters, they must both be canonically legal adults (18+). In all requests that are x reader, the reader will be at least 18 years old, even if the pairing is platonic.

6. I am a graduate student. Though I will strive to get requests done as fast as possible, I have no specific timeline that can be expected. I ask that you give me grace. Constant asking about when I will fulfill a request will result in the request being denied. If this happens multiple times, you will be blocked.

7. I have the right to deny any request if I feel uncomfortable with the subject matter and/or it does not follow the above stated rules.

These rules may be updated at any time and are not all encompassing.

Who I Write For

Movies and TV Shows

Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Nick “Goose” Bradshaw

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Robert “Bob” Floyd

Javy “Coyote” Machado

Twisters

Tyler Owens

Boone

Scott

Javi

Mission: Impossible (Movie Series)

Ethan Hunt

William Brandt

Star Wars Universe

Poe Dameron

Cassian Andor

Anakin Skywalker

Luke Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Han Solo

Finn

Bodhi Rook

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Steve Rodgers (Captain America)

Sam Wilson (Falcon/Captain America)

Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

Peter Quill (Starlord)

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

Scott Lang (Antman)

T’Challa (Black Panther)

Grant Ward (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D)

Howard Stark (Agent Carter/Captain America: The First Avenger)

Loki

Thor

American Satan/Paradise City

Johnny Faust

Vic Lakota

Leo Donovan

Dylan James

Bands

Twenty One Pilots

Tyler Joseph/Clancy

Josh Dun/Torchbearer

Black Veil Brides

Andy Biersack/The Prophet

CC/The Destroyer

Lonny Eagleton/The Redeemer

Jake Pitts/The Mourner

Jinxx/The Mystic

My Chemical Romance

Gerard Way/Party Poison

Mikey Way/Kobra Kid

Frank Iero/Fun Ghoul

Ray Toro/Jet Star

Palaye Royale

Remington Leith/Aldous Blackwell

Emerson Barrett/Alan Blackwell

Sebastian Danzig/Fredrick Blackwell

If you do not see a person or character on this list, feel free to message or send me an ask! I am a fan of many things!

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zyafics · 9 months ago

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PLAY FAKE | 07

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs.

It's easy for you to pretend everything's fine.

You've been worried about the whole Aaron situation for the past week, but you couldn't let that be known. You were handling it—best you could—but, at least, it sets your priorities a bit straighter. You realize whatever the outcome is, you need Rafe to get this job.

So, you were going to play the hell out of the girlfriend role.

To get ready, Rafe picks you up from Sailor to take you to Tannyhill. This time, when you got into the car, it was met with complete silence.

"Hey," you greet, to which Rafe says nothing as he reverses out of the lot and returns to the road. You remember that Rafe doesn't function normally whenever he has these types of events. He's probably nervous about the upcoming gala, a need to impress his father once more and prove to Ward that he's capable. You don't hold it against him. "Okay, then."

You settle back against the leather seat. You weren't going to let him ruin your performance; the curated mood you set up for tonight. You were going to hold out till the gala was over.

Rafe glances over to you once he knows you're looking away. Your chin tucked in your palm as you watch the scenery outside the window. Something pinch in his chest.

His right hand slides over your thigh, exposed from your short work attire, and the warm touch surprises you. You turn back to the blond, tilting your head with a small smile. "Ready to talk to me?"

"Don't push it."

You laugh and the tension in his shoulders loosens. The sound always feels like a constant mark of normalcy.

"Who's watching your sisters tonight?"

"Huh?" You respond, the question caught you off-guard and you wonder if you misheard him. "Oh. Oh. I got a babysitter for them. They should be fine till tomorrow."

He nods, knowing he shouldn’t have asked but having done it anyway. "You could've let them stay at Tannyhill. I have people to watch them for free."

He pauses, holding his breath as he waits for your response. Very few people get this offer and the fear of rejection hangs over him.

"Nice try, darling," you tease, falling back to a sense of comfort, "but I'm fine. I got it figured out."

He‘s not surprised by your answer, but it annoys him nonetheless.

When you reach Tannyhill, you didn't bother to wait for Rafe to give you the boyfriend experience. You knew he wouldn't. Instead, you went ahead and opened the car door yourself, heading straight for the porch.

Rafe was just about to cross over to the passenger side.

Following suit, he unlocks the front door and grants you entry. You step inside, reveling in the details of the estate. Despite only being here a few times, you can recall the key pieces of the house—the crystal chandelier with dangling pendants, the cabinets of beautiful collector items from the Bahamas, the flowery display that Rose curates in her free time. You immediately check off all their placement in your head, strolling over to the staircase to ascend.

"Know your way around my house, huh?" Rafe taunts, sticking his hands in his pockets. You glance over your shoulders with an easy grin.

"Just trying to take notes for the next Mrs. Cameron. Don't worry, it's not for me." You wink, turning back around before you notice the way his smile falls flat.

Reaching Rafe's bedroom, you step into the familiar space and eyed it with suspicion. From social media, you saw that Rafe went to a party right after hooking up with you the other day. You will never admit it to him but you wanted to catch if there's any evidence of another woman.

But instead of finding a pair of panties on the floor, you find the red tulips sitting on his desk. Your guards lower.

After he gifted them to you, you cut off the ends and put it in a glass vase in hopes of rejuvenating the flowers. It worked. You nearly forgot about it since you haven't visited since that day, but you were surprised he kept it after all this time.

You turn around to Rafe once he enters. "You like tulips now?" You tease, to which he glances over to the bouquet.

"I forgot to throw them away."

"Sure." You hum, partially unconvinced but deciding not to take any deeper meaning to it. He probably did. "Well, I'm going to go get ready."

You head into the ensuite, dropping your bags on the floor. As you change into your dress, curl your hair, and put on your makeup, you realize you forgot your lipstick.

Searching through your bag and throwing out used brushes into the sink, leaving a powdered mess, you still couldn't find it anywhere. You frown, "dammit."

Your attire feels incomplete without it, but you're not going to cry over this miscalculation. Stepping out, you find Rafe, fitted with his tailored black suit, sitting at his desk and reading a file in his hands. His concentration breaks when he hears you exit.

His eyes scan over your figure and, while he knows he's already seen you in this before, it does nothing to minimize how captivating you truly look in the dress. The dress he bought. "You look amazing," he murmurs, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.

"Thank you." You say with a laugh, uncomfortable at the way his attention is set on you. You need to expel it. "Unfortunately, I don't have any lipstick on. I probably left it at home."

"You mean this?" He picks something off his counter and holds it out to you and, lo and behold, it was your lipstick.

"Where'd you get that?"

"You left it here," he declares, lifting to his feet and approaching you with it. "The maids were going to throw it away but I assumed that..." He trails off, his eyes finding yours.

"That I wouldn't be able to afford another one?" You supply with a forced smile, knowing it squeezes your chest at how Rafe sees you. A Pogue who can't afford many luxuries. "Don't worry, Kook, it's like seven dollars, I would've bought another one."

That wasn't what he meant.

He remembered that you didn't let him buy you another one so he figured you wouldn't allow him to replace it either. But, he didn't know how to say that without coming off pathetic.

Instead, he returned it to its rightful owner.

Grateful, you take it out of his hand and begin to apply it right there. He watches you as you do, the freshness of plump lips replaced with a coat of red. "How'd I look?"

Kissable. Rafe swallows hard, tearing his eyes away and finding the empty space around your neck.

"Where's your necklace?"

You twist the cap back on the lipstick, tipping your head to the bathroom. "In there. I was going to put it on later."

"Let me put it on for you."

You blink up at him from the sudden offer. "You want to?"

He shrugs. He feels like he's playing a silent dance with you, hoping you’ll take the next step.

A small smile curls on your scarlet-stained lips and a flutter of butterflies release in your stomach. "Okay, come on," you take his hand, pulling him in front of the sink where you left your brushes, "don't worry about that, I'll clean it later."

Rafe honestly didn't mind. He likes the idea of you making a mess in his bathroom, the counter littered with your things. It shows that you were here. "Make sure to make it spotless. I don't want to see this shit tomorrow."

You roll your eyes and pull out the small box wrapped with a golden ribbon. "Yes, darling," you say with a mock, "would never want to disappoint the Kook prince."

He's used to feeling pride in being from Figure Eight, but something about the way you use Kook makes him wish he wasn't.

You take out the necklace from the box, internally reprimanding yourself at how expensive the piece is—knowing how it could be well-spent paying back Aaron—before handing it over to Rafe.

He places it over your neckline, pushing your styled hair to the side for full exposure. You watch him through the mirror, his concentration pinned on clasping the small hole.

"What were you working on?" You ask, filling in the silence as you refer to the file.

"A case for my dad." He explains, frustration slowly building in him because the hook won't puncture through the complicated loop. "He wants to close this deal tonight with one of his partners but they're refusing to budge."

You nod just as you hear him release a swear under his breath, his brows crinkled together and his patience thinning. You know the look. "It's okay," you comfort with a gentle tone, "take your time. It's not going anywhere."

It won't slip through. "I should've gotten you another necklace."

"I guess someone should've listened to me." You tease with a chuckle. Rafe flicks his gaze to meet yours in the reflection, watching your smile, no judgment in sight. His shoulders slacken a bit. "I guess it proves that you should always listen to your girlfriend. What's that saying? Happy wife, happy life?"

"We're not fucking married." He announces bluntly without much thought, his focus too wrapped up on the stupid chain. Your smile falters. Right, you got too carried away in your role. He clasps the ends together. "Finally."

You nod your head in gratitude as you silently slip out of the bathroom once again, making your way to the dresser where you left your purse. Your eyes gloss over the opened file on the desk and you stop in your tracks.

"Wait, I know him." You point to the paperwork, glancing over your shoulders to find Rafe. "He's that guy that owns the hotel chains for the tourists. The one who just bought up all that land near the marsh."

Rafe nods, picking it up. "Yeah. Cameron Development wants it but he handed the negotiation off to his daughter. She doesn't wanna talk and plans on proceeding with the original blueprint."

"But that doesn't make sense." You frown, plucking the case out of his hand. You look through the information. He lets you. "That land isn't a good location for a hotel. It's too close to the wilderness protection area for endangered species. They're going to get hell from the FWS."

Rafe stares back at your assessment. "What?"

"Look," you point to the map where he highlighted where the land is going to be used. "This is where the marsh is. This is where the hotel is going to be built. If you use that land, you'll disrupt the ecosystem and it's going to fuck you over later by the government."

He shakes his head, disagreeing. "We planned ahead for that."

"No. You only minimize it. You're going to cut off a main water source. It'll dry out the fishes and marines. You may be able to hold off the feds for a couple of years but I'm willing to bet it won't last longer than five. Max."

He's watching you, the way your brows knit together and your lips purse as you examine the case. "How do you know all that?"

"I work on the docks," you shrug, giving back the file to Rafe. "Heyward has been talking about how some Kook hotel magnate is planning on restricting a part of the marsh where they make their living. It's worrying them."

Rafe says nothing, glancing back down to the papers. "Well, Cameron Development was planning on using it for residential housing."

You shake your head, settling on the end of his mattress. It's so soft, unlike the one you have back home. "I wouldn't suggest that either."

He knows he shouldn't be taking suggestions from a bartender, but something in the way you held your ground makes him consider otherwise. "Why not?"

"Other than disrupting people’s livelihood? You don't want an alligator to end up on someone's back porch and they can't shoot it because it's part of the endangered species list. The lawsuits would be a nightmare."

What you don't explain to him is that you learned a lot of this because of what your parents drilled in you. They discussed local politics often. They believed it's important to have an understanding about your community and to know when certain corporations or people are about to harm it. That's what Kooks often forget.

"I mean, do what you want but that's my honest opinion." You conclude with a shrug. At the end of the day, it’s not your business.

Rafe watches as you lay back against his bed with a sigh. Your dress riding up; the high slit revealing more of your skin.

He has nothing else to say to that—to you—because, in some ways, you're right. You come in here and break down a problem he spent the past three days trying to figure out. It's maddening how incredible you are.

He throws the case onto the desk. His focus now pinned on you as his knees sink to the space beside your hips and he hovers over you, strong arms pressed next to your head.

"You're pretty smart then, huh?" He goads, his eyes scanning over your face. The necklace tangled with his initials. How you look under him.

You grin. "I told you. I'm not just a Pogue with no brains."

You're referring to his insult at the bar, the insulating that you weren't smart enough because you were from The Cut. He couldn't believe you remembered that.

He should apologize.

No one taught him how.

He changes the subject. "So why is someone like you, who clearly has a knack for these types of things, running a rundown bar in the middle of the docks?"

Rafe doesn't recognize your smile slipping off, just slightly. You don't immediately answer him. Your hand raises to cup the side of his profile.

"Are we going to keep discussing business or are you going to kiss me?" You challenge, because that's the best way to avoid these types of conversations with Rafe.

He scoffs. The way you tease him sends a shot of arousal down his spine. "Who said anything about wanting to kiss you?"

You tilt your head with a raised brow. "Are you saying I'm wrong? Because I have a faint memory of someone saying I was right about a certain necklace…”

He shakes his head, the corner of his lips raising in a smile. "Never said that."

"Didn't need to," you declare with a wink, "I can read your mind."

"Yeah?" He leans forward, his mouth right beside your ear. "Do you know what I'm thinking of right now?" He lowers his hand to travel up your exposed leg, closer to your aching pussy. Your breath hitch. "That I want to rip this fucking dress off and fuck you right here?"

You wrap both your arms around his shoulders. "Yeah," you play along. "I did."

"And what are you thinking about?" He rasps, his eyes searching your face for any sense of affirmations. That you could possibly want him too.

You merely smile, gently pushing him back and onto the mattress. Changing position, you straddle him. "How about I show you?"

Planting kisses on the edge of his mouth, down to his jaw, to his neck, he tips his head back for you. You feel his erection hardening under his pants, pressed directly against your core. "Feels good, darling?"

Rafe draws his hands up your waist to hold you in place. He wants to kiss you now, desperately, but you avoid his lips as punishment. "A little underwhelmed to be honest, sweetheart."

You giggle, slowly rolling your hips. He groans at the sensation, feeling his cock tightens. "Are you sure?" You say, sucking on the curve of his neck as you hear a small moan leave his lips. The low sound igniting heat in your lower belly. “I think someone wants me.”

"That's enough." He announces, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a hungry kiss. Both your hands slide up his chest for balance and you melt into his touch.

Red lipstick marks are covering Rafe all over, but he didn't fucking care. All he wants is to taste you, feel you, that he would gladly take the mess you give.

His hand lowers to your exposed cut of your dress, pushing the red satin away to gain more access. His knuckles brush against your bare cunt. "No panties?" He asks with shock, his darkened blue eyes finding yours. Your shy smile gives him everything he needs. "Bad girl."

Your expression is innocent. "It ruined the dress."

His fingers graze your wet slit. "I have to buy you more then."

You chuckle, before he finds your clit and rubs broad circles around the swollen nub, and your laugh turns to a shudder. "Th–that was a one-time thing."

"Is it?" He muses, his fingers entering you and a whimper escapes. "I bet I can fuck a yes out of you."

He probably could, with the way he handles you. Knowing your body so intimately, what turns you on, when you're about to come. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, pulling him into another kiss and silencing your response.

Rafe gives in immediately. Your lips part and he sucks on your tongue while his fingers rub you faster, little moans leaving you between kisses. You come on his hand within time.

Weakly pulling yourself off, you start to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants—his hips lifts to assist. When you free his bulge from his boxer-briefs, it stands hard and swollen. "Such a pretty cock," you sigh in awe, stroking your thumb over the bit of precum at the tip. Rafe lets out a groan.

"Are you going to ride me, baby?" He asks thickly, his hand landing on your waist in preparation to help you mount.

"Not right now," you declare with an apologetic smile, his expression falling. "I can't ruin my makeup." You look at your kisses smeared over his fair skin. "Well, more than it is."

His hand doesn't leave your hips. "You can always reapply."

You shake your head, gripping around his base, your fingers barely connecting because of his girth. Rafe's breath grows swallows as you start to pump him. "But I can make you feel better."

He loves the way your hand wraps around him, tight enough for him to feel pleasure with each stroke, and his balls soon tightens. "Just like that, baby," he moans, propping himself back by his elbows as you work on him. "I'm about to come."

You notice, with the way his cock is twitching under your palm, and just as he's about to release his load, you dip your head and cover your mouth over the tip.

"Fuck." He grunts under his breath as you suck him clean, your hand continuing to rub him to empty every drop. When he finishes his high, you pull back, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

"Didn't want to ruin your clothes." You inform bashfully, standing up from the bed. He wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back beside him but the opportunity was missed.

You go to the bathroom to grab a wet paper towel and return with the intent of washing away all your markings on Rafe. As you settle beside him to wipe away the lipstick, he moves away.

"What if I want to keep one?"

"What?" You shed a small laugh. He can’t be serious. "My lipstick?"

He shrugs. "It shows that we're together."

Oh, right. For a blind, hopeful moment, you thought it was because he actually wanted you. More than just a fake title. No, it was just another shield, another way to demonstrate he's committed.

You silently agree, wiping away most of your kisses until the last one is left. Just right under his collarbone, enough to be seen with a good eye but mostly inconspicuous. "Good?" You ask evenly, to which Rafe glances over to the mirror and nods. "Okay, I'm going to fix myself and then we should start heading out."

—

You put on your facade.

It's easy. You just pretend you're someone else—not a lowly bartender from The Cut making ends meet but someone dignified and deserving. You play into the role of being Rafe Cameron's girlfriend with that mentality.

The gala is hosted downtown, at a large five-starred hotel with a massive ballroom. When you enter through the double doors, opened by a pair of waitstaff, you stare in admiration at the exquisiteness at the place. Rafe catches your expression.

“Close your mouth. You’re acting like you've never been to a gala before."

"I haven't." You snap back lowly, before remembering you're in public. You shift your tone to be more friendly. "I mean, this is my first time here."

Rafe's taken aback by your compliance. He knows he should appreciate it, because you always fight back against him on everything, but the achievement feels hollow and disingenuous.

The two of you fall into steps with the room, greeting familiar faces. When Rafe ends up in a conversation with a group of Cameron Development's business partners, you were casted aside in the role of obedient housewife—where the women socialize while the men talked shop—and you didn't like that.

With a gentle hand on Rafe's shoulder, you subtly interject yourself into the discussion.

"Y'know, Rafe's pretty good at that." You praise, causing the eyes of the older men to fall on you. Your fake boyfriend stiffens under your palm, his gaze set on your profile to understand what you're trying to do. "I saw the way he works those cases. He's dedicated and efficient. Business deals are meant to be made with a keen eye and deep considerations. Rafe always does that."

They fall silent for a few moments, watching you with amusement, before a man with a scuffed beard opens his mouth. "And how would you know anything about it? Aren't you a bartender?"

Rafe's jaw tightens at the way those men address you, with such a superiority complex. It reminds him of when he first met you. But, like then, you didn't let them bother you. "Yes and I'm also the sole owner of Sailor. I've been running it by myself since I was eighteen, which has had an average increase of 1.1% profit margins every year since. I know what I'm talking about."

Rafe stares at you, slack-jawed. He didn't know that. The group of men held similar expressions, filled with embarrassment at their misperception of you. "And, if I remember correctly, you had a construction plan for a new shopping center downtown, right? Instead of contracting with Cameron Development and utilizing local labor from the Banks—which Rafe suggested—you wanted to import mainland workers. How did that work out for you?"

You heard Rafe on the phone once, talking about a shopping center being built, with an intended budget of thirteen millions, wanting to cut corners. They didn't listen to Rafe with his recommendations, pinned him as too young and inexperienced to know better, that it ended up costing them twenty-one millions. It's still yet to be finished.

Scuffed Beard shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny, his eyes flickering amongst his peers with humiliation. You smile sweetly. "I'm not saying this as a critique on your character, sir, I'm sure you're an incredible businessman." You declare, coaxing him with compliments so he wouldn't hold bitter resentment against the Camerons. "But, your organization has an aging board committee. You might want to consider a fresh perspective on things." You glance over to Rafe, in a subtle gesture. "It might even save you millions."

A woman's hand settles on your waist and draws your attention away to say something. When you turn back to Rafe, you present a loving smile, so bright and natural. If he was anyone else, he would've believed that you adored him, but he knows it's a mere disguise.

"I'm going to go mingle, darling, have fun." You raise to your tippy-toes and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. It leaves a faint lipstick stain but you figure it would help him sell his committed act.

Turning your heels, you leave and continue your (fake) girlfriend duties. Rafe watches until you disappear into the crowd and only then does his attention return back to the quieted group of boisterous men who once didn't view him as competent. Their gaze shifts to his, waiting.

"You were saying?" One of them offers, reminding him of an idea Rafe was talking about before you came in—one they were rejecting—and a concealed smirk rises to his lips.

The rest of the night is spent talking and establishing relationships. An orchestra plays in the background while the men gather around, discussing their partnerships. You rarely saw Rafe, except in the passing, and each time his eyes lingered over to your direction, you gave him an affectionate smile, your fingers waving fondly over the separated distance.

All for show.

In the middle of a conversation with a group of Ward's partners, which were talking about golf tournaments and fickle deals, he pardons himself and strolls over to you. You were in the middle of talking to a group of women, hyping up Rafe's reputation as a successful underdog, knowing that, while the women may be casted as gossips, they are also direct access to their husbands' ears.

His hand slides under your waist. "Excuse us." Rafe nods to the housewives, before pulling you away.

"What happened?" You ask quietly, searching his face. "Is there a problem?"

"No, everything's fine." He shakes his head. Something about it warms his heart, but he can't help but wonder if this is the continued act you've been putting on the entire night. "I just... I needed a break."

You nod. "That's fine. It's good to take a breath once in a while. I know it can be overwhelming."

His jaw flexes. Something about your saccharine mood this entire evening feels off. The way you were complimenting him earlier with the business partners feels dishonest. "Stop it."

Your brows furrow together at his sharp tone. "What? What did I do wrong?"

"That." He gestures to you as a whole. "The concern. That pretend. I wanna hear my girl, not the bullshit you've been putting up for everyone else."

You blink in surprise. You can't even fully appreciate him referring to you as his before scoffing at his audacity. "Seriously? You're mad because I'm being too nice? Would you rather I give you an attitude every time you open your mouth?"

He smirks, satisfied. "There you are."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "I can't with you. When I snap at you, you get pissed off, but when I'm nice, you're pissed off. You can't be pleased, Rafe Cameron."

He doesn't understand it either, but he loves the fire behind your eyes when you talk back and he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue. Perhaps, it's something about who you reveal yourself to. How much. The idea that he gets the other side of you—one where no one gets often—that's what he likes. It doesn't matter if it's your attitude or bitter remarks. It's different. Because it feels completely his.

"Yeah." He nods, cupping your cheeks with one hand, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. "What can I say? I love this mouth. Reminds me of when I need to punish it."

You playfully shove him off but you can't ignore the knot twisting in your stomach. Your mind wanders to earlier, when you were giving him a handjob and swallowed his cum. It causes you to rub your thighs together.

Rafe recognizes that look. He wants to rile you further, maybe drag you off to a secluded area and fuck you—but he hears his name being called from behind and he looks up to see his father approaching. His spine straightens, his shoulders tense up.

"Rafe." Ward greets, glancing over to you with an acknowledged nod. "He has just arrived. I need you to convince him to settle on a deal before we lose that land. You're the only one I can trust with this."

He's a bit annoyed that his father interrupted his limited time with you but with the ounce of approval he's giving—telling Rafe he's the only person he can rely on, the one he wants to close the case—he can't help but submit.

When Ward leaves, Rafe looks back at you, his expression is vulnerable for a moment. His father is depending on him and the pressure is kicking in. He wants to ask you to come with him, for moral support, but he doesn't know how to word it without sounding inadequate—like he needs you there to succeed. So, he settles on his silence.

You return to the housewives but, this time, you remain closer to Rafe. You saw the look on his face and, while you wonder if you're overthinking, you wanted to stay nearby.

After his negotiation to the hotel Kook, the man considers his proposal. He tells Rafe that he needs a moment with his company to discuss before making a final decision. Once he left, Rafe releases a heavy sigh, searching for his father when a figure among the crowd makes him stop. Sarah.

What the fuck is she doing here? He has never once seen her attend any of Cameron Development's events, claiming them to be too meticulous and boring. Yet, here she is, wearing a formal dress and heading directly to their father.

Ward greets her with a beam of pride, his arm wraps around his eldest daughter and introduces her to his partners. Sarah reciprocates, waving and nodding along. Rafe could only hear the sound of his own blood boiling.

When his sister goes off somewhere, Rafe makes a direct beeline to his father. He pulls the patriarch aside. "What the hell is Sarah doing here?"

Ward knows the look in his son's eyes. "Calm down—"

"Calm down?" He echoes, incredulous. He hates that phrase. His darkened eyes stare down at his father. "What does that even mean? What's going on? Are you—" He couldn't utter the next words, his anger reaching its peak.

"Rafe, listen. Sarah, she's been out for a couple of months—"

"Yeah, because she fucking ran away."

"Language." Ward's command is sharp, causing his son to fall silent. "That's your sister. She's coming home and I'm trying to make her feel more comfortable."

"Comfortable?" He repeats with an indignant scoff. When Rafe was at his all-time low with his coke addiction, his father kicked him out of the house for weeks. But when Sarah abandons Tannyhill for months, doing god-knows-what with her boyfriend, Ward welcomes her back with open arms.

It isn't fucking fair.

"Does this mean..." Rafe couldn't finish the sentence. He doesn't know if he wants to know. All he feels is this intensifying frustration at the way his father could always accept his perfect daughter but criticizes him at every little mistake. Never good. Never enough.

Ward answers him anyway.

"Yes, I'm still considering her for the company."

He doesn't respond to that. He stares at his father with nothing more than pure, unbridled anger. Anger and rage. Rage and jealousy. Jealousy and hurt.

Ward tries to place a comforting hand on his shoulders, but the eldest son shoves him off. He turns, exiting from the ballroom.

You follow him.

"Rafe. Rafe. Rafe!" You chase after him, breaking into a mini-sprint as your heels click against the marble-floored lounge, before your hand catches his elbow. Your eyes search his hardened face. "Talk to me."

He pushes you away too. "I hate him."

"What?" You blink through the confusion. "What happened?"

"He always picks—" He cuts himself off, his eyes growing teary and he doesn't want you to see. "Fuck."

Someone walks by and Rafe tries to turn away, not wanting to be seen as weak by any passing stranger. You pay a glance to the oblivious man cruising by, before taking Rafe's arm and pulling him to the nearest empty space: a bathroom.

When the door locks, you face the blond. Your tone gentle, your approach cautious. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Okay?" He scoffs at your concern. He doesn't feel anywhere near okay. "What the fuck do you think?"

You frown, but you know this is always the first step. His anger always targets you first. "I want you to tell me."

Rafe locks his jaw, frustrated at the way you're being too kind while he's nothing but filled with rage. He doesn't deserve it. "My sister is back and you're asking me if I'm okay? Are you stupid?"

You cross your arms over your chest. Not out of anger, more out of protection. "I'm not part of your family, Rafe, I don't know why that matters. You're being mean and I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" He repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. "Like you were helping me with my conversations? Talking me up? Making me sound like I was good?"

He's on the brink of a breakdown and you can't seem to understand him. Why is he making it sound like it was a bad thing? "I am. I'm trying to help you."

"You're just lying!" He accuses, his voice cracking from the intensity, stepping back. Like he couldn't trust you. Like you hurt him. "You say some shit, making me feel like you want me, and then you go off and do other shit that proves you don't."

You're not quite sure he's talking about you anymore. It's something more. It doesn't take a lot to figure out who.

You approach him calmly. "Is that what Ward is doing to you?"

Rafe doesn't answer you, staring back glassy-eyed with choked breaths. He's hurt. He feels unwanted. He can't explain it. Sarah returning home, to open arms, confirms something he’s always trying to push away. It means that his life will be more difficult; his goal of getting the family company more challenging. Because he knows, he will always be the second choice to the golden child.

And if you have that, who the fuck needs Rafe Cameron?

"You... you are good." You begin slowly, watching the way he shakes his head in doubt. "I told them the truth. You're an incredible businessman and you care about your company. I saw it at the country club's dinner, I saw it when we were getting ready and I see it now. What's the problem with me letting other people know?"

His insecurities are suffocating him. "You don't believe that."

"I do." You affirm with a nod, stepping closer to him. "I don't lie about that stuff. I admire it, that's why I remember."

His breath is cut short at your admission. Several beats take place before he speaks again. “You admired me?"

You laugh, the melodic resonance making everything feels better, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders while he leans against the sink. "Don't let it get to your head," you warn with a soft smile. "But, yeah. It reminds me of me; how much you care about your family's business."

Rafe doesn't say anything, his broken gaze finding yours. They trace over your features, trying to read any sense of insincerity in them, only to find none.

"Your family's business?" He prompts quietly, using this opportunity to gateway into learning more about you. To let him in—that’s how you earn his trust. You falter.

"Yeah." You admit weakly. Every bone in your body is screaming at you to remain silent, to keep him out, but you can't help but continue forth. "I inherited it after my parents' passed away in an accident."

His eyes widen, at you revealing this glimpse into your past. Discomfort settles in your stomach, at letting another person in, but you can't help the way your chest lightens ever-so-slightly.

You don't want to deal with it.

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Tender and warm, Rafe's hands immediately draw up to capture your waist before reciprocating the touch. It turns hungry, passionate, and when you pull away, breathless, you flick your gaze up to him.

"Want to know something else?" You ask in a whisper. "I haven't stopped thinking about your cock all night."

Rafe feels himself hardening at your confession. You have that effect on him now. “Yeah?”

You nod with a timid smile, playing with the buckle of his belt. “Can I blow you?”

He couldn’t say no to that.

Unbuckling his pants, you remove them within seconds. The corner of his lips quirks into a smirk. “Eager, are we?”

“I told you.” You say as you pull down his boxer-briefs, his cock springing free as your hand immediately wraps around the length, stroking slowly. “I want you in my mouth.”

Rafe can’t begin to express how it makes him feel hearing you say those words, your attention set on getting him as hard as possible.

Instead, he removes his blazer and sets it on the floor.

Your smile grows. “Didn’t know you would throw away good money like that,” you tease, glancing at the jacket that is probably worth more than your entire closet. “Thought Kooks have to take care of their things.”

“I am.”

The knot in your stomach tightens. You know you shouldn't like the possession behind Rafe's voice but you rub your thighs together to satiate the feeling. He notices, his arrogance grows tenfold. "Does my girl like that? Does she like knowing I own her?"

Rafe is probing you but there's a sense of comfort in knowing that he has this effect on you. When you quiet down, his words being too real and your hands stopping at the base of his cock, he wonders if he went too far.

Until you whisper, "I like it when you take control."

"Yeah?" He can feel his skin pricking with excitement. "The girl who always has something to say wants me to tell her what to do?"

Your cheeks flush with heat before you nod. "Good. Now, kneel."

You sink to the floor, your satin-covered knees pressed against his jacket to soften the blow of the hard ground. When you align yourself in front of his groin, you dribble a bit of spit over the head before spreading it over his length. Rafe lets out a low moan.

"I like hearing how I make you feel." You sigh fondly. "It lets me know how to please you."

Fuck, Rafe thought to himself, the idea of you getting turn-on by pleasuring him sends all the blood straight to his pelvis. You feel him twitch under your palm.

"And I think you like that too," you observe with a small smile, "you like having me as your own personal slut, don't you?"

He doesn't get to answer before you tilt your gaze up to meet his, taking his cock in your mouth. Rafe lets out a groan, the admission of your words tonight igniting desire all over his body.

The way your eyes connect with his as you slowly take him in, inch by inch, drives him insane. Your hand syncs with your mouth as you cup him, twisting and rubbing.

"Shit," he whimpers, the way you squeeze him feels incredible while your head sinks deeper, causing a small gag to form from the back of your throat. "That feels so good, baby."

The praise goes straight to your core. Your thighs are slick with your own arousal, aching, but you refuse to move till he comes. Your tongue flicks over his length, rolling around his tip.

"You're doing so well." He grunts, his voice thick as his fingers grips at the root of your hair, his climax quickly approaching. "Just like that, I love hearing the way you gag on my cock."

You do it again, louder, this time triggering a guttural moan from him.

Your technique grows more confident as your hands fall to play with his balls, and your head bobs up and down his shaft. When your cheeks hollow to add suction, it doesn't take long before he feels his muscles tightening. He's close.

"Are you going to swallow for me, baby?" Rafe rasps, causing your heavy-lid eyes to find his once again. "I know you can."

You nod. "Yes."

His hot cum shoots to the back of your throat in fast spurts while you take it all. His moans complement his orgasm, riding out with loud praises and noises you can't help but fuel your own desire.

When you swallow all of it, you pull back, his softening cock pops out of your mouth. Your hands settle on the flat of your thighs and you look up to him with doe eyes to ask. "Better?"

Panting, he answers. "Not even close."

He reaches down and hauls you to the sink, making you giggle at the way he handles you. Your ass settles on the granite counter and Rafe wastes no time to pull you to the ledge, pushing your dress up to your hips to reveal your glistening, bare cunt.

"You're this wet from sucking dick?" He teases, massaging your slick inner thighs. You bite your bottom lip, nodding along.

"Just yours."

He loves it. Tonight, you're simply perfect. Saying everything he wants to hear. Everything he needs to feel. He gets hard again, so easy under your influence.

You notice, glancing down to his hardening erection with a teasing smile. "Already?"

He chuckles, capturing you into a kiss. He tastes himself on your lips, the acknowledgement signals a primal urge, while his knuckles brushes against your throbbing clit, causing you to jerk into his hand.

"Rafe." You whimper, breaking from the kiss, your eyes meeting his with desperation. The feeling between your legs growing unbearable by the second. "Please, make me come."

This time, in a bathroom, your plea is met with a different consideration. He smiles before nodding once, lining the crown of his cock against your wet folds. "Only 'cause you ask so nicely."

Rafe pushes in, slow and steady to let you adjust to his girth, while your hands clasps around him for stability, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. Then, his thrusts begin to speed up.

"You like that, baby?" He asks, his free hand rubbing your swollen clit simultaneously to his penetration. You nod vigorously, your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. "Your pussy feels so nice around me."

"Like it was made for you." You supply with a moan.

“That's fucking right. Like it's mine."

His hand raises to the cleavage of your dress, pushing down the satin to reveal your tits. He's never been happier to know you decided not to wear a bra and pinches a pierced nipple between his fingers, causing your head to tip back with a raspy mewl. "Just like these." He adds, knowing the way he's playing with them will make you reach your peak faster. "Fuck, these are my favorite things."

The way he's teasing you, fucking you, feels so good, but you can't help but release a small laugh at his assertion. "Of course they would be, you whore," you say with a wispy smile.

He abandons his play, causing you to let out a small whine, when his hand cups your cheeks, jutting out your pout. "Nah, this mouth is." He closes the distance, kissing you, before drawing out your bottom lip with his teeth. The act is so surprising, you clench around his cock.

It causes a shudder to pass through him.

"God, you feel perfect," he confesses, his thrusts growing less controlled as he's deep inside of you, feeling every little response between your legs. "You should've been mine a long time ago."

The fabric of your dress falls back over to your pussy while Rafe wants nothing more than to watch how he pumps in-and-out of you. The frustration of the cover makes him roughly push back the material against your hips.

"I'm going to rip your fucking dress off."

"Don't you dare." You warn with a weak glare, the pleasure building too strongly for you to feel any genuine hostility.

"Thought you didn't want it?"

"I never said that."

"What is it, then?"

A moan ripples out of you as you lean forward, your lips fall next to the shell of his ear in a whisper. "My boyfriend got it for me."

Fuck, that got him and he spills in you, this time, the motion leaving him more jerkily and unstable than before. Despite the overwhelming sense of pleasure coursing through his body, he isn't finished. Knowing you haven’t came, his fingers fall back down to your clit and begin to rub in tight, fast circles, trying to help you reach your own orgasm.

You do, following quickly after, that he feels your walls clenching around his warming cock. When you ride out your high, you're breathless as he pulls out.

There's silence, and you expect him to get dressed and leave the room, but he surprises you when he focuses on helping you clean up. From wiping away his cum around your thighs, to fixing your hair, and helping you off the counter.

You don't know how to feel from the gesture; your heart clenching from his gentle acts.

Only then does he redress himself, picking up the wrinkled blazer off the ground and throwing it over his shoulders.

"Wait," you reach out, pulling him closer to the sink as you grab a wet paper towel and wipe away all the smudges of your lipstick over his lips. Your voice is soft. "I can't let you go out there looking like that."

He watches you as you work, wiping away any residues clean.

"I don't want to go back out there." He admits quietly. "I just wanna leave. Are you good with that?"

The question came at a surprise. "You're asking for my permission?"

He rolls his eyes at the look on your face, his shoulders relaxing. "Either that or you're going to get pissed at me again for taking you out before you're ready."

You chuckle. "We can leave. I just have to say goodbye to the housewives first."

"Had to get the word out for your bar?"

"Nope." You shake your head, realization striking you that, throughout this entire night, you spent no time thinking about yourself. Your hand lands over the doorknob, and just before you twist to open, you spare a glance over your shoulders at Rafe. "We were talking about you."

You leave first and Rafe's momentarily stunned that you used your one opportunity to talk about him rather than advertise your bar as a catering option for these plentiful Kooks. His chest warms and he soon follows you back to the ballroom where you pay your farewells.

Off on the side, trying to avoid his father, Rafe waits.

When someone taps his shoulder, his jaw clenches, not wanting to face Ward, only to turn and find the hotel magnate standing before him.

"We talked it through." The man declares as you pull away from the final housewife to return to your boyfriend’s side. "You got yourself a deal."

He hands Rafe a card, scribbled with a personal number at the top. The eldest Cameron reaches out to take the small card from him, rejoining their hands in a formal shake.

"Thank you, sir." Rafe expresses, keeping his voice neutral. The man nods.

"You got a good head on your shoulders. Keep it up." He declares, before nodding to you in recognition and leaves.

It takes a few moments for it to register. How it happened. How it worked out. When Rafe turns to you, your elation is too hard to contain, and you tackle him into a hug.

"You did it!" You beam, louder than the normal convention, and catch the attention of the nearby housewives who watch the interaction between the two with awing amusement. As you pull back, your hands clasps around his shoulders. "I'm so proud of you!"

Those words mean a lot to him. Especially now knowing that they're genuine coming from you. He doesn't know how to react, especially with the look on your face, the expression of complete pride from his success. "Really?"

You nod frantically, your cheeks hurting from how big your smile is. "What did you say to him? How did you convince him?"

His fingers mess with the business card in his hands and he shrugs. "I told him what you told me."

You can't believe Rafe listened to you. "So, what are you going to do with the land? Are you still going to build alligator-infested houses?"

He knows you're teasing him but he chuckles anyway. His adrenaline comes down to a neutralized comfort. Safe. He can't help it. Your presence, your words, and your kindness drives something deep in him.

"No." He shakes his head. "We're going to use the difference to invest into the fishing industry on the docks, benefitting from their stock value."

What he's not saying is that your argument held value to him. That his decision to help the Pogues is because of you. But, you take it either way, the announcement bringing a realm of good news for the first time in a long time.

Your chest is overwhelmed with such gratitude, you almost confess something you shouldn't.

"That's good." You settle with a gentle smile, clearing your throat. "I guess this means we can both go home to a satisfying conclusion, huh?"

That was the goal. But now he's not too sure he wants to depart from you this early. Knowing who you truly are—not just putting up a mask and caring about him in public, but genuinely proud of him, supporting him, always in his corner—he doesn't want to separate just yet.

So, he does something out of his comfort zone.

"It's getting late and it'll be a long drive to your house. You should just stay over."

This is the second time he's asking you, holding his breath to see how you would respond, and when your smile softens just a bit, almost in a way to let him down, he thought he got rejected again.

You know you shouldn't. You know this is only going to complicate your personal and professional lives. You know you should go home and place some distance from Rafe, to save you and your heart.

But something in you clench about the offer. It feels too similar to hope.

You nod. "That sounds like another great idea of yours."

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Navigation — Part 06 | Part 07 | Part 08

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drstrangefictions · 5 years ago

Text

Dating Hive Would Include...

Alveus, his real name, the one you love to say to catch him off guard.

It always works, then it's right back to Hive.

If not for H.Y.D.R.A, you would not have met Hive.

Gideon Maleck had to introduce you to Hive, you were a threat having not been present upon his arrival.

He asked for you while regaining his strength, just to talk.

You were the first to see his true form, and you preferred his true form to Grant Ward.

He loves how in-tune with nature you are, almost as if you are what the humans call "mother nature".

You are the first and only inhuman he doesn't sway.

You seem to just understand him and his purpose.

He is fond of how you are "Mission this, mission that" and how you used to be "If you don't succeed you will suffer long before I kill you."

You used to agree with what he was trying to accomplish.

You wanted nothing more than to be accepted in the world as an inhuman.

When you realized he was more wrong than right, you sought S.H.I.E.L.D for help.

"You can trust me, because I'll tell you everything you need to know. Plans, locations. He's right, but he's going about this the wrong way. I wish I saw it sooner." "We'll trust you only if the information you give us is correct. Keep playing your part and update us when new things come along."

You kept S.H.I.E.L.D updated right under his nose.

You didn't go unnoticed, when Daisy noticed she took immediate action.

Hive was furious about that attack on you, but decided against doing anything since Daisy was right.

"What did I do wrong, (Y/N)? Tell me." "It's not you. You just need a change of plans, that's all." "You're going behind my back and feeding them information and I'm the one who needs to change plans?"

If you were going to turn in Hive, he might as well use S.H.I.E.L.D to his advantage, right?

Right, and he did.

He was trapped in the ATCU gel containment, he turned some agents into primitive inhumans, and they freed him.

You stopped him at a quinjet, Daisy was ready to fight him and beg to be taken back, but waited for you to leave.

"Alveus, please-" "Do not lecture me (Y/N)." "I won't. I just want to try something. Try to get you to stop so we can run away together. Live in God knows where. Away from the society that outcasted you long ago and still does today." "You think you can sway me." "I thought I could convince you to come with me and forget everyone. What we wanted." "This has to be done."

You left and the rest was up to fate, you believed.

You stepped away from the aircraft and just watched.

In your hand was a pendant from his primitive days, something to remember him by.

"I'm sorry it had to end this way." "No, I'm sorry. If not for me, they both would still be here. Lincoln, he means a lot to Daisy. Just as Alveus means a lot to me." "Will you be okay?" "Don't worry about me, I've seen this coming for years. Alveus was never meant to succeed, I just wish I could have swayed him."

#hive x reader #alveus x reader #hive x female reader #alveus x female reader #marvel cinematic universe x reader #marvel cinematic universe x female reader #mcu x reader #mcu x female reader #dating hive would include #dating alveus would include #agents of shield #mcu agents of shield #daisy johnson #gideon maleck #grant ward #lincoln campbell #hydra #atcu

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lightwing-s · 2 years ago

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

pairing: titans!dick grayson x female!reader

summary: a family, a home, was all Yn ever wanted, and when she got it, she had to part ways. coming back shouldn't hurt, shouldn't be this hard. Dick Grayson shouldn't be an asshole, but she shouldn't love him either. word count: 3,5k warnings: cursing, mentions of death, grief, family issues , and my absolute lack of knowledge of green lantern’s lore.

a/n: definitely not proof read, and it's 3:05 in the morning, so pls be kind with any errors lol a/n 2: updated on january 4th, 2024.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

Outer space was vast. Immense with emptiness, and yet still full of life.

The last five years of Yn’s life were spent in this vast nothingness, travelling, patrolling, protecting. The bit of galaxy that was gifted to her by the guardians was her place to keep safe, and the same place where once she had felt safe herself, before discovering the magnitude of this emptiness and the dangers it hid from humans.

Never in her young life had she expected it to take this turn, to be granted with a ring and the responsibility to be one of Earth’s protectors. She had just turned fourteen when gifted with a ring of hope, but never did she doubt her abilities, embracing the new challenge with a bravery the guardians hadn’t seen before from someone so young, and teaming with Earth’s own green lantern on the quest to defend the planet.

If only Hal knew the young girl was the one in need of defending.

As many heroes' stories go, Yn Sn was the product of a tragic life, having lost her parents at a very early age, and since then bouncing from one foster family to another. The “family” she had found herself in at that point didn’t have anything on family and on foster. They couldn’t care if she went missing for days, only to return bruised and in pain. They just cared for the money in their bank account at the end of the month.

As far as she knew, she was always alone.

Hal Jordan was the first thing to come close to family for Yn. Although reluctantly at first, he took her in and trained the young girl to become a lantern just as good as him. With time, he turned into an older brother, constantly worrying that the life of a lantern would interfere with her personal life, worrying if she was missing school or getting in trouble with her parents for disappearing for too long, but she would constantly brush off these worries, telling him they were with all that.

However, when he found out the truth, he got furious. He took her in, made her his ward “Just as a friend had done with a young boy he’d met, Yn”. But Hal was often away, be it for lantern duties or his own work and personal life, so he was concerned she would feel too alone in their apartment. That she would feel left out.

That’s when he heard about the Titans from Batman, the group of young heroes created by his own protégé, Robin, and a few others. Considering they were all of close age, he hoped they would get along, that she would make friends and finally build her own chosen family. So, with much arguing and persuasion, he took her to San Francisco to join the young team.

At first, Y/n was careful with the other teen heroes. She didn’t know if she could trust them, or even if they trusted her. But with each training session and with every mission she eventually grew to appreciate their company and little by little they became that family Hal had so wished for her.

However, even within the best families there’s always conflict and a certain level of distrust, and her greatest source of both came in the form of a green, red, and yellow costumed boy: Dick Grayson. The famous boy wonder, self-proclaimed team leader, the one that could get on her nerves like nobody else.

Always reprimanding her, always pointing out her flaws. He was unbearable, and sometimes she wished to punch him so hard he’d end up on the other side of the galaxy.

“I told you to stay in formation, not to go rogue and almost ruin the mission, lantern.” He scolded her after their most recent encounter with Cheshire.

“But I got to her anyway, and also disarmed the bomb. You should be thanking me for doing your job, and much better than you ever would.” She confronted him, knowing very well how to trigger the boy.

“We are a team, Yn. T-E-A-M,” he spat out. “Supposedly, these work together, but you wouldn’t have known, as you’re trapped too deep into your own ego to care for anyone else.” Pointing his finger in her face, his own getting red and spit jumping out of his mouth.

Gosh he hated how she could so easily rile him up, how she held a power over him that made everything good turn bad with single a snap of her fingers.

“My ego?!” She laughed, getting even closer to Dick than he already was. “Look who’s talking, Mr. I made myself team captain because I clearly think I’m above everyone else. You think so highly of your plans that…”

“Enough, you two!” Donna interrupted, rubbing at her temples. “If you keep doing this after every mission, I don’t know what I’m capable of doing.”

During her time with the Titans, Yn had to withhold herself from arguing with Robin 80% of the time. The other 20% were times they were sent on missions separately and she finally could feel at peace. But somehow it worked. The team ran as a connected unit, never missing a beat, one complementing the other as if they were parts of the same body.

But that didn’t last long. They worked well until loss and grief broke the connection entirely. With Garth’s death much of that confidence and team spirt was lost to fear, anger, and distrust, and there seemed to be no fixing that.

“If only you had listened to me. If we had taken care of Deathstroke like I wanted to, Garth would’ve been alive today!” Yn screamed at Robin, as her voice trembled, her eyes soaked, and tears started rolling down her cheeks like a waterfall. She had told him, warned countless times, that they couldn’t deal with Deathstroke by simply doing whatever shit he and Batman did in Gotham. Slade was too dangerous to be left alive, and death was the only way to get rid of him for good.

“So, you want to blame me for something that isn’t my fault? You were the one that made him angry in the first place.” he responded.

“We all pissed him off, Grayson. Don’t try to put this on me. I could have been as much of a target as Garth and Donna were…”

“Don’t say this…”

“Or even y-you!” her voice barely made it to the end of this sentence, a lump forming in her throat impeding her from continuing to argue. Tired of everything, exhausted in fact, Yn stormed out of the room and ran to her bedroom, collected her few belongings in a rush and made her way out of the tower.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” asked the Boy Wonder, his voice was shaky and covered in a feeling Yn couldn’t fully comprehend.

“Away!” she replied rashly.

“Away from where?“

“From everything! The tower. San Francisco. Earth for all that matters. I want out of here!”

Dick was sure her screams could be heard all the way on the street, and just as loud as that was the sound of his heart breaking, shattering on the floor like broken glass. The team was over, and there was nothing he could do about it except watch it crumbling down.

Leaving Earth all those years ago wasn’t an easy decision. After all, it was her home. But with the end of the Titans and the destruction of the only thing she deeply cared for in this world, there was nothing holding her down to stay anyways. The galaxy was now her home, where she travelled and visited so many planets, she didn’t even know were real.

Hal tried to bring her back to Earth with him an uncountable amount of times, but all of them were unsuccessful, and he learned that leaving her be was the best he could do to allow her to heal. When she felt ready, she would return.

And then, finally, after a little bit more than five long years, Yn felt confident in herself enough to consider going back. It was about time, she missed their sun, the food was always superior then anywhere else, and she had to know how he was. Go back to Earth, she would often think, You have no home here, Y/n.

Upon her return, she expected things to have changed. She expected to see that her old friends had moved on from the crime fighting world, from the hero gig, and left the Titans just a memory. But to her surprise, the present didn’t appear to be too different from what was left all those years ago.

Turning the TV inside her new and tiny apartment, the news shows were all about the apparent reopening of the Titans Towers, about Robin going rogue in Detroit and his return to the city San Francisco with intentions of bringing the once beloved team back. Y/n knew Dick was stubborn, but gosh he could go beyond expected. Why would he do that? Who would do that with him? Did Donna or Dawn or Hank come back too? Are they all stupid brainless masochists?

She knew it would sound hypocritical of her, after all she’s still in her position as a Blue Lantern, patrolling a patch of the galaxy where Earth belonged to. But she had no choice, she made an oath to protect it and if there was one thing Yn was never going to break was a promise.

If it wasn’t the oath, Y/n would have quit five years ago. Or maybe not. Being a hero filled a hole in her heart that left untouched would be filled with pain and hurt instead, so maybe she would stay and keep it filled with everything else but her true feelings.

All those questions were eating up her brain and wouldn't let her sleep at night. So, deciding to rid herself of all doubt, she searched for the one she wished she had left behind all those years ago.

Dick had just turned off the last light in the Titans Tower, the whole team probably sound asleep by that point, as he so wished to be.

Restarting the Titans was an unexpected gift, but also the reconquering of a number of responsibilities that were leaving him gradually more exhausted day by day. A good night's sleep might solve his problem just temporarily, but the temptation of a good rest was always irrefutable.

Just as he entered his bedroom, he noticed a shadow. The shadow of a human, a person he couldn’t identify in the darkness, and his fight instincts kicked out. But before he could’ve attempted anything, the shadow’s sweet voice sent a shiver down his spine:

“When I came back to Earth, I expected it to be in a better position than the one I had left it on, but it appears that humans are much clingier to the past as I thought they would be.” It told him, the owner of the voice someone he hadn’t expected to hear and see any time soon, but that he would have recognized even if hundreds of years had passed.

“Yn?”

“So, you want to bring back the team that took so much from us?” She questioned, and although she was still hiding in the dark, he could notice her trembling chin from just her voice. She questioned him incredulously, still not daring to look away from the huge floor to ceiling windows. “You want to take kids into the crime fighting world just like the man you hate the most did to you?”

Finding Yn Sn in his bedroom wasn’t in his yearly bingo card, nor his decade one. In fact, he truly thought he would never see her again, with how upset she was the last time they had talked. But, ironically, here she was and just as angry as the last time they’d talked. Too much for hanging on to the past, huh?

“This is not what you think.” He declared and Yn turned to him abruptly.

“Explain to me, then,” she demanded, a dark humor hovering her voice. “Why did you take those kids in?”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t start fighting crime yourself as a teenager…”

“That’s different, “ she interrupted, her voice only getting louder. “I got chosen by the ring to defend the universe, it’s a different situation.”

“Don’t come to me with your “I’m special” bullshit.” Dick made quotation marks with his own finger, feeling the anger climb his spine. “Even if it wasn't for the ring, you'd have been just like us, and you know it.”

“Well, now I know better. Kids are not supposed to be fighting crime, or don’t you remember what happened the last time we were in San Francisco?” Shaking her head judgingly, she adds. “You’re unbelievable, Grayson.”

“And you still fail to see the bigger picture, Yn.“ Dick counter argued. “I’m not doing this for the sake of having a team back. I’m doing it for Rachel and Gar, for Kory. They’re strays just like one day you and me were, or did you forget how it was to not have a family and desperately want one?”

The mention of a family had Yn frozen, standing still and staring right back at him without knowing what words she should muster. He knew it was her weak spot, he knew that through it he could make her understand, so poking her wound was his only option.

And he was right. Y/n didn’t forget. The Titans were not just a superhero team, they were a family just like no other, built of strays with no hopes or expectations, those who lived in someone else’s shadows and desperately tried to strike on their own. Even so, the consequences of bringing the team back were far larger than one would think, and Yn so badly wanted to avoid any more heartbreak.

“Still… Don’t you mind the stakes? Don’t you remember the pain anymore? The hole left by Garth’s loss, do you want to feel it again, Dick?” her voice got softer, pain evident in every syllable. “Because you know it will come, eventually. Much stronger than the first time.”

“It’s a risk worth taking.” He replied honestly. If it wasn’t him, then someone else would do it, otherwise they’d be allowing too much shit to hit happen that he couldn’t even contemplate what future it would lead them to.

“Really?! You wanna risk children’s lives, your life? Do you wanna risk all that pain in the name of a mission that never seems to have an end?” She spat out, anger returning to her tone. “You had quit, I saw it. And you have no idea how jealous that made me because I couldn’t do the same. Travelling through space did nothing to soothe the emptiness I felt inside, no crime fighting would fix my heart and you tell me you’re willing to go back to it all when you were finally free?” the burning sensation in her eyes told her news she hoped wouldn’t happen, but at this point, crying was inevitable.

“We can’t be sure if something is gonna happen. It’s a risk worth taking because so far, it has worked for us. We did lose Garth, but remember how much more we had conquered?”

“Having you say Garth's death was worth it, Dick…” she shook her head before being interrupted.

“You know it was not what I meant. Stop twisting my words.”

Dick was growing infuriated. It doesn’t matter how much time passes, Yn Sn is still going to try to paint him as the bad guy when he just wants to get on her good side.

“Because you are so damn capable of keeping everyone alive, right? How about your own life, who’s gonna protect it then?”

“My life is the smallest of my problems.” Dick stated nonchalantly, surprising Yn a little.

That line, that simple sentence had Y/n’s heart shattered. Did he think so little of himself to consider his life worthless? Because to her, his life was worth millions. His life was worth putting hers in danger or sacrificing an entire planet for.

"Don’t say that!" screamed the girl fiercely. "Losing Garth already had me broken. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you too!”

Her sight was blurred due to the tears that allocated themselves in her eyes, uncontrollable, untamed. Her voice felt hoarse, weak, the lump on her throat making her words barely leave her mouth. I am weak, she thought. He knows.

And he did now.

He felt nauseous at first. If his thought process was right, if what she said was real and not a product of his imagination, she… liked him, she cared for him. Liked him enough to not want to lose him, even hypothetically.

Dick was astounded. Never would he have believed it, if anyone had told this him before tonight, that Yn Sn was in any level into him, he’d tell them they were insane. He thought she would rather see him burn over something like this. But it all made to him, all the fights they had after he put himself in dangerous positions during missions, all those arguments when he ended up hurt. She cared about him, him.

"Yn, what do you mean?" he asked carefully, approaching her ever so slowly. He feared if she saw what he was attempting to do that she would flee like she did before.

"Nothing…" she said while drying her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "I have to go."

She felt disoriented. She had guarded herself so well all her life, and here comes this stupidly good-looking guy, with his stupidly charming smile, breaking her walls and making her feel so… small and insignificant. Trying to recompose herself, she fixed her shirt and rushed past her old “friend”, only to be stopped as she felt his strong hands holding her in place.

"I know I would’ve gone mad if I had lost you." he confided.

Coming onto his own senses, Dick realized all he wanted was her safety too. Her health, her happiness, her smiles every time the team would fight for the front seat in the plane, the remote control or about what movie they were going to watch. He wanted to see the sparkle in her eyes every time she would make the most eccentric creations with her ring. He wanted her to have the family he knew she had always wished for, he wanted her cared for and loved. And even more, he wanted to be one providing her all of it.

"I wouldn’t have made it if you were the one to have gone. If you were gone… so would I.”

Hearing his confession, Yn body stopped working, her heart stopped pounding and her mind kept repeating his words. Her body didn’t respond to her head saying go, or even to her heart telling her to kiss him, right then, right there.

All these years of hatred made her believe he truly despised her. She thought he would hate her for leaving, for being selfish, for hurting him. She hated that pain and herself for feeling it, making her a fucking coward. But all this time, he was hurting just like her. He was a coward too, she thought. A silly, stupid, and lovable coward.

"You are incredibly stupid, you know." she blurted out, and he laughed.

"And you are the hardest person to love in this whole entire world."

The four-lettered word threw a burst of energy into Yn’s body, awakening it and her thoughts. Her body erupted with an energy not even the ring had made her feel, and without another thought, without wasting anymore time, without waiting five more years, she kissed him.

Passionately, lovingly, intensely. She kissed him for all the lost years, for all the accumulated anger he made her feel. For never stopping being that boy full of hope and determination, and the hardest of heads she’s even known.

Yn loved Dick Grayson. She always did. And from the way he kissed her back, she knew he did it too. That his words were not lies of his to try and get her back. She felt his love, his passion. She wanted to feel it more and more and more…

"Stay with me…" he begged, voice mixed between heavy breaths. "With the Titans."

His forehead rested on hers, his eyes closed, as if praying she'd say yes. Even if her mind kept telling her it was a bad idea, that bringing back the team was dangerous, her newfound softness for him pushed her into saying yes, into staying. Into building again, the family she once had, but now in the right way, now with him by her side.

With a sigh and a desire of getting intoxicated on him once more, a desire that was making her lose all her senses and certainly her mind, Y/n answered:

"I’ll have to think about it."

Unbelievable. With a shake of his head and a soft, breathy laugh, Dick held her face in his hands and kissed her once more, giving her what her eyes were begging and knowing damn well this time she was gonna stay. She was gonna be with him, and there was no way he’d let her go.

She was here, with him. At home. He was her love, her friend, her home.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #dc titans x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x you #dc titans #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff #dc titans imagine #titans! dick grayson #dick grayson angst #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson x female! reader #dick grayson fanfiction

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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

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Names (Steve Rogers x Female!Reader)

Summary: You and Steve name your twin babies and you choose two very special, meaningful names.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Warnings: Just to be safe I am going to say this is slightly AU, please do not come after me Marvel gatekeepers. Also, it is Dad!Steve. Need I say more than that?

Length: 567 words

A/N: Okay, last Steve fic I had sitting in my drafts, I promise! Just felt like writing something cute and really fluffy today because my mental health went into the bin this weekend.

“I can’t believe they’re actually here,” Steve murmured softly.

He gazed down lovingly into the sweet little face of his tiny, newborn daughter.

From the moment she’d entered the world, he refused to let her out of his arms.

“I can’t believe it either,” You agreed, letting out a sigh of content. Your son, who had arrived not too long after his sister, was sleeping soundly on your chest. You lifted your hand and very delicately brushed your fingertips through his tufts of soft, dark blonde hair. Although you were told that they weren’t identical twins, both babies shared the same, dark blonde haired trait. You looked forward to discovering what other traits your children would share—although Steve had expressed on more than one occasion that he wanted them to look like you, you secretly hoped that they would take more after him instead. You smiled at the thought of your two babies inheriting his cerulean blue eyes. “They’re perfect, Steve. They’re both absolutely perfect.”

Steve leaned down and gave you a gentle kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips lingering against yours.

Your heart had never felt so incredibly warm and full. “I love you too.”

As he kissed you again, the door to your delivery ward opened, startling you.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a female nurse apologized as she walked into your ward.

“It’s quite alright,” Steve assured her, drawing himself back up to full height.

“Are we going to be discharged from the facility soon?” You asked her, eagerly.

She nodded, holding up the data pad in her hand. “Yes, but first, we need to get some more information to finish filling out birth records for the babies.”

You and Steve glanced at each other.

“Names,” You realized with a gasp. “Steve, we haven’t given them names yet!”

He frowned, glancing at the nurse. “I’m sorry, could we have some more time?”

The nurse chuckled. “Not to worry, Captain. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Steve sat down on the bed beside you as she disappeared from your ward.

His movement caused your baby girl to fuss, but he effortlessly soothed her with a gentle rocking of his strong arms and a few loving words. “It’s alright,” he cooed, “I’ve got you, my little girl. It’s alright, Papa’s got you.”

Your heart swelled with pure joy.

There was never a doubt in your mind that Steve would be an amazing father.

“So,” You broke the lingering silence. “Do you have any names in mind?”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Well, I have an idea for our daughter.”

“What is it?”

“Sarah.”

“Sarah,” You repeated the name and smiled. Naming the baby after his mother seemed like the perfect idea. “I like it, Steve. I love it, actually.”

Steve seemed slightly surprised by your positive reaction. “Really? You do?”

“Of course. It’s a beautiful and classic name.”

“Okay. And what about for our boy?”

You lightly touched your son’s back as you quietly thought it over in your mind.

It didn’t take long before you realized that your choice was the obvious one.

“We should name him after you,” You decided, confidently. “Grant.”

Steve’s blue eyes instantly filled with pride. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” You nodded, grinning. “I think Grant suits our son very well.”

“It’s settled then.” Steve’s grin matched your own. “Welcome to the world, Sarah and Grant Rogers.”

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers fic #dad!steve rogers

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navybrat817 · 4 years ago

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Visible Mark - Part 3

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers Summary: Being Bucky and Steve’s best girl feels too good to be true. Word Count: Over 4.9k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, groping, dirty talk, tension, feels, possessive behavior, slight angst, minor harassment, tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?) A/N: Welcome to the next part of my tattoo AU! This is follow up to Visible Mark Part 2 and the end of Phase 2! Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Thank you, lovely! Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nix-akimbo ! This AU wouldn’t exist without them. And divider by the beautiful @firefly-graphics !

I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing schedule and updates there.

I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here or archiveofourown under my same username, it has been reposted without my permission. 18+ Please!!! By reading this, you agree that you are at least 18 years old. Enjoy, lovelies!

You glanced at your phone as you pushed your cart down the aisle, checking an item off your shopping list. You somehow managed to sneak out early to get groceries. It wasn’t easy considering that your boyfriends traded off cuddles. Seriously, how did they manage to keep you in an octopus hold through the night? And how were they always so warm?

Smiling to yourself, you stopped to grab a couple of bags of chips. You made sure to get their favorite flavors. They were always thinking of you and you wanted to do the same for them. You knew the inevitable phone call with Peggy was coming, but you wanted to go about your day like normal and not let your imagination run wild. Before you could push your cart forward, you heard someone whistle behind you.

“Well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”

You turned around, a tight smile on your face as you saw Grant Ward and Billy Russo. They didn’t bother to hide that they checked you out, which made your skin crawl. The two of them always gave you bad vibes when you managed to see them. “Yeah. Fancy seeing someone at a grocery store,” you said, turning back to walk away.

“What’s the rush?” Billy asked as they followed.

“I don’t like to mingle in the aisles,” you replied.

“Surprised you’re out by yourself. Don’t you have Bucky and Steve attached at your hips now?” Grant chimed in.

Sighing, you stopped when Billy quickly walked around to the front of your cart. “Contrary to popular belief, they do let me out on my own,” you said sarcastically.

“Shit. So you really are fucking both of them?” Billy questioned, a dark smirk forming on his face as he leaned on the cart. You stiffened when you felt Grant right behind you, keeping your mouth shut tight.

“Always thought you were sort of innocent. Never pegged you as a slut," he whispered in your ear.

You inhaled sharply, the word making you feel cheap and dirty. Was that how people in town saw you? A little slut who wasn’t satisfied with one man? No. The people who cared, who mattered, supported you.

“If that’s what you’re into, we can show you a good time,” Billy leered, licking his lips.

You lifted your chin, refusing to let them demean you. "I'm not a slut. I’m their slut. Now get the hell out of my way.”

“I don’t think that’s what you really want,” Grant chuckled, brushing his fingers along your neck.

You were two seconds away from throwing your elbow back when you heard someone storm down the aisle. You felt Grant pull away and you wanted to burn the spot where he touched you. Billy instantly let go of the cart as well, his hands up as he backed away. You saw Thor come into view, meeting your gaze. The enormous blonde looked furious to see the other men so close to you. His brother, Loki, was close behind and looked bored as he took in the scene.

“Thor. Buddy. We don’t want any trouble,” Grant tried to placate.

“What is the meaning of this?” Thor asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder to push him further away from you.

“'What is the meaning of this?' What century are you in?” Billy mocked before the blonde swung his thunderous stare his way. “Lighten up. We were just talking.”

“Somehow I doubt you two are good conversationalists,” Loki said, looking at his brother. “But is this any of our business?”

“It is and it doesn’t look like she wants to talk to them,” Thor snapped, his gaze considerably softer as he looked at you. “Do you wish to speak to them?”

“They called me a slut. So… no, I don’t,” you answered confidently, mentally smirking when you saw Grant’s smile fall.

Loki looked more interested in the conversation now. “Did they? You two insulted the lady because…”

“She’s fucking Bucky and Steve. Is she fucking you, too? If she spreads her legs for those pricks, we figured-”

You gasped when Thor stepped forward and grabbed Grant by his collar. Did everyone forget they were in a grocery store? You didn’t want to be the cause of a fight.

“As entertaining as that would be, I wouldn’t,” Loki warned Billy when he moved to intervene.

“The next and only word out of your mouth will be an apology,” Thor ordered.

“Sorry,” Grant said through his teeth after a moment.

You nodded, not wanting to drag it out or make a big deal out of it.

“I better not see you bothering her again,” Thor said, letting Grant go. “Finish your shopping later. Consider yourself lucky that Barnes and Rogers weren’t here.”

“This isn’t over,” Grant whispered as he walked past you. Billy winked as he joined him, leaving you alone in the aisle with Thor and Loki. It took a moment to realize you were shaking. Was it anger? Disgust?

“Are you alright?” Thor gently asked.

You nodded quickly. “I’m fine. That was just… unexpected,” you said as evenly as possible, though you weren’t sure how you felt. Grant and Billy hardly ever talked to you, but their intentions were pretty clear.

“We can wait and walk you out,” Thor offered, ignoring Loki as he rolled his eyes.

Your chest tightened as you nodded again. “I’d appreciate that. I’m actually grabbing a few things to make for your party.”

“I’m glad you’ll be there and I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious,” he smiled.

You took your time walking through the rest of the store, much to Loki’s annoyance, as you listened to Thor tell a story about a recent tattoo he designed. He was so proud and animated as he spoke to you, like he was happy to have you as his audience. You found yourself much more relaxed by the time you went to pay. He even bagged the groceries for you as Loki checked the time. Similar to your boyfriends, the large blonde was a gentleman.

"Thanks again," you said as they walked you out.

"There is no need to thank us. Had it been my little one in there, Barnes and Rogers would have stepped in," Thor said, easily carrying your bags. "And I hope you do not take what they said to heart."

"I didn't," you tried to dismiss, glancing at Loki as he raised an eyebrow at you. He no longer looked annoyed as he studied you.

"I do question your taste since you threw in your lot with Barnes and Rogers," Loki said softly. "But doing so did not give Ward and Russo the right to treat you as if you were beneath them. Because you are not."

The truth was, you weren't ashamed of your relationship, but it hurt that others thought they could reduce you to something less than what you were. "That means a lot, Loki."

"Do not tell anyone I said that. I do have a reputation to uphold."

"You have a reputation?" Thor deadpanned.

You burst out laughing at Loki's expression. The pool party was going to be a blast.

"I'm gonna kill them," Bucky swore as he unloaded one of the bags.

"No, I'm gonna kill them," Steve corrected him, shutting the cupboard harder than normal.

"There's two of them. We can both kill them."

"Nat can help us hide the bodies."

"Sam can give us an alibi."

You sighed as you shut the fridge and turned to face them. Both of them were fuming, which was kind of adorable. You should have known Thor would let them know what happened before you go back. "You are not killing them. Though I wouldn't object to you holding them down and tattooing 'PRICK' across their foreheads."

The boys exchanged a look as your eyes went wide. "We could do that…" Bucky said seriously.

"I was kidding!" you said, wishing you kept your mouth shut because you wouldn't put it past them to actually try that.

"They can't just get away with calling you that," Steve said, running a hand through his hair. The agitated look on his face faded a bit when you went over and gave him a peck on the lips. "I'm serious, sweetheart. We won’t tolerate that."

"I get why you’re both angry. It upset me, too,” you told him as you took his hand. “But I’m not going to let you two start a fight over it.”

“But the fact that it upsets you is reason enough. If they say or try anything else…” Bucky stopped as you looked over your shoulder. You stood still for a moment when he clenched his metal hand before you moved, gently taking it in yours. Holding both of their hands seemed to anchor them almost as much as it did for you.

“If they do… you have my permission to do anything that doesn’t get you sent to jail,” you conceded.

“Really?” Steve asked with a smirk. “Sweetheart, do you have a mean streak?”

“Only against people who hurt the ones I love,” you answered, letting them go to unpack the rest of the last bag. You knew Grant’s words hurt them as much as they hurt you, but you hoped they didn’t read into what you just said. You didn’t even want to read into that. It was still too soon.

“Doll?” Bucky asked, reaching for your hand again when you finished.

“When are we calling Peggy? Now? I think we should call her now,” you said rapidly.

“Now?” Steve questioned.

“Yeah. Now is good,” you nodded, sidestepping them to leave the kitchen. You sighed as you walked to the living room. All the preaching about communication and you were closing yourself off for no reason, other than misplaced fear. Because what if something happened on this call? What if everything changed?

“Hey,” Bucky said from behind you before you could sit, turning you to face him. You lifted your gaze to meet his, seeing a bit of fear behind his eyes as well. “You have me. You know that, right?”

Your throat went dry as you nodded. Bucky didn’t let just anyone in, but he trusted and cared for you enough to open up. That meant everything. “And you have me, too.”

He tipped your chin as he brushed his lips against yours. The infinite gentleness as he wrapped his other arm around you made your heart race faster. It was a nice distraction, even if it was temporary.

“You sure you want to call now?” Steve asked again, his phone in hand as Bucky broke the kiss.

“Trying to avoid it?” Bucky responded, taking a seat and pulling you into his lap.

“I’m not. I want to know what's going on,” Steve promised as he sat down, twisting and turning the device between his fingers. “I don’t know what to expect, but I’m just glad you’re both here.”

“Wouldn’t be anywhere else, punk,” Bucky swore.

It was an honor to witness the bond between them, especially in moments like this. Steve was vulnerable, even if he did his best not to let it show. And Bucky would never leave him alone like that. You wouldn’t either.

“Whatever she has to say…” Steve swallowed as he looked at you. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and assure him that you had him. And that he had you, too.

“We’ll figure it out together,” you smiled softly, hoping it would ease him. Because it was the truth. No matter what was said, even if everything did change, you didn’t want to give up on either of them.

Steve exhaled as he touched the screen, making sure to put the call on speaker as it began to ring. The sound taunted you and you felt Bucky tense a bit at the second ring until you ran a hand through his hair. All three of you were on edge as it kept ringing. After all of that, would she not answer?

“Hello?”

You nearly gasped when you heard Peggy speak and it took everything in you not to answer.

“Hi, Peggy,” Steve said after a beat.

You weren’t sure if he meant for it to be there, but you heard affection in his tone. Or maybe he was just being polite. You couldn’t hold that against him. Once upon a time, he was going to marry her.

“Hello, Steve. It’s… good to hear from you,” Peggy said and there was no mistaking the affection from her. It made you lean in closer to Bucky, but you gave Steve a small smile.

“You kept calling. I owed it to you to call you back,” he pointed out, glancing at you as Bucky pulled you even closer. “But it isn’t just me here. Bucky’s here.”

“Peggy,” Bucky said as cordially as he could.

“James,” Peggy replied, some of the warmth gone. There was no lost love between them, clearly. “I don’t understand why-”

“-And our girlfriend.”

You thought the call dropped when a few seconds went by. Hearing Steve call you their girlfriend felt good. And the fact that he was upfront and unashamed, it felt even better.

“I apologize. Did you say our girlfriend?” she questioned and you wondered if she was judging her ex.

“I did,” Steve said with pride. Why did that send a rush of unexpected heat through you? “Bucky and I are both seeing her.”

You quietly introduced yourself, even though she didn’t ask for your name.

“Hello," Peggy said politely enough, but you wished you could have seen her face to get a true read on her. Was she surprised? Hurt? "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting to speak to anyone else. I… also wasn't expecting to hear that."

"I understand it may be a surprise, but whatever you have to say to me can be said to them. It isn’t to put you on the spot. I just don’t want any secrets between us.”

Peggy cleared her throat. “Why exactly did you think I called?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said quietly. “Can you tell me, please?”

“It’s Sharon, Steve. She’s sick.”

"Sharon?" you whispered.

“That’s her cousin,” Bucky whispered back.

“She’s sick?” Steve repeated, sitting up straight. Worry filled his eyes and you didn’t blame him.

“Yes. It’s a long story, but she’s going to Metro-General for treatment. I’ll be moving just outside of town to help until she gets back on her feet.”

For the first time since the conversation began, there was a waver in Peggy’s voice. It sounded like she was on the verge of tears. It made you shift a bit in Bucky’s lap. It felt like you were suddenly intruding, even though Steve made it clear he wanted you to be there.

Steve ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Peggy. I had no idea.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. She's strong. Always has been. I simply didn’t want you to be surprised if you saw me in town soon since I’ll be there in less than a week.”

“If there’s… anything you need, will you let us know?” Steve offered. You weren’t sure if it was out of kindness or sympathy.

“Of course, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It isn’t an imposition,” Bucky chimed in, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank you, James,” Peggy said. “And thank you, Steve.”

You leaned your head on Bucky’s shoulder, not paying attention as the conversation continued. Peggy’s cousin was sick. Peggy would be in town. You knew how vulnerable people could be when a loved one was ill.

“...Thank you again, Steve. I’m thankful that you returned my call.”

"I’ll help however we can. As a friend,” Steve emphasized, which made you lift your head. The loving smile he gave you filled you with guilt. He was trying to assure you because that was the kind of man he was.

“Of course. As a friend, yes. I… I should go for now. Goodbye, Steve.”

“Bye, Peggy.”

You slowly exhaled as you looked between Steve and Bucky. Both of them looked concerned, but also relieved. Had they feared the worst, too?

“Steve, are you okay?” you asked, leaning over and placing your hand over his.

“I think so,” he said, turning his hand over to hold yours properly. “I feel terrible for Sharon. She’s a good person.”

“She is. I hope she pulls through,” Bucky agreed. “You gonna be okay seeing Peggy around?”

“I’ll be fine. I have you two,” Steve answered, gazing at you. “Are you okay?"

"I am," you swore, that guilt creeping in again. He should have been concerned with himself, not you. "I think we all feel better knowing what's going on. And it meant a lot that you told her who I was."

"Because I have nothing to hide," Steve swore. You believed him.

"Are you worried about seeing her?" Bucky asked, kissing your temple again.

"I have nothing to worry about," you assured them.

"Thank you again for being here," Steve whispered.

You squeezed his hand as you leaned over, your kiss soft and deep as your lips touched. “Like Bucky said… we wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“Damn it, Clint!” Mandy shrieked when he did a cannonball into the pool, splashing her and Natasha in the process.

Clint shook his hair out as he surfaced. “Did I hear you scream, Mandy? Nat, is that how she sounds when you’re between her-”

“-I will end you, Barton,” the redhead threatened, grabbing a towel to dry herself and Mandy off.

You laughed as you sat on the edge of the pool, swirling your feet around in the water. Since the call, things felt lighter. Steve was more relaxed, even as he worried for Sharon. Bucky had an extra bounce in his step, knowing that things were secure and right. And the weather was perfect for the party.

“Thor, are you sure I can’t give you a hand?” you asked as he stood at the grill.

Thor took a swig of his beer, pointing at you with the bottle. “You brought a small feast. What kind of host would I be if I made you cook more?”

You smiled sheepishly. The boys teased you for going overboard with the side dishes, but you wanted to do something nice after Thor stepped in to help you at the store. “Are you sure?”

“You just soak up some sun,” Sam winked, going to help Thor. “Besides, your soldiers don’t want you to lift a finger.”

“My soldiers?” you repeated, leaning back on your hands.

“Yeah, your soldiers. And you’re their captain. You tell them to jump and they’re already in the air,” Sam chuckled.

“How high am I jumping?” Bucky teased, carrying a plate of hot dogs and burgers over. Steve was right behind him with drinks in hand.

Dignity be damned, you almost fell into the pool when you got the full view of them. Both were in their swim trunks, their muscles and tattoos on full display under the sun. How did they manage to keep taking your breath away? Would there be any oxygen left in your lungs?

“So… everything is okay,” Natasha stated as she took a seat beside you.

“What?” you asked, your gaze still on your boyfriends as they stood at the grill.

“Everything is okay,” she stated again, nudging you. “I know you talked to Peggy. And if it hadn’t gone well, I wouldn’t have expected you here.”

“Yeah. It’s okay,” you smiled as you pulled your gaze away. “I don’t know why I was so nervous. Actually, I know why, but it’s not like I had a right to feel that way.”

Nat shook her head a little. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Brush off your feelings like that?” she asked, nudging you again. “The two of them may share a brain cell, but you? You keep acting as if you’re not allowed to feel the way you do. Why?”

You swirled your feet again as you tried to piece together how you wanted to respond. “Because they keep showing me that I mean something to them and… I don’t want them to doubt that I’m the right girl for them.”

“You’ve really fallen for them, haven’t you?” Nat smiled to herself.

You glanced over at them again as they laughed at something that Sam said. Their smiles brought a smile to your own face. You could spend every day listening to those happy sounds and never grow tired of them. "I fell before they were mine."

“They make you happy, so let yourself have it.”

“I thought you and Mandy were going to stop assuring me,” you teased. “And speaking of… thank you for making her happy. She deserves it.”

Both of you turned your heads in time to see Mandy dunk Clint’s head under the water. “Yeah, she does,” Nat smirked, jumping in. “I should save his ass.”

You laughed as she swam over to help. She was right. Your feelings were valid and you deserved to be happy. And you had every right to have some fun, too.

Smirking to yourself, you stood up and waited until you knew Bucky and Steve looked your way. You slowly arched your back, stretching and closing your eyes as the sun rays hit you. After a moment, you opened your eyes and swayed your hips as you walked to the deeper end of the pool.

“Rogers! Watch it. You’ll burn it!” Loki snapped, making you smirk more.

You knew your boyfriends had their eyes on you and only you as you stopped and stretched again. You pushed your chest out, enticing them, but you didn’t look their way.

“Barnes, move!” Loki snapped louder. “Thor, get them away from the grill!”

You finally looked over, seeing a bit of smoke rise from the grill. It gave your men a dangerous look as they stared at you. You blew them a kiss before you jumped in. The water felt good as it washed over you, making you smile as you surfaced. Two splashes nearby had your heart racing as your boyfriends rose from the water seconds later. Watching the droplets drip down their skin, you suddenly felt like prey instead of the siren.

“What are you doing, doll?” Bucky asked as he swam close to you.

“Swimming,” you said sweetly, moving just out of his grip.

“You’re teasing us,” Steve corrected, nearly closing the distance in one stride.

“I’m doing no such thing,” you smiled before Bucky moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yes, you are,” he whispered, gently biting down on your earlobe. “You’re driving us crazy. You didn’t let us have you this morning.”

“I was busy cooking,” you reminded him as Steve moved in front of you.

“You’re not cooking now,” Steve pointed out, giving you a soft kiss. “You’re teasing us in that sexy two-piece. And you think you’re safe because our friends are here.”

“But here’s the thing,” Bucky whispered as Steve’s hand slid between your legs. “Our friends don’t care where we get you off… or when.”

Your eyes widened when your bikini bottoms were moved aside. Yeah, you were definitely the prey. And feeling those fingers slide along your folds, it wasn’t the pool making you wet. “Are you really…”

“Unless you don’t want us to. We never want you to be uncomfortable, sweetheart,” Steve swore. True to his word, his fingers went still. Bucky didn’t move a muscle either, simply keeping you warm between their bodies.

Your best friend was feet away, splashing around with her girlfriend. The others were lost in their own conversations. Hell, they knew you had the vibrating butterfly in the night of the poker game. Would this really be a stretch? “Please, don’t stop.”

“That’s our girl,” Steve murmured, gently sliding a finger into your wet channel. “You didn’t let me properly thank you for being there with us.”

“You don’t… fuck, need to thank me,” you protested as Bucky’s mouth moved to your neck. Your lips tingled, aching to feel Steve kiss you again.

“Yes, I do. We both do,” Steve said, pushing his finger deep.

“We’re demanding and you put up with us,” Bucky whispered, sliding a hand under your bikini top. Your lips parted in a gasp as he gently pinched and toyed with your nipple. It always felt so good with his metal hand.

Steve brushed his nose against yours as you gasped again. “We’re selfish for wanting you so much, but you make us insatiable. Fuck, you’re soaked. Have we been neglecting you?”

You could only moan as he added another finger. Was it the thought of being outside that excited you? Or knowing that everyone would see what they already knew? That you belonged to them? Maybe that was what excited you the most… simply being their girl.

“No,” you whimpered as you squirmed, rocking your ass back against Bucky with desperation. How did they reduce you to a mess so quickly?

Bucky licked a slow stripe along your pulse up to your ear again. “Should we fuck you here? Let us take turns slipping our cocks in and out of you?”

Steve kissed you deeply when you moaned, curling his fingers when his other hand went to your hip. With expert ease, he gently lifted and lowered you back down. Fuck, he was making you fuck yourself on his fingers. “Would you let us, sweetheart?” he breathed into your mouth. “I wonder how many times we’d make you come before anyone noticed.”

Your legs shook, your spirit trying to leave your body as you climbed higher. You’d let them fuck you all over Thor’s pool, deck, house, wherever they wanted. “I’ll let you wreck every hole.”

Bucky sputtered as he gripped your breast, Steve’s fingers stilling again as his eyes went wide. It felt good that you could surprise them. “Every hole, doll?”

“Every hole,” you moaned as Steve’s fingers moved along your walls again. “The question is… which one of you gets my tight ass first?”

“Jesus FUCK,” Bucky growled, a bit of water splashing around you as he rocked his hardness against your ass. “You can’t just say shit like that. We need a warning."

“Why not?” you whined when Steve brushed his thumb along your clit. You knew their cocks had to be aching for you and that rush of power was heady. “Don’t you want to fill me up?”

Steve’s forehead met yours as his fingers moved relentlessly. The hard and deep thrusts almost matched how his cock felt. “Until we’re dripping out of you, sweetheart.”

“You'll have to plug me,” you moaned, biting your lip. It was nearly impossible to hold back your sounds. You reveled in their touches, swearing that steam rose from the water from the fire that burned inside you. Your body wound tighter and tighter, gripping Steve’s arms as he nailed your g-spot.

“Tonight,” Bucky groaned with want. “Please. I need to feel that tight hole around every inch of me.”

“She didn’t say you’d get it first,” Steve growled.

“I… get to decide,” you managed to say as your head fell back. The pleasure built with such force as they practically bickered over who would ruin you first. You felt like you were in danger of exploding as you clenched around Steve’s fingers. “I’m… Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Do it, doll. Soak his fingers like our good girl. You’ve more than earned it,” Bucky encouraged, pinching your nipple again.

You cried in ecstasy as you let it wash over you, giving yourself up to the pure feeling of being theirs. Your cunt clenched almost painfully as your wetness coated the thick fingers inside you. You couldn’t even writhe in their grasp, their arms effectively keeping you trapped and making you feel it all. It wasn’t just the coil breaking. It was set on fire, every nerve ending heated from the pleasure in your veins.

“Almost came just from that sound,” Steve admitted as he slipped his fingers free.

You smiled as Bucky fixed your top, still feeling how hard he was as he held you. “Almost? I’m gonna be hard until I get to fuck you.”

You laughed breathlessly until you realized how quiet it was. “Um…” you trailed off as you peaked over Steve’s shoulder. Mandy, Natasha, and Clint were no longer in the pool. Sam was missing, too. Only Thor and Loki were still outside.

“If you’re quite finished, how do you want your burgers?” Loki asked.

Blood rushed to your cheeks before you smiled. “I think I have enough meat right here.”

Thor threw his head back as he laughed. “Rogers, Barnes. If you let her go, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Bucky promised, kissing your shoulder.

“Not letting go, Thor. Find your own best girl,” Steve added.

“I’m not letting go either,” you smiled, making no effort to move out of the water or their arms. You had nowhere else to be, except where they were. And the fear of falling in love with them? It faded more and more with each passing second because the future was bright. You deserved it.

Peggy smiled as she reached over, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind Briana’s ear. She was so beautiful. “I know the move won’t be easy, but I’ll be right there. And I can’t wait for Steve to meet you. He’ll adore you.”

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x you #stucky x reader #stucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #stucky x reader tattoo au #howling commandos tattoo au #tattoo au #sebastian stan x reader #chris evans x reader

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honeybear-yammy · 2 years ago

Text

Little Secret

Warnings: cursing, smut, fingering, oral sex

Pairings: Cleo x Female Reader

Summary: In which Y/N is looking for John B and Sarah in Nassau but, she runs into Cleo. Cleo tells her that she knows where they are but, she won't tell Y/N unless she gives Cleo something in return.

Character: Cleo (played by Carlacia Grant)

Show: Outer Banks

You walked down the streets looking for John B and Sarah. You, Pope, JJ, and Kiara decided to split up to look for them once the four of you got the location you knew they were at. You knew they were in this location, you just didn’t know where.

You knew the Cameron’s has a vacation house here so you figured you could go check it out there to see if they were there. You wanted to get to Sarah and John B before the police did because, even though John B was innocent… it would not go down well.

You were just hoping the police didn’t find them yet. Then the four of you would have to come up with a new plan.

Once you got to the Cameron’s vacation house you looked around. It seemed like it would be hard to get in and Ward Cameron probably had some type of system set up to see if anyone broke in.

You saw a hotel near by so you decided to walk down there to see if maybe they were hiding there. You just wanted to find them. You were scared of what could happen to them here. People here also knew about John B.

You were looking around when you ran into someone.

“I- sorry..” You mumbled and started to walk by when they grabbed your wrist. You looked back at them. It was a girl. She had black hair and beautiful brown eyes. You looked at her confused to why she stopped you.

“You seem like you’re looking for someone. Do they happen to be a brunette boy and a blonde girl?” She asked.

“Yeah actually, Sarah Cameron and John B Routledge.. do you know them?” You asked.

“I know where they are.” The girl said. “I could tell you.” She said.

“Well how do I know I can trust you, I don’t even know your name.” You said.

“Names Cleo.” She said. Cleo.. that was a really nice name.

“I’m y/n.” You said. “And if you honestly know where they are then, can you please tell me?” You asked.

“Depends. What do I get in return?” She asked.

“What do you mean?” You corked a brow.

“Well I know about your friend John B. A murderer.” She said.

“He’s not a killer.” You said.

“Either way, I’m telling you important information that I could just tell the police. If I tell you, what will you give me in return?” Cleo asked.

“I- I don’t know. If you’re wanting money I don’t have any.” You said.

“Well.. I have an idea of something we could arrange.” She said, a smirk spreading across her face.

“And what would that be?” You asked.

“Well… I’ll tell you where your friends are if… you let me have a taste of that pussy.” She said pointing to your legs.

“I- excuse me?” You corked your brow. You couldn’t lie.. you liked the idea of this. Even though you didn’t know anything except for her name, she was hot. So, at the same time you did want to go along with this idea.

“You herd me.” Cleo said with a smirk.

“I mean… if that’s what it’s going to take to find Sarah and John B then… ok.” You nodded. Cleo smirked.

“Alright follow me.” She said and walked off. You followed her. She lead you to her boat and once they were inside she took you to a room that seemed like a bedroom. You walked in and she closed the door behind you.

“So, before we start.. you promise that you do actually know where Sarah and John B were?” You asked.

“Yes I promise. I wouldn’t lie to a pretty face like that.” Cleo said. You blushed looking away. She gently pushed you onto the bed so you were laying down. She then pulled off your shorts and panties. You felt a bit embarrassed to have your core exposed to someone you didn’t know but at the same time you loved it.

She got onto the bed and spread your legs then began to trail wet kisses up your thighs. You whined at the slow pace. She kept kissing up your thighs until she finally got to the place you ached for her.

She licked a long strip up your folds making you gasp and whimper. She smirked and then dived in. She began to massage your clit with her tongue making you moan out. You reached down and put your hands through her raven hair.

She gently bit your clit making you gasp. She smirked at your reaction and then opened your folds more with her thumbs and inserted her tongue into your pussy. She began to fuck you with her tongue making you moan more.

You kept one hand in her hair and the other hand was fisting the sheets. She went back up to your clit, working her magic with her tongue on your clit. As Cleo did so, she inserted two fingers into you without warning.

“Oh god!” You moaned out loudly as the pace of her fingers kept getting faster. You threw your head back. You felt that familiar knot bubbling in your stomach and you clenched around her fingers, signaling her that you were close.

“You’re close pretty girl?” She asked with a smirk.

“Fuck.. I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out.

“Then cum for me.” She said putting her mouth back on your clit. With that you’re eyes rolled back and your legs began to tremble. You felt the wave of pleasure wash over you and you screwed your eyes closed.

Once you finally opened your eyes again you looked to see Cleo now sitting up with a smirk on her face. You sat up on your forearms and looked down. The sheets were soaked. Her chin and fingers were completely covered with your juices and even some got on her shirt.

“Holy shit.. who knew she was a squirter.” She said with a smirk. Your face went red. You had never squirted before. You had hooked up many times before but no one was ever able to make you squirt until now.

“We will keep this our little secret.” She said looking at you and she winked. You just nodded, your cheeks still red.

“Now come on, get dressed and cleaned up. I’ll take you to your friends.” Cleo said.

Author's Note: tysm for reading!

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thefuckinsandes · 3 years ago

Text

His Blossom

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x female!reader, slight Ellaria Sand x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ content, p in v, oral (male and female), slight lactation kink, slight breeding kink, alcohol, just pure smut, Oberyn deserves his own warning tag cause omg,

Word Count: 4305, I had a lot to say lmaoooo

A/N: I started writing this after binge watching Game of Thrones a while back. Oberyn deserves so much, so I thought to give him the life that the deserves. Who knows, if you all like this, maybe I'll make it into a series. Let me know! And as always, wrap it before you tap it!

The moment that you had first laid eyes on the Red Viper of Dorne, you knew that life was never going to be the same. Prince Oberyn Martell was the vision that every woman and man desired: tall, strong, and handsome with a lithe figure. The epitome of beauty.

The first time you saw him was within the library of the Water Gardens. You were searching for a book when you felt a presence near. A quick glance and there he was, fully concentrated on the parchment that was in front of him. You gasped at the mere sight of him and accidentally dropped the book in your hand. Before he turned to look at you, you grabbed the book and fled, not noticing the eyes that followed you.

The second time you saw him, you were making your way back to your quarters after spending the majority of the day in the library with some of the children of the household. His Sand Snakes, they proudly proclaimed as they spoke so lovingly about their father and mother. You quickly bid him a goodnight before rushing past him, red-faced and nervous. He stood there, watching you disappear into the dark before he returned back to his own quarters.

The third time you saw him was when you were comforting his youngest daughter, Loreza, after she had accidentally broken a vase. He quickly made his way towards the two of you and kneeled beside you.

“Loreza, my sweet, are you hurt?”

You knew that he adored his daughters with his life. He’d do anything for them. After the young child reassured him that she was fine and that you had cared for her, he turned to face you.

“Thank you, my lady,” he tells you before taking your hand and lifting you up from the ground. “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“There is no need, my prince. I was merely doing what a caretaker would do for her wards,” you responded back as you gently placed your hand on Loreza’s head, making the child giggle.

“Caretaker?”

Your eyes remained on the little one before you, nerves beginning to form as you spoke, “Ah yes, Prince Doran requested that I watch over all the children while here in the Water Gardens. Lady Ellaria knew of this, so I had made the assumption that you did as well.”

“Thank you for providing such love and care to my girls,” his eyes glowed as he spoke. “You will always be under the care of House Martell. Anything you wish, I shall grant, my blossom.”

What he did then made your eyes snap towards him. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on your palm. A blush began to rise on your cheeks.

“May we go play now?” Loreza asked, snapping your attention back to the child.

“Of course, sweet one. Thank you, my-”

“Oberyn.”

“Thank you, Oberyn,” his name flowed from your lips.

Oberyn grinned as he watched you walk away with his daughter. He then felt arms wrap around his torso. A kiss is placed on his cheek.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Ellaria whispers as she watches you leave.

“She is very beautiful as well,” his eyes never left your form as he watched you disappear around the corner of the hall.

Over the next few weeks, life has begun to change for you in the Martell household. More than often you found yourself conversing more with Oberyn. And not just him. Ellaria has been more present as well. You always felt their welcoming embrace and they provided nothing but warmth and comfort.

Anytime Oberyn was with you, he called you his blossom. You had asked him why he dubbed you “blossom” and his response was simple: you reminded him of the blossoms that bloomed on the blood orange trees in Dorne: beautiful, delicate, and sweet smelling. Soon enough, Ellaria had begun using the nickname as well.

You were watching the children swim late one afternoon and Ellaria is there with you. She tells you grand stories of her travels with Oberyn and about her life before she had met that man that she loves. She has your attention word for word.

“Have you ever laid with a man before?” She suddenly asks you.

You choke on the wine before clearing your throat, “Yes. With a young baker and a smith a few years ago.”

“And what about a woman?”

You nod, “Just once. She was the baker’s sister.”

“No! You jest!” Ellaria laughs before taking a sip of her wine.

“It’s true!” You laugh, “She heard us fucking one night and the next morning she walks up to me and tells me that she knew my orgasm was fake. We laughed about it all day and when it was time for me to leave, she gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse. She purposely made sure her brother heard.”

You both laughed loudly. This was nice. Ellaria was becoming that friend who you could open up to. She poured more wine to your glass when a shadow loomed over you both.

“And what are we laughing about,” Oberyn stands tall above you both. His smile. That smile made you weak.

“Just lady things,” Ellaria winks at you.

A heavy blush appears on your face as you quickly reach for your cup. Before you are able to grab it, Oberyn’s large hand takes it from the table and he takes a hearty gulp. He smirks as he hands you the cup, but it falters for a second when he sees you drink from the exact spot he had.

“It’s delicious, isn’t it.” The wine has made you bolder. Daring.

He licks his lips as he sees some of the wine drip from the corner of your mouth. His thumb reaches for it and swipes it across your lips before he licks his thumb.

“Absolutely.”

Oh how you craved him. Ellaria is staring at you, enjoying the effect that Oberyn has over you. She sees the way your body reacts to him. How your soul reaches for him. It’s exactly how she felt the moment she first met him. And she can feel Oberyn projecting that same energy. The thought of that brings a smile to her face.

“My love, leave us be. Go swim with our darlings,” Ellaria shooed him away.

He laughs and agrees to leave the two of you alone before kissing her. To your surprise, he leans over and kisses you on the cheek. You watch him remove his clothes and shoes, only keeping his bottoms on before he jumps into the water where his daughters begin to scream in delight.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he,” Ellaria whispers into your ear, causing you to shiver. You stutter, unable to form words as you watch her smile and wink at you. “Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret.”

“Yes, he is,” you whisper back before taking a large gulp of wine, practically finishing off the cup.

“You know,” Ellaria starts as she refills your cup, “he talks about you.”

“Me?”

“About how caring you are towards the children, how beautiful you are, and,” she leans closer. Her lips are touching your ear now, “how he wishes to fuck you until you are screaming him name.”

You shudder as she bites your earlobe. How is it that her words cause you to fluster so quickly?

“Ellaria, please,” you gasp as you close your eyes.

“Look,” she grabs your chin and turns your head towards the pool in front of you both.

There you see Oberyn staring intently at the two of you. His eyes turned dark as he watched the way Ellaria moves closer towards your body. You feel her move her hands from your chin down to your neck.

“You see how deep his eyes are. He craves you. He burns for you.”

“But, are you both not?”

She chuckles, “I am both his love and his paramour. That doesn’t mean he can’t love just one person.”

You gasped as soon as the word love left her lips. He loves you? Why?

“He isn’t the only one,” she nips at your ear, catching your attention. “I myself have come to love you too.”

Ellaria’s hand is suddenly on your knee. It begins to wander higher towards the apex of your thighs. You shiver at the way her fingers gently create patterns. You slowly begin to widen your legs, welcoming her touch, when you suddenly hear Ellaria’s name being shouted.

Her hand moves away from your body while a gasp escapes your lips. Oberyn’s eyes are darker than before. The crease in his brows became deeper. His chest glittering with water droplets as his breaths are much heavier. You only hear Ellaria laugh besides you. Your eyes have been captured by the deep brown pools that belong to Oberyn.

“I’m sorry, my blossom. But it seems that our dear prince got a little jealous over the attention that I am giving you,” you can hear her teasing tone. She leans over and whispers into your ear, “He wishes to see you tonight. Will you let him in?”

“I will,” you whisper as if you were reciting a blessing to the Gods.

“Be ready, my blossom,” she kisses your cheek and makes her leave. You stare at her before turning your gaze towards Oberyn. He’s playing with two of the young ones, lifting them in the air and laughing with them. Love? You smile as you listen to the glees of them all. Yes, you were indeed in love with him.

Later that night you sat by the window reading a book. The moonlight was providing enough light to not need a candle by you. The wine besides you was forgotten as you continued turning the pages. A knock was then heard, causing you to pause and place a marker to keep your place on your book.

He’s here.

You brush the invisible dirt from your dress as you make your way towards your door. Taking a deep breath in, you grab the handle of the door and open it. There he stands in his golden yellow robes and a gentle smile on his lips.

“Good evening. May I enter, my blossom?”

“Yes, of course,” you move to open the door more, allowing his lithe figure to enter the room. He takes a few steps in before he turns to face you.

“A blossom, for my blossom,” Oberyn hands you the beautiful flower.

“Thank you,” you smile, smelling the flower. You enter deeper into the room, guiding him towards the center of it. “Would you like some wine, my prince?”

“How many times must I tell you, my blossom, to call me by my name?” you can hear his smile as he accepts the glass from you. “I love hearing you say it.”

“Oberyn,” you say his name. You move to gently place the blossom by the book you were reading.

He places his glass back on the table and makes his way towards you, grabbing your hand and lifting it close to his face. He begins to press gentle kisses on your palm and wrist, “Say it again.”

“Oberyn,” you whisper as he presses his body closer against yours.

“Again,” he gently drops your hand and instead cups your face, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Oberyn.”

His lips press against yours the moment his name leaves your lips. The taste of himself and wine flourish in your mouth as you feel his lips hungrily attack yours. Breathless sighs escape you and he devours them. Your hands make their way up his chest and towards his neck and you feel how fast his heart is racing. How it is beating so fast for you. Your senses are quickly being overpowered by him.

You both break apart, breathing heavily. His eyes are dark, blown with passion. Yours must be looking the same. You take his hands and bring it to your lips, repeating the same action he has done to you. Only this time you take his thumb, the same one from earlier that day, and lick the pad of it. Your eyes focused on his own.

“Oh, my blossom,” he groans before pressing it more into your mouth. You revel at the taste of him as you begin to suck his thumb, tasting both him and the ring he wore. He pulls his thumb out of your mouth and let’s it linger against your lips before his lips reach for yours again.

His tongue pushes through your lips and nothing but moans are heard from the both of you. He begins to guide you towards the bed all while he is beginning to disrobe himself.

“Allow me,” your hands begin to remove the golden silk that envelopes him. As each layer is removed off his body, you begin your explorations. Seeing him in the water was a sight. Seeing him in front of you, chest heaving as you place soft kisses against his neck is otherworldly. Your lips begin to trail downwards. Nips against his clavicle; licks over his nipples. You slowly worship him.

As soon as you reached his bottoms, your eyes seeked his own. Nothing but love and lust filled his eyes as he breathed heavily. You descended down onto your knees, eyes remained on his, as you pulled down the last piece of clothes. His cock was freed from their confines and you moaned at the sight of him. He was gorgeous and you fully understood the cocky behavior he exuberated every so often.

Licking your lips, you looked up at Oberyn and with a soft sigh, you asked, “May I?”

“Please, my sweet blossom,” Oberyn’s hand began to tread lightly against your hair, guiding you where he needed you the most.

You pressed a sweet kiss against his hip bone before tasting him. The moan that he had released as soon as your tongue pressed against his tip was the most exotic sound you’ve ever heard. He tasted better than the sweetest of wines you’ve ever had. You move towards the base of his length and before he could even whisper a word, you flatten your tongue against the vein of him and slowly lick your way back up.

“Blossom, please,” he moans with such need.

You widen your lips and you take all of him into your mouth. The taste of him has your mind spinning. You knew that after tonight, there would be no other man that would ever compare to Oberyn. But the thing was, there would be no other man after tonight. It would be just him. Always him. The moment you began to bob your head back and forth, his voice grew louder. You wanted him to sing.

You hollow your cheeks as you continued to suck him. You wanted to try and take more of him, to feel him twitch inside of your wet mouth. Your eyes looked up into his own and you moaned against his length. His mouth was wide open as his chest heaved with pleasure. The moonlight made him glow. He truly was beautiful.

Oberyn sang praises as you continued worshipping his length. His hands tightened around your hair and he guided you to go faster. As you followed his pace, your hands made their way up his thighs and began to massage his balls. With a single push, his length reached your throat and you moaned at the feeling.

“My love, if you keep doing that, I will not last,” he groaned at the sensations. He pulled you off of his length, but you continued with your hands.

“But I want more,” you licked his tip, tasting the precum that leaked from him.

Oberyn pulled you off from the ground, standing even taller than before. His eyes bore into your own before his mouth reached for yours. Nothing but tongues clashing against one another and when he pulled away, his eyes showed all the promises he’d give you.

“There will be more later. I need to taste you, my love. I need you,” he gently placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling down the straps that held your dress against your body until it pooled around your feet.

As soon as your skin presented itself, Oberyn’s lips followed. His lips first reached your neck as he placed sweet pecks against the skin. He reached the conjuncture of your neck and shoulder and he bit the tender flesh. A whine escaped you. It was all he needed to hear to guide you onto the bed. His nude body towering over your own. His lips continued to trail down your body. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples while his hand pinched the other.

“I can’t wait to see these filled with milk one day,” he groans at your taste, his fingers beginning their descent towards your wet core. “One day you’ll bless me with more beautiful children. You would make the perfect mother.”

You cried out as soon as his fingers began to circle at your bud, “Yes! Oberyn, please.”

His lips left your nipple as he pulled back to watch you come undone by his fingers, “Will you be mine? Be my paramour? Be the mother to my future children?”

“O-Oberyn!” You closed your eyes, lost in the pleasure that his long fingers provided.

He kissed your lips, “Open your eyes for me, my love. Please let me see you.”

Who were you to deny him? Your eyes pierced his own as you gave him more and more of your moans.

“Please, be mine.”

“Yes!”

Bliss. That’s all you felt as your orgasm flowed all over your body. You felt as if there was nothing in the world: just Oberyn and you. Oberyn took advantage of your blissed out state and made his way down to your wet core. He placed a kiss on the inside of your thigh before he flattened his tongue and began to feast upon you.

“Oberyn!” Your body shook as you felt his tongue lap the juices that flowed. Your hands went straight to his hair, gripping it tightly as you began to grind yourself against his face. His nose hit beautifully against your nub. You wanted more.

“Calm yourself, my love,” Oberyn chuckled as he licked his lips, fingers still running up and down your slit. “Or do I have to tie you down?”

That didn’t sound like a bad idea that all, you thought with a moan. Oberyn grinned and made his promise before returning to his ministrations. His large hands held you down as he ate you with much fervor. Your cries grew louder and louder as he proceeded to insert his fingers into your wet cavern.

“Can you give me one more, my love,” he moaned as watched the way your cunt took his fingers.

You nodded your head with such enthusiasm. Your hands went to grasp your breasts, moaning at the sensations of Oberyn’s fingers and tongue on you. You were close. Hearing the sounds that he was making, you pinched and rolled your nipples. Silent pleas escaped your lips as you felt the oncoming storm. One of your hands returned back to grip Oberyn’s hair. With a flick of his wrist and his tongue on your nub, he had you screaming as another orgasm erupted from you.

Oberyn moaned as he slurped up the juices from your cunt. The taste of you had him wanting more. Oh he was not going to let you go. You quivered as he took one last lick and pulled him towards you, wanting to taste yourself as you kissed his lips.

“Oberyn, I need you,” you whined, biting his bottom lip.

He moaned as he made himself comfortable between your legs. Taking his cock in hand, he used your sweet juices to lubricate himself and tease you before inserting the head of him in, slowly making his way until he was fully sheathed.

“Fuck, my love. You’re so tight,” his nose flared as he felt you clenched around him.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel him against you. A whine fell from your lips when you felt him pull out before snapping his hips against your own, bottoming out. He placed his head against the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking.

“More,” you cried at the sensation. You felt so full. Complete.

Oberyn kissed your neck once more before he began pounding into you. You asked for more and he delivered. Filthy sounds floated around the room as he fucked you with a passion. Your pants were heard as were the sounds of skin slapping against one another. It was sinful.

“That’s it, my love,” Oberyn lifted your leg, allowing himself to enter you deeper. “You take me so well. You were made for me.”

Your moans grew louder as the pace of his hips went faster. Your nails raked down his back, surely leaving marks as pleasure flowed through your body. Oberyn grinded against your core before pulling out of you.

“No,” you cried at the loss of him inside you.

“Oh don’t you worry, my blossom,” Oberyn grinned wickedly at you as he sat on his knees. He grabbed your arms and pulled you up towards him, placing a bruising kiss on your lips. He bit your lip and pulled away. “Get on your knees.”

You did as you were told and you felt his hands caress your back before slapping your ass. You cried in delight at the pain you felt from his hand. Oberyn gripped your ass and bent down, licking up your wet slit and bit your ass cheek.

“Next time,” he promises to himself before sliding his length back into your cunt.

Holding onto your hips, Oberyn did not hold back. He pounded harshly into you, moaning at the feeling of you clenching his cock.

“I love your perfect cunt,” he groaned as he slapped your ass again. “I want to fill you over and over. Do you want that, my love? Are you going to be mine?”

“Yes! Oberyn I am yours,” you trembled as you gripped the sheets, trying to hold yourself up against the force of his thrusts.

Oberyn grabbed your arms and pulled you up against him, your back against his chest as he kept fucking you harder and harder. His hand went straight to your breast, gripping you tightly as he pounded into you.

“My love, I need you to cum for me,” he panted against your ear. “I need to feel you cum all over me.”

“Oberyn!”

His hand left your breast and made its way down to your clit. His fingers began to create patterns that left you crying out. Him thrusting and rubbing you was going to be your downfall. You were so close.

“I feel you, my love. Cum for me. Let me feel you,” he groaned and bit harshly against your neck.

You cried his name out as you gushed all over his cock. Your body shook as he continued fucking you as you came all over him. Oberyn cried out, your cunt choking his cock as his thrusts began to falter. His hand returned back to your breast to hold himself steady.

“My love, cum for me,” you cried out as you placed your hand on his face and pulled him into a breathtaking kiss.

He moaned against your lips and with a final thrust, he came hard inside of you. You can feel him pulsing inside of you as ropes of his come filled you. You both pulled away from the kiss and breathed heavily against one another. Oberyn traced your nose with his before reaching for your lips again. A gentle kiss was interchanged before he pulled out of you slowly, moaning at the loss of your heat.

He carefully laid you back down onto the bed and he placed a quick kiss before he stood up. You closed your eyes and calmed your breathing. He returned, cleaning you up before he laid down besides you, wrapping you up and against his chest.

“How are you feeling, my blossom?” Oberyn plays with a strand of your hair, a smile on his face.

“Perfect,” you kiss his lips.

“Do you know how perfect you look in the moonlight? Like a goddess.”

“Oberyn,” you blush, hiding your neck.

He laughs, pulling you back to face him, “Don’t hide from me, my love.”

Oberyn grabs your hand and places sweet kisses against the palm of it. You intertwine your fingers, loving the way how his large hand looks with yours.

“Oberyn”

“Yes, my blossom?”

You face him and place your other hand against his cheek, “I love you and I would happily be yours. Will you be mine?”

Oberyn lips reach for yours, “Always, my love. I will always love you, even in the next life and on. I promise I’ll cherish every moment with you.”

You sigh happily. Your life felt complete. Well almost.

The door to your room opened and with the light of the moon, Ellaria’s figure was seen. She made her way towards the bed and sat down at the edge of it.

“Good evening, my loves. My blossom, did we enjoy ourselves?” Ellaria grins as her hand reaches for your ankle, trailing her finger up and down.

“We did,” you looked at Oberyn and kissed him before turning to look at her. “Will you join us?”

Ellaria stood from the bed and removed her dress, “I’d love to.”

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