#I get to see my sister soon and I want to have some of my sourdough for her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bitterrfruit · 9 hours ago

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wild cherries [3]

[masterlist]

Price x f!Reader - cw: dubcon, spanking, light sadomasochism, brat taming 18+ mdni - 10k words

And I guess the sound of the outward bound Made me a slave to my wanderin' ways.

The sky was powder grey the following morning, sun concealed by a sheer veil of dry white cloud.

You had a fitful sleep.

Wracked with feverish dreams of sun and skin, of plum bruises and cherry juice. You woke up many times throughout the night with cold sweat damp on the back of your neck, cunt shivering and slippery as you dreamed of the cowboy’s tormenting hand, of his thumb intruding into your slit. Of your wet knickers being held in a tight and burly fist, being shoved covertly into a worn pocket.

It was near impossible for you to get comfortable in your bed – you were unable to lie on your back, for any pressure on your marred buttocks stung hot like a fresh brand.

Before the sun had risen you had been briefly awoken by the raucous sounds of the ranch whirring to life; disturbed by the yelling of your elder brother and his ranchmen from your second-storey window, by the humming engines of trucks and tractors rolling off to toil. The sounds, at least, brought you some form of nostalgic comfort, and it didn’t take you long to drift back to sleep.

When you finally bothered to kick off your sheet and slip out of bed, it was after nine. You slid your feet into your sandal slippers and wandered down the moaning staircase in your linen nightdress, rubbing fists into your puffy sockets and making your sleep-blurred vision all sparkly. You heard your sister’s voice in the kitchen before you spotted her.

“Slow morning?” She murmured, soft enough in tone that perhaps she didn’t intend for you to hear it.

Evelyn was perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, frowning at her open laptop and tapping away contemptuously at the keys. You thought to ask her what she was working on, but knew the half-hearted response you’d get – a distracted oh, it’s nothing, while her eyes remain pinned to the screen.

“Yep,” you croaked, scuffing over to the pantry and hanging off the open door. Perused the shelves for a box of cereal that didn’t have the word bran on it.

“Eat quickly, will you?” She said, far more pointedly, and when you glanced over your shoulder she was looking right at you. Had that quirk in her lip that betrayed an uneasy vexation. “Miles is taking us over at quarter-to.”

You frowned as you tugged a box of Honey Nut Cheerios from the back of the pantry, one with the cardboard flap ajar, and which you swear was the same box that had been there the last time you came to visit.

“Taking us where?” You asked mindlessly, shuffling to the fridge to grab the milk.

You heard a scoff from your sister as you poured the dry wheat cereal into an empty bowl. “To the neighbours’.”

“What?” You spat, cocking your head around to glare at her. “Why?”

The adrenaline that rinsed you was sudden and sharp, at the thought of seeing the man again so soon after his incursion. Having to sit still, to pretend all is normal, to feign sweetness and ignorance as you stand in the presence of both he and your siblings in one room. Suddenly you didn’t want your cereal anymore.

“We’ve got things to discuss with him,” she said grouchily. “And you have an apology to give.”

“Apology for what?” You snapped, resorting to petulance having been scolded.

Evelyn only released an exasperated groan as she shut her laptop lid. “You know what,” she chided. “Second day here and you’ve already pissed him off.”

“He wasn’t-” You started, biting your tongue just as swiftly as you had begun to blurt out that he was just as at fault as you. “He wasn’t pissed off.”

“Miles told me he dragged you home by your ear, Bee,” she grumbled. “I don’t even want to know what you coulda done to get him that burned up.”

“I didn’t even do anything,” you mumbled testily, tipping a splash of milk into your cereal.

“Whatever. Just – be polite, and–” She sighed as she paused, “just don’t get into any more trouble, will you? We want him on our good side.”

You snorted as you scooped a spoonful of your cereal and shoved it into your open mouth. “What are you going to discuss with him, then? Why do I even need to be there?”

“It’s – ugh. It’s a complicated situation, Bee,” she failed to explain, “but we need to be a united front. We’re a family, it’s a family business. A family ranch. We all need to be in it together.”

You pursed your lips, fought the desire to furrow your brows in contempt. “Still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look, Miles can explain it better to you later. Just finish your breakfast and wear something – something presentable for once.”

The Cheerios were stale and tasted like cardboard and dried syrup. You only shot your sister a foul look and huffed derisively, taking your cereal upstairs with you.

Something presentable. Your sister had a way of insulting you without even needing to utter the words. That was her way of telling you that you had been dressing like a slut. Short sundresses were simply so much more practical for your escapades – easier to ride in, to walk in, let you feel the breeze on your skin. Ensured you wouldn’t bake alive under the summer sun.

So you simply chose a slightly longer dress than usual. Dusty red plaid with a hem that brushed your calves, a wide neckline and little cap sleeves. Probably a hand-me-down from the seventies, one of the perks of so many generations of women living in the same farmhouse. It smelled like dust and patchouli.

You scrunched your wild hair up into an uncombed ponytail, barely held in place by a floppy hair tie, and smeared some strawberry chapstick over your lips as you meandered your way down the stairs.

Immediately crossed paths with Miles as he trudged down the hallway, black rancher hat still atop his head and a leather briefcase tucked under his arm. His tan button down was tucked into his jeans, a truly anomalous sight.

“So why are we going to the neighbours’?” You asked pertly, as you immediately followed behind him towards the kitchen.

He sighed gruffly, as you completely expected. It was always such a nuisance for them to explain things to you, to dumb it all down enough that you’d understand it. That, or, he was simply in a sour mood. Either just as likely.

“We’re only going over for a conversation,” he deadpanned, dumping the briefcase on the island counter before going to the sink to get himself a glass of water. Evelyn was gone – busy making herself presentable, you assumed. As if she weren’t in a perpetual state of presentableness.

You groaned. Their persistent vagueness was excruciating. “About what.”

“It’s just – it’s all business stuff, Bee,” he said, exhaling sharply after downing the whole glass. Must have been hot out there. “Negotiations and junk – it’d bore you to death.”

“Then why do I need to come?” You grumbled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the jamb of the open door.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, already exasperated with you. You seemed to have that effect on people. “Look, if you really don’t want to come then don't. I’m not gonna drag you there.”

“Eve said we have to be a united front,” you disputed. Still wanted an explanation. “What does that even mean?”

He smiled a little at that, moustache stretching with the grin.

“Good at likening things to war, that woman,” he snorted. “She just means it’d be less – less formal if we show up, all of us. Ol’ John’s probably sick of both our faces by now.”

“Probably sick of mine, now, too,” you said coyly, mindlessly tracing the lines of the hardwood with the tip of your big toe.

He laughed at you, full and from his belly, and the room lightened up with it. “Likely,” he chortled, “Especially if you keep sniffin’ round after ‘im.”

“Wasn’t sniffing. Only looking,” you murmured, through a bashful grin. “You’re not mad at me after yesterday?”

“No, hun,” he said, rubbing his forehead, concern still eking through the creases in his brow. “Only surprised you got yourself caught so quickly.”

You snickered. “Not mad at him for grabbing me, neither?”

He shrugged. “No. That served you right.”

“M’kay, fine,” you conceded demurely. “I’ll come, then.”

There was another truck parked beside Mr Price’s blue Chevy as Miles pulled up his long driveway, a black pickup coated in a layer of dust.

Evelyn and Miles had been murmuring to each other for the duration of the short drive, bickering about some deal or other, about what to say and what not to say. In truth, you paid little attention, despite your earlier curiosity. Miles was right, it bored you to death, even attempting to listen in on whatever business endeavour the contentious visit was going to cover. You quietly stuck your head out of the window of the back seat, eyeing the looming homestead as you drove around the bend, and Miles pulled to a stop by the front porch.

The air smelled wet and heavy when you hopped out and onto the gravel drive. The blanket of rolling clouds had swelled, distended with imminent rain sagging in its blue-grey bulges. You could feel it sticky and warm on your skin, it made your hairs prickle up.

Your siblings were still mumbling between each other as they slammed shut their doors, wandering towards the porch steps, briefcases and papers in hand. All business, so they said. How tedious.

While their backs were to you, you slinked towards Mr Price’s truck.

You wondered if he spotted the cotton sin you left in the cab. You wondered why you had even thought to do such a thing at all. What was wrong with you? Were you really made so delusional by his degenerate punishment that you would so debase yourself?

Humiliation simmered sour in your belly, as you heard your siblings knock on the great front door. You imagined John revealing your foul little secret, making some sly comment about it as you greeted him. Might he chastise you for your outrageously licentious behaviour? Shame you for your petulant whorishness?

Perhaps he hadn’t seen your panties at all, inconspicuous as they were.

With a swallow you stood on the tips of your toes, fingertips barely grazing the dusty metal of the truck, you peeked through the passenger window. Eyes scoured the leather seat, between the seatbelts, below the dashboard.

They were gone.

You wrenched your eyes shut, wetting them so you could check again, and again – eagerly seeking a glint of white fabric anywhere in the truck’s cabin. No sign.

With that, you knew that not only had he noticed them – he must have touched them. Must have picked them up, that sliver of pointelle cotton, must have looked at them closely enough to determine what they were. Might he have noticed the fabric was still wet, cold to the touch between his fingers?

Your tongue ran along the back of your teeth at the thought of him holding them, feeling the material in his hands, against his skin. At the thought of him knowing it had been the only barrier between his finger and your–

“Honeybee!” Hissed your sister through sharp teeth, and you jumped – spun around on the heel of your boot with your hands pinned to your sides.

John stood in the open front door. Arms crossed. All three of them looked dead at you.

“Coming,” you bleated, walking towards them as casually as you could make yourself appear. Your heart was fat in your throat, and your skin was sheeny with anxious sweat and humidity.

You caught John’s eye as you sheepishly scooped a stray curl and tucked it behind your ear. His expression was rigid as stone, eyes squinting, lips in a censorious curl under his beard. The weight of his glare was leaden and your feet felt heavy.

Did he know what you were looking for in his truck?

There was a faint quirk in his brow, you saw, as you approached and stood slyly behind your older siblings. A glint of surprise. Perhaps agog at the bravura of showing up at his home after your transgression, bold enough to bare your face to him.

“Whole family, eh?” He asked gruffly, heavy stare only leaving you when Miles offered a pleasant chuckle.

“Only polite,” Miles said warmly, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Lil’ miss has some making up to do, too.”

Your cheeks turned apple-red and you fought back the scowl that tugged at your mouth. Lil’ miss. Good at calling on your father’s old patronising habits, Miles.

John only seemed to find the comment amusing, letting out a low huff, cracking a faint smirk.

“S’that so?” He coaxed, amused. Sharp blues fastened to you once again, and you could only pick at your fingernails.

You held your tongue, hoping you could convey that he’s the one who needs to apologise without having to say it aloud. His smugness was unearned, you had just as much to reveal about him as he did you.

He knew you wouldn’t out yourself. You could see it in his sinking smirk.

“It’s a new day, eh?” He grunted, standing to the side and flicking his head to beckon the lot of you inside. “C’mon in, then.”

Your siblings filed in first, but you dithered by the door. John waited in the arch, thick arms crossed cavalierly over his chest, he looked down his nose at you. You hoped he’d venture in after Evelyn and you could slink in behind, but he stayed put. Waiting for you to pass him. Kept your eye as you glowered up at him, daring him to say something; to admit what he had found, to apologise for assailing you, to castigate you for your insolence.

There was plenty you wanted to say to him, and the words itched at the very tip of your tongue. You stifled them with your teeth instead. Let out an impudent huff as you nudged past him, and he followed closely behind you, shutting the door. You felt his livid warmth on your back, heard his coarse breathing and felt it tickle your hair. The adrenaline thumping through your runny blood made your fingertips tingle, you closed them into fists.

The foyer was grand, almost cavernous; stained walnut wainscotting on all the walls, old patterned rugs peppered every floor. The enormous staircase unfurled in the centre of the hall, second story mezzanine wrapped around its edges, ornate spindle balustrades wrapped the stairs and the loft. An enormous light fixture hung from the centre second story ceiling, fashioned of deer antlers and many coruscant lightbulbs. You wondered how long it had been there. How many Prices ago it had been made by hand out of the severed antlers of hunted game.

Seems your siblings had been here for many meetings before, because they knew immediately where to go – put themselves in some sort of drawing room past the stairs, and you meekly followed them. Had Mr Price at your tail like a collie herding you where he wanted you.

Led you to the room containing two imposing leather sofas, facing each other, a large slab of polished wood serving as a coffee table between them. The furthest wall contained floor-to-ceiling glass cabinets, filled to the brim with upright rifles. Long and short, hunting rifles, shotguns, double-barrels. Some of them looked a hundred years old. Towering transom windows lined the eastern wall, bathing the room in the dim ashen glow of the cloudy sky outside. A spinning fan hung from the ceiling.

You noticed that there was another man in the room, only once you had been ferried in and stood awkwardly before you decided where to sit. He sat opposite your siblings with a black brick hat on his knee. Blond-haired and brown-eyed.

John must have noticed you staring blankly at him, because his hand landed on your shoulder. A purely cordial touch, and yet it made you wince like he had spanked you again.

“Ah, this’s Simon,” he said amicably, “he’s my foreman.”

Simon stood and reached over to shake your hand, silent type, and gave you a stiff nod when you slipped your hand in his and shook it. Big and calloused, like John’s.

Seemed to be business from there on. Miles opened his briefcase on the coffee table and pulled out a manila folder, a few sheets of paper with words and numbers printed on them. Evelyn had her laptop open on her knees. John and Simon leaned back into the couch with apathy engraved in their stone faces. Seemed your siblings were the ones here to do business. They were buttering him up for something.

You went to sheepishly sit on the couch next to Miles as he started droning on about some sale, something about acreage and borders and permits, whatever. You glanced at his papers in hopes of spotting a word or two that might have jumped out at you.

The moment you landed in the leather, though, you winced and sucked a gust of air through clenched teeth – the mark of Mr Price’s savage hand on your bottom burned white-hot under the sudden pressure, and the incisive pain shot through you like a bullet.

John’s murky glare was already on you when you looked across the room.

Didn’t need to say a word to you, his lour spoke for him. He was scolding you.

You wondered what he would say to you, if he let himself. What words his tongue formed behind his teeth as he glowered at you. Serves you right. Don’t you get caught. Does that burn feel good?

He opened his mouth to speak, and your stomach plummeted.

“Why don’t y’go fix us some drinks, girl?” he said gravely, directly to you, crudely interrupting your brother mid-spiel.

Your brows twitched into a bemused frown, jaw loose as you failed to summon a response to him.

Girl? The condescension in his tone made your blood roil in your veins, turbid with shards of spite. You weren’t stupid — you knew it was a thinly veiled demand to go away. To let the grown ups talk, as if you were not one of them.

“I—”

“Mm, good idea,” Evelyn cooed calmly – but the bulgy-eyed tight-lipped look she shot you snapped behave. “I’ll have an ice water.”

“Me too,” said John, arm hung insouciantly over the back of the sofa. “Lil’ slice o’ lime would be nice, eh?”

You scoffed. “Sure,” you grumbled, vitriolic facetiousness bleeding through every word. You pushed yourself up from the couch and thundered out of the room.

“You’re a doll,” John called after you, and you could hear the smugness coating his throat, thick as honey.

Prick. Prick.

You murmured it over and over under your breath as you steamed towards the kitchen, your angry boots echoing out in clunks with every step on his parquet floorboards. Only once you found your way to the kitchen entrance did you stop in your tracks, eyes raking over the cluttered counters and the open door to an outdoor veranda.

You didn’t have to pour them drinks. You didn’t have to do anything. You were as much an adult as any of them, regardless of how egregiously they patronised you, or how many years of life they had gained on you.

No, you could busy yourself with something else entirely.

You had a treasure to find.

The panties you fatuously left in his truck just to spite him. You wanted them back.

It made your head muzzy with unease to think of him sitting across from your siblings, chatting away about something innocuous, all the while your dirty little secret was tucked away in the back of his mind. Stashing it up like a slug in the chamber of a rifle. Ready to fire it whenever the opportunity presented itself, whenever you displeased him.

What could he have done with them? Perhaps he threw them away, tossed them in the trash where they belonged, or dumped them in the crick so he could be rid of them. Maybe he left them by the door, in anticipation of returning them. Maybe he has them in his pocket.

You started with the coat rack by his front door. Skulking around on the tips of your leather toes, you stuck your fingers in every pocket of every jacket, no luck.

Checked the laundry – fucking chaotic as it was in there, reeked of his sweat and the loamy smell of farm work. His boxers and sweat-stained t-shirts piled in baskets, plaid flannels tossed unlovingly over an ironing board, black triangular burns of a dropped iron painting the blue foam.

The richly heady scent in there made you dizzy and hot on the back of your neck. Made your stomach flutter. Smelled like the barn. Like him bending you over the hay.

No panties in there, either, and you dug through everything. Left it messier than it was when you got there, but you could be near certain he wouldn’t even notice.

Upstairs, next.

Crept up them as quietly as you could, begrudging the cries of the old wood as you made your way up. You noticed, as you made it to the landing, that all of the doors to old bedrooms were closed; those of his brothers, and his parents, sealed off like tombs.

It made you swallow. The air was heavier up there, dense with dust and solitude. It was hotter, too, all of the warmth of the lower storey funnelled up the stairs and pumped into the mezzanine, and it was pyretic just to breathe it.

One door was open, though, barely ajar. A tawny wax canvas jacket with a brown corduroy collar hung from the top of the old door. You recognised it immediately – John’s jacket. Old, worn-out, might have been his father’s, just like his hat. His bedroom, you were sure. You slithered towards it, holding your breath as devotedly as you might while submerged underwater.

And as you got closer, you spotted it – a glimmer of white, the tongue of pointelle cotton sticking out of an open pocket on his coat. Right there.

“Fuck y’think you’re doin’?” Came a bark from the stairs, and you jumped like a startled cat.

John came hounding towards you once he made it to the landing, and you immediately backed away from his door. You spun around to inch away, hoping you’d end up in a bathroom with a door that locked, but it became quickly obvious that you had nowhere to run.

Exasperation radiated from him with each ragged breath – sick and tired more than furious, it made you shrink all the same. With a few short strides he was behind you, and you chirped in fright when he grabbed you by your ponytail and yanked you back like a puppy on a lead.

He held your hair in a fist, pulling your head against his chest, angled back so you could look up at him from behind you.

“Lookin’ for something?” He asked throatily, a low growl, accusation on his tongue.

You yelped when he lightly tugged your ponytail, seemed to you like he did it just to make you squeak. “I was – I was just looking for the bathroom.”

“Liar,” he grunted.

“I’m n–”

“You’re in my good graces for now, honey,” he muttered, as his head craned beside yours, wiry beard grazing your cheek, “on account of your lil’ present.”

Your ribs clamped shut around your lungs. Fingertips turned ice cold. Present. Such a euphemistic way to put it. A present. You froze when you felt his hand on your buttock, wide enough to cup it, fixing into place over the wound he had already left there.

“But don’t you push your luck.”

Then he squeezed, and you shrieked, muffled quickly by a winded whimper — the pain as blinding and searing as a branding iron, shape of his hand all but cooked permanently into your skin. The palm of his hand may as well have been barbed, pierced the skin with a million little needles, it might have even hurt less.

“That hurts,” you whined, cleaved to him by his grip on your hair.

“Good,” he growled.

Only then did he let you go, after twisting your body around to face the direction of the stairs.

“Go’on,” he barked, goading you forward with a smack on your ass. “Get.”

You meandered ahead like it hurt to walk.

John hoped it did. He hoped that every time you moved, every time you sat down, every time you accidently brushed it with the caress of your skirt, you thought of him. Of every apology he struck out of you. Of every line you’ve ever crossed.

Oh, what he’d give to see it.

He reprimanded himself every time the image crossed his mind, of your supple little ass, defaced by his punishment. He simply couldn’t help it. He imagined that the weal of his hand was raised there, pricked with plum and cherry red, a marker of his authority. Of his territory.

He had to be rid of you. Couldn’t focus on a single word lobbed at him by your diplomat of a brother while you were in the room with him, sucking up all the air and every drop of his attention. The dramatic suck of your teeth as you landed on the brand he gave you, just rubbing it in.

Such a little shit, you were. Intractable animal. Asked you to fix a drink, and you couldn’t even do that.

No, you slinked around his home instead, sticking your misbehaving little fingers into every room, filling his house up with the smell of you. Good thing he caught you before you snuck into his bedroom, leaving trails of you in his only refuge. He wouldn’t be able to sleep if you had.

He kept a pointed glare hitched on your back as he followed you, limbs and teeth braced to chase and tackle you if you dared to bolt in any direction. But, a good girl for once, you made your way to the stairs, little eyes flicking over your shoulder every now and then to check whether he was still following you. He didn’t let more than two feet stretch between his body and yours. Not stupid enough to take that risk again.

Far less revealing dress this time. He could still see down the neckline, and you had probably made sure of that. Could see the swell of your breasts, soft and round, their rise and fall as you breathed so meekly against him. Couldn’t see your pebbled nipples through the fabric, though. Skirt was quite a bit longer. For the best.

He guessed your sister might have told you to wear it, proper as she was. Always painfully worried about image, and yet he could see right through her and your slimy prick of a brother.

Still had no clue what to make of you.

Were you cognisant of the effect you had on him? Were you toying with him for your own sake, or for theirs?

Either way, he didn’t want it.

Trouble.

Your siblings waited for you at the bottom of the stairs, Evelyn with her arms crossed, and Miles gave him a suspicious glare through his pinched eyes on his way down. Mustn’t have liked the way John handled his little sister. Either too much of a coward, or too hungry for his bargain to say anything. Or, equally as likely, he was utterly blind to your exploits, enigmatic as you were.

Didn’t matter. John could not give less of a shit about your brother’s notions.

“Found ‘er,” he barked, watching as you grouchily wandered between the two of them and swiftly escaped through his front door.

Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose, an exasperated groan. “What was she doing this time?”

John huffed. “Looking for the bathroom,” he said dryly, immediately questioning why he lied for you. So he buffered it; “Apparently.”

“Sorry about her,” she said stiffly, it was evident you’d be receiving a scolding once the lot of you got home. “She’s – ugh. You know.”

He had nothing to say to that.

“Well – thanks for having us by, anyway, Jonathan,” she continued, suddenly perking up, returning to her prim and proper self. “Hope you’ll think about it? Just give us a call, will you? Or – drop by, you know, whenever. Door’s always open.”

He nodded apathetically. “Uh-huh.”

She returned with a nod of her own, a hopeful one, before she tucked her laptop under her arm and followed out after you, where you waited winsomely at the top of the porch steps.

Miles sauntered towards him, then, thumbs tucked aloofly into the pockets of his jeans, until one hand landed on John’s shoulder. Gave him a squeeze, tighter than would be friendly. His jovial smile was translucent, and it faded fast, once the girls were out of earshot.

“Don’t you fuck me on this, Jonathan,” he said derisively, snarled under breath.

John chewed on nothing. His hands were in fists of their own volition. If he were to speak he’d say something regrettable, he knew himself well enough to be certain of that. So he said nothing, only glowered at the man who all but threatened him.

“It’s the best offer we’re ever gonna get,” Miles rigidly insisted. “You know that as well as I do. We’ll be under in two years. Three if we’re lucky. This ain’t our world anymore.”

John took measured breaths through his nose. Licked his teeth. The urge to maul the man like a bear rankled in every muscle. You probably wouldn’t forgive him, if he did such a thing.

“You wanna keep that hand?” He asked hoarsely, monotone, through a clenching jaw.

Miles grinned at that, as sunny as ever, before landing two genial pats on John’s shoulder.

“S’alright,” he said, as he stepped back, fixing his black hat to the top of his head. Shot a glance at Simon, who hovered behind John like a shadow, until then unnoticed. “You’ll come around.”

You had left your bedroom door open when you put yourself to bed that night.

Not to let anyone in, God forbid; though you did find yourself seeing the cowboy’s silhouette in your doorframe, a shadow in your periphery. Your heart flitted in your chest before you blinked him away.

Instead the decision was some callback to your teenagehood. You had learned at fourteen that your cast iron doorknob squealed and clattered in dispute when you twisted it; loud enough to alert your father whenever you attempted to sneak out of the house after nightfall. Through trial and error, you discovered that if you left your oaken door ajar, only slightly, it would appear closed from the corner of the hall – where daddy would peek around before barking, good night, Honeybee.

You were an adult now, though, and your father was long gone. For a time your brother tried to adopt the habit of monitoring you, but it was futile, even in your youth.

You confounded even yourself with your precaution. You weren’t going anywhere, were you? No rules you intended to break?

Your toes twitched. And your fingers twiddled. You squeezed your eyes shut, as if holding them closed for long enough would trick your mind into sleep, and didn’t instead focus the entirety of your attention on the still lingering sting of Mr Price’s hand.

You couldn’t help but circle like a vulture the memory of the ground under your knees, the hay under your elbows. The barbaric clap of his hand on your skin, the grinding of your kneecaps into the gravelly dirt on every thrust. What you daydreamed his expression might have been as he hurled his retributive hand into the bare skin of your cheek.

Might he have been frowning? Grinning? Did he inspect the damage of his handiwork very closely? Did he let his eyes linger on your curves and valleys longer than he should have?

What went through his mind as he let his thumb venture down the cleft of you, as he pushed the tip into your slit through your sodden gusset? Might he have been marvelling in the wetness? Repulsed by its implication?

What was he going to do with your knickers, your present as he called it? You imagined them tangled in his fingers, tucked into his fist in his pocket. Him pinching the fabric between his thick fingers as he spoke to his ranchmen. Would he tell his foreman about it? Would he show him?

Now you were entirely awake. Glaring holes into your plaster ceiling, listening to the hammering of your heart in your ears.

Baking alive in your bed, you were covered only by your thin cotton sheet, and even that was too hot. You sweltered in it, a torrid heat that made your hair crispy and skin itchy. Sweat beaded along your brow, clammy on the back of your neck, and no matter how you laid, you found no comfort. No relief.

Soon, you had slipped out of bed completely.

You had not decided on a course of action, yet you crept through the gap in your bedroom door. The moonlit hallway moaned grumpily as you slithered down the stairs, ensuring the patter of your bare feet on the hardwood was as silent as you could muster.

Plucked your father’s old Carhartt chore coat from its hook by the back door, canvassy and speckled with mud, and pulled it over your bare arms to provide at least some protection from the night. It was longer than your floral linen nightie, short and sheer as it was. You didn’t bother with shoes, your seasoned feet were well used to tip-toeing around the prairies bare. With a careful push of the screen door you stepped out onto the veranda, following your nose without the need for a torch.

The night air was a cool relief, gentle and calming on your febrile skin. The quiet song of crickets filled the breezeless air, the occasional cry of a coyote in the far distance. Kept at bay by the guardian dogs that littered your ranch. Sometimes you thought you could sleep out there, curled up in the grass like a barn cat, if it weren’t for the gnats.

You knew the path to Mr Price’s property so well you could navigate it with your eyes shut. Every rock to skip over, every fallen fence post, every tree marking the way. Nonetheless the swollen moon glowed unfettered by clouds, bathing the grassy hills in ultramarine and illuminating the way as you hopped his decrepit fence.

You had a plan.

Knew where the knickers were. In the pocket of his canvas jacket, hung on his door. He wouldn’t be expecting you to sneak in after dark, so surely his guard would be down. He’d be sat with his feet up in his lonely sitting room, cigar hooked in his finger, watching baseball highlights or whatever else solitary men busied themselves with. You were sure he wouldn't be sleeping yet. It wasn’t even ten at night, knowing him, he probably only turned in an hour or two ago.

His ominous homestead came into view through the cottonwood trees, as you scampered between their trunks and over the vibrant underbrush. You creeped around the front of the house, silent step after silent step, hoping to spot an open window.

And you found one, barely open, a sash window raised only an inch — you stuck your nosy fingers between the gap, carefully lifting the heavy pane by its dark-stained trim. Slipped inside like a little burglar.

It was dark inside. You found yourself in what looked like a study, bulky mahogany desk in the centre of the room, spinning chair tucked underneath it. It was busy, filled to the brim with clutter and signs of life – seemingly untouched, layered in dust like it had been long abandoned. You supposed a man like Mr Price didn’t give much time to studying.

You took a single step, and froze – your chore coat rustled loudly, dangerously so, even with a mere breath it threatened to alert your reticent neighbour to your intrusion. So you cautiously slipped your arms from its roomy sleeves, and gently left it in a pile by the very window through which you had trespassed.

Now truly silent you inched towards the foyer like a spider. Every step whisper silent, moved on the balls of your feet, swallowed shallow breaths.

The light was on in the kitchen – must be in there, you thought, and you avoided going anywhere near it. Instead you slithered up the staircase, one by one, where the faintest amber glow poured from an open door. As you retraced your steps to the landing, along the loft, to his door – the coat was gone.

You would have cursed if you could speak aloud. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You could well have turned and left, abandoned the expedition altogether and prayed he didn’t hear you escaping. But you were in deep, now. Deep enough that giving up felt like a greater risk than persevering. Sunk cost.

He must have hung the coat on the back of his door, or maybe dumped it on the end of his bed, or tossed it over the back of a chair. Perhaps he wore it out for the day, ensuring the panties were on his person, in case you dared to commit the very crime you now did.

With kittenish fingers on the door, you eked it open, and its old dry hinges whimpered with the movement. Peeking through, you saw the origin of the faint light was seeping from a separate room; an ensuite, likely, though his bedroom was still bathed in darkness.

It was different than how you had imagined it. You pictured something sparse, messy, beer bottles on the chest-of-drawers and a tissue box by the bed. A bachelor suite.

Instead, it was well-kept. A painting of a pine-coated landscape hung over his bed, framed in ornately carved wood. His bed was made, an old hand-made quilt folded over by the head, and a plaid woolen blanket draped over the end. Little picture frames sat in a line on his dresser, too dark to see of who – but there were three of them, so you could guess. Two brothers and a pair of parents.

His room smelled of him, warm and musky, rich with the terpenic scent of chypre cologne and cigar smoke. It made your mouth water.

Then, you found them.

Your little cotton knickers. Hung from the brass knob of the top drawer of his dresser. Bright white against the darkly stained pine.

You swallowed and it went down your throat like broken glass. He hadn’t even hidden them. Brazenly hung them on display for anybody to see.

Foolish of him.

You glissaded towards the chest-of-drawers, plucked them from the knob with shaky fingers, and triple checked they were yours. And they were, absolutely – you could tell by the little satin rose of pink ribbon that adorned the front of them.

Relief rinsed you warm and sweet once they were bundled in your hand, objective achieved. Yours again. You only needed to–

“Adding burglary to the list, are you?”

The rumbling voice blurted out from behind you and you sprung from the ground like a rabbit, squealing in the shock that wracked you.

You swivelled in a blink with your heart in your throat, facing the man who had caught you. Still shaking with adrenaline, you could scarcely wrangle your tongue to utter a single word in your defence.

“I’m – they’re–”

“Didn’t expect that,” he drawled.

It was difficult to make him out, the tall silhouette of the prodigious man against the light of his ensuite bathroom, broad shoulders rocking as he sauntered in your direction. You watched in silence as he tucked in the tongue of the powder-blue towel wrapped around his hips. His tousled hair was wet and spiked – freshly showered, you guessed, the benzoin scent of his soap lingered in the air around him.

“I’m – I’m not burg – burgling,” you stammered, finally finding your words, you straightened your spine. “I’m taking them back.”

“No you’re not,” he grumbled, edging towards you, heavy thuds with each arrogant step.

You were frozen in place. Shivering as though cold. Toes digging into the hardwood like it might fall out from beneath you.

The moonlight glaring through his open window barely illuminated him on his approach; carving out the valleys of his gladiatorial chest, thick pectorals cast shadows over the well-padded abdominals of his bare stomach. His fuzzy towel sat precariously low on his hips, your impudent stare couldn’t help but trace the damp brown curls that trailed down from his navel.

“They’re not yours,” you disputed, balling the soft panties in your fist and tucking your arms behind your back in a juvenile effort to hide them from him.

Only once his face was doused in the silver light from the window could you make out his features; lids hung low over dark eyes, goading lips in a stern curl under his beard.

“Yeah, they are,” he challenged, low voice oozing scorn. A shrinking foot away from you, you felt the heat of him radiating out from him, licking at your skin with warm little tongues. “They were a gift.”

Your brows knit together as you endeavoured to stand your ground, tilting your head back so that you could glower up at him. You wrestled with yourself for any defences and found none. Nothing to say for yourself, no excuse to muster, no dispute to mount.

“They were not a gift,” was all you said, puerile as you were.

“Then they’re a fine,” he grunted, smirk fading, reaching a sturdy arm towards and around you.

His indignant hand gripped your bicep, reeling it out from behind your back and pulling it towards him with absurd ease. You resisted – attempted to, at least – but any resilience in your arm was quick to falter, and he presented your balled fist palm-up like you had offered the prize to him of your own volition.

Skittish eyes darted from your hand to his steely lour, you imagined yourself flipping a coin.

Admit defeat; relinquish your cotton sin to its new owner, embolden him with your acquiescence, and find a way to live with the knowledge of their presence in his pocket. Or, better yet – snatch your knickers in a tight fist and scurry into the night, throw them into the woodburner when you get home, and pretend none of it had ever happened.

Landed on tails. You impulsively yanked your fist from his grip, ducked past him with a hop and a skip, before bolting on your shaky legs towards his bedroom door.

But as if he had readily anticipated that very move, predictable as you were, his thick arms had snatched you up before you had even noticed your capture. You squeaked in dispute, his arms like pythons constricted around you so tightly that they forced a desperate mewl from your throat. He riveted you firmly against his chest, tips of your toes barely grazing the hardwood beneath you.

Jaw pressed to the side of your head, his breathing was warm and strained against the burning shell of your ear.

“You want them back,” he rumbled, the barbarity in his voice sending cold terror down the nape of your neck. “You wear ‘em.”

Sipping quick and shallow breaths, you didn’t dare wriggle or buck in defiance of him. Not this time. There was a threat in his tone, ferine yet forthright, oozing from his throat like molten iron.

“Y-” you stuttered dizzily, heart thundering in your ears. “You want me to put them on?”

“Uh-huh,” he answered, cocksure, the vibration of his frayed voice prickled in your skin.

He released you, then, and you dropped to your bare feet with a quiet thud. Fist clenched tightly around your ball of cotton, you sucked in a quivering breath before daring to move.

He crossed his arms imperiously, sniffed gruffly, already impatient. “Put ‘em on.”

You nervously unfurled the white floral fabric from between your fingers. Checking them briefly to ensure you didn’t put them on back-to-front, you spread the waistband, and began to lean forward.

“Other ones off first,” he groused, and you blinked at him over your shoulder.

“I’m-” you began, cutting yourself off with a swallow as you meekly turned to face him. Warm blood rushed to the apples of your cheeks. “I haven’t got any on.”

You swore a smirk tugged at the corner of his ever-severe mouth, but he simply let a hoarse breath out through his nose. Letting your confession float unchallenged in the turgid air between you.

“You’re a real troublemaker,” he chided, through gritted teeth. “Aren’t you.”

“I’m not,” you retorted, feeble and unpersuasive.

“No?” He sneered. “You break into my house in that pathetic little dress and no panties on, and you wouldn’t call that making fuckin’ trouble?”

“I-”

“Put them on.”

His order was as hard and piercing as a bullet, and it turned your blood runny as water, flooding hot into the most illicit parts of you.

Made obsequious, you followed his command. Bent forward and stepped your first toe through the leg of your panties, delicately placing your foot back to the floor, then followed the other.

You drew careful air through wet lips as you shimmied the thin fabric up your thighs, forced to lift the slippery hem of your nightie as you adjusted them around your hips, a gentle snap as you flick the elastic of the hem to fix it over your unmarred cheek. You winced as the gusset sat flush with your pussy, cringing at the knowledge they had already been worn – they were dry, now, at least, no longer sodden with lust and sweat. Satisfied with their positioning, you floated the thin skirt back down to cover them, stroking your hips to settle the fabric.

John stood across from you with his wide hand over his mouth, thumb and forefingers rubbing his cheeks as if releasing some tension in his grinding jaw. The rigid muscles of his arms strained and twitched under his ruddy skin. Tension visible from where you stood.

With a huff, he straightened his spine, and your stare jumped to the long weight under his towel. Dawned on you that he wore nothing underneath it. Suddenly felt light-headed.

He grunted. “Show ´em to me.”

Your lips parted just slightly, toes curled, you obliged him. With impish fingers you clutched the lacy hem of your slip, coaxing it upward, you folded it into pleats in your fists. Up, up, up. The cool of the air between your legs was almost a relief.

He inched forward. Closer to you.

“Turn around.”

Sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, and worried for a moment you might chew it off. With your skirt hitched up, you spun around slowly on the tips of your toes until your nose was a few inches from his dresser.

You felt his warm breathing on the top of your head, he was behind you. Sandwiched you between his body and his chest-of-drawers. Your only hope of escape was to do what you were told.

With his thumb he grazed the hem of your panties where it sat against your disfigured cheek, and the sudden sting made you twitch.

“S’that hurt?” He asked roughly, and for a delirious moment you thought you might have heard some tenderness in his tone.

You nodded flimsily. “Yes.”

“Mh,” he grunted, whole hand ghosting over the sore skin as if to feel the texture of your wound on his palm. “Didn’t teach you a thing, did it.”

“What was it s’posed to teach me,” you breathed, careful with your words.

His paw raked over your side, fixing at your hip. “To stay the fuck away.”

“I can–” You panted, tongue heavy in your mouth, “I can go away. I can go.”

His domineering hands were at your waist, the hem of your little dress scooped up with them.

“Not now, you won’t.”

Your stomach turned to lead.

Suddenly possessed by the skittish need to bolt, you lurched to the side to un-wedge yourself from between him and the dresser – let out a squeal when he predictably ensnared you with leviathan arms. He wrangled you like cantankerous livestock, growling as he wrestled you until your back landed against the drawers.

“Mister–” You yelped tightly, all air squeezed out of you by his restraint.

“Play stupid games, girl,” he snarled, “Y’win stupid prizes.”

You whimpered, blinking up at him through fluttering lashes, a hair's breadth away from you. His eyes were almost sinister, pinned to you, inky black pools blown wide in the darkness. Predatory.

“I’m sorry—” you squeaked, flustered and winded.

Almost cracked a smirk. “Too late for that.”

Even as he threatened you, you were helplessly magnetised to him. His harsh glare oozed hatred and hunger and it made your heart buzz like a bee trapped in the cage of your ribs. He pinned you forcefully to his chest-of-drawers, a brass knob pressed into your spine, and like a broken filly your resistance turned to butter. Unctuous and supple.

You weren’t certain whether he had sensed your capitulation, or if he simply steamrolled ahead in his blind paroxysm whether you liked it or not. His titanic hands had you by the thighs, and he jounced you up, propping you up on the very edge of a drawer that stuck out a mere inch from the dresser. You chirped as the hard wooden edge cut into your raw bottom – hurt less, somehow. Distracted.

He kept your thighs jammed tightly together by his legs, and used a single hand to cuff both of your wrists, pinned them to your sternum.

Your vision was blurry, skin burning so hot you could sear something on it – you looked down, and his towel had been shirked from his hips, cock landed heavy on your belly.

Heavy, the operative word – you could see the flesh of your belly pillowing out around its trunk, thick and lengthy, shaft leading down to a bed of dark curls at the base of his stomach. Your throat swelled shut as you stared at it, dizzy at the sight, as he hooked two fingers into the waistband of your knickers.

He yanked the front of your panties down with impatience, unveiling your mound and making the taut elastic cut into the flesh of your hips. Didn’t pull them off all the way, though, only allowed himself enough room to feed his cock through the gap between your cunt and the gusset of your underwear.

The lips of your pussy spread like petals as he wedged his cock between them, and your breath lodged in your throat – but he didn’t pierce you with it, not at that angle. The aperture between your cunt and thighs was tight, tight enough for him to gain traction, and it made you whimper.

Only once the round head of his cock was buried in the valley of your pussy did you realise how slick you were. Mortifyingly so. Your syrup had pooled there, undisturbed until he split you open, and now you painted his shaft with it.

He cracked a proud smile. Canines caught the glint of moonlight. His breathing turned ragged and you felt it on your open lips, sucking down the hot air he exhaled, and it made you feel drunk.

“Feral little thing, ain’t ya?” He growled, grinding his cock out of the slit of your thighs before driving it back in, the friction of his shaft against your clitoris made your eyes flutter shut.

You only let out a little mewl in reply, trapped against the hard dresser that shook and clattered with every movement. He fucked the fissure between your thighs and cunt in earnest, and it was somehow embarrassing; that he refused to grant you the dignity of fucking you properly, of surfeiting your starved cunt with even an ounce of real attention. He gripped his cock by the base of his shaft and guided it into the slim gap, offering you only the chafing of his iron-hard length against your pebbled clitoris as he rutted.

It was barely satisfying, but it made you twitch and shiver with a neglected pleasure – just enough to turn you syrupy sweet, not enough to truly sate the little creature in you that put you in this very predicament. You tried to tighten your thighs, firmer than they were already, in the desperate hope that it might augment the pressure of his cock burnishing your slit, might drive it in at the right angle to break into you.

But it wasn’t about you. Your enjoyment was inconsequential to him.

This was your punishment.

You could tell he approached the zenith of his own pleasure as his breathing became frayed and arrhythmic, and his thrusts unsteady – he stilled, large fist gripping his cock, and while his blunt head was still tunnelled into your knickers, he began to shuck his dick from its base, jerking off into the gap.

It was mortifying – besides the denigration itself, of having him masturbate himself with you – the downright pitiful desperation you were dripping with. Coating his cock in it and yet remaining ignored. The tingles of an orgasm fluttered around you like a butterfly you could not catch, coiled up and unwinded over and over with every inward and outward rake of his shaft.

You had no freedom to move while you were entangled with him; legs pinned shut and feet dangling off the ground, hands manacled to your chest so tightly your fingertips went cold. You had no option but to take what little he gave you.

He let out a stifled groan, and you gasped when you realised he was coming — you watched his face as he finished himself, as you felt his come pump into the gusset of your panties, filling up the gap between your lips as he chased a few final ruts. You felt his cock jolt with the aftershocks of his climax, and he rested the entirety of his weight against you, forcing the rest of the air out of your feverish lungs. His jaw was viciously tight, huffing through his nose like a bull, and his squinting blue eyes were glued to you. Lucent with spite and a potent satisfaction.

“Y-you–”

“Don’t make a damn fuss,” he muttered wryly, short-winded.

You whined as he tugged his cock from between your thighs, returning your knickers to their chaste position with a snap of the elastic over your mons.

“You shouldn’t have – have done that–”

He all but snorted at that, as he stepped back from you – let you fall to your feet from where he had jammed you against the drawers. Kept your hands shackled together, though. “What else did you come here for, then, eh?”

My panties stayed unspoken, because it would have been a lie.

You flinched when he raised his free hand, but he only grazed your jaw with his thumb. “Wanted a fuck, did you?”

Your head nodded itself despite your lack of instruction. Subconscious. Too humiliating to confirm of your own will.

“Ain’t gonna happen,” he grunted, as he finally released your cuffed hands, dropping down to pick up the towel he had left in a pile on the floor.

You moaned, rubbing your tender wrist, light-headed after the blustering outburst. Felt his come between your folds, slippery and hot, it escaped through the groin of your knickers and ran down the inside of your thigh.

“Why not,” you whinged, quietly, as though hopeful he wouldn’t hear it.

“Gotta earn it,” he jeered. “I ain’t rewarding your fuckin’ behaviour.”

You wouldn’t tell him even this was a reward, in itself. The frustration was blistering hot, thumping in your temples. “I hate you.”

“I bet,” he snorted, as he fixed his towel around his waist once again. “G’on. Go home.”

You scowled at him, lips curled and brows knitted tight. You wanted to throw something at him.

“Fine,” you griped, as you reached under your dress to pull down your defiled knickers.

“Don’t you dare,” he snapped. “You keep ‘em on and you walk in ‘em.”

Your jaw went slack. “Are you serious?”

“Does it look like I’m jokin’?”

It didn’t. Not a bit. He wore that same rigid face that sunk in his features every time he scolded you, lips in a line under his dense beard, brows flat and heavy over his squinting eyes. Somehow made more severe while he was without a shirt, you could see every ireful twitch of the worn muscles that rippled under his sun-baked skin. He could hurt you worse, if he wanted to. The thought makes you sweat.

“Fine,” you groaned, again, and you impudently rammed him with your shoulder as you stormed past him and out of his bedroom door.

You heard his low chortle on your way out, but he didn’t call out for you. No more snide remarks. You bashfully returned to the dark study, picked up your father’s chore coat, and slipped out the same window you had broken into.

The walk back was sticky and uncomfortable. Suddenly you felt like buzzing insects were hovering around you, landing on your skin, hoping to poke in and suck you dry. The baying coyotes sounded closer than before, just over the hill. The moonlit air wasn’t cool enough to mollify your temper. The wheaten grass was sharp and splintery under your bare feet. The come in your gusset was viscid and gooey, glued between your thighs with every step.

Yet, you were grotesquely proud of it. Wearing the evidence that Mr Price wasn’t as mighty as he purported to be. He didn’t ride a high horse. He came in your panties and made you walk in it, as a punishment.

Truly depraved man. You knew that confidently, now. If he thought he had deterred you, he was sorely mistaken.

You didn’t bother being quiet when you finally returned home after a slow and sulky walk through the night. Dumped your jacket on the floor by the back door rather than hanging it on its hook, trudged up the crying stairs and shut your door with a clank once you got to your bedroom. You tore the linen sheet off your bed and left it astray, before falling immediately into your mattress, flat on your stomach.

You fell straight to sleep.

a/n: far be it from me to insert a political statement into my cowboy porn, but as a non-american depicting a sanitised rural USA, i feel the need to make clear my stance on everything happening over there (and the ripple effects it is having on the rest of the world): fuck trump and all his nazi partymen, fuck everyone who voted for him, and fuck every non-american who would have if they could. if you are supportive of or ambivalent about the oligarch-cum-drinking, bold-faced-fascist ideology of he and his ilk, just know that every breath you take is a fucking waste of oxygen. and if you're upset by that sentiment then fuck you too. no middle ground on this! love ya

#john price x reader #price x reader #captain price x reader #captain price #john price x f!reader #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cowboy price #bitterfruit fics

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apollo41writes · 1 day ago

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I am sick but I came up with this idea and I need it out of my brain so I can finally sleep in peace!

So random prompt I guess. A fake/pretend marriage between Sanji and Zoro, but set in a Bridgerton-like world!

I promise it works! Grab a cup of tea and hear me out.

About Zoro:

First of all, Zoro is a trans male AFAB. But because society still sucks the only place where he can be himself is at home with his sister Perona and his adoptive father Dracule.

Plenty of space to add things about Zoro's backstory as well! Even Kuina as the catalyst of Zoro coming out to his family as trans, and the whole drama of her dying and promising that he would shape his life however he wants.

Zoro obviously loves and respects Mihawk because he did save his life and gave him a home and a family when Zoro lost his (yes, Zoro still keeps the Roronoa family name because they are another influential family or something). But Zoro also hates him, because Mihawk forces Zoro to debut in society like a girl, hoping he would find a husband for his "second daughter". Hopefully a husband that will understand that "Azura" is actually Zoro, and that will not cause a scandal when he realizes that it will be Zoro he will be married to.

Zoro also loves Perona, because once Zoro told her that he was a boy and not a girl, Perona immediately respected his wishes and started referring to him as a male. But Zoro still hates that after that he basically was still forced to participate in Perona's fake tea parties or make believe stories, this time as the prince or, when she was in a particularly grim mood (which is quite often) as the evil guy in one of her overdramatic fantastical scenarios. Also, as soon as Mihawk told them that Zoro was gonna debut as a girl with her deadname, Zoro went back to being Perona's favorite doll to dress up before a ball/party in high society.

(Zoro all dolled up and being the angriest looking wallflower ever is just an image that will be stuck in my brain forever.)

About Sanji:

So picture Sanji, the third heir of the (in)famous Vinsmokes and a man that everyone thought was dead, that suddenly pops up out of nowhere and becomes immediately the most talked about bachelor and the dream match for every meddling mama in high society. After all, they see Sanji as an extremely attractive man with perfect manners, which is absurdly galant with women and has the whole mysterious aura that attracts people like flies. Also, you know, there's the Vinsmokes name and fortune for whatever lucky girl manages to marry him and give him a male heir. (Sanji is still Sanji, so he is still gonna melt and simp over every woman. Which just means that after a while he does get the womanizer/pervert reputation.)

There is obviously a lot of gossiping and speculation about Sanji's past, but nobody knows what actually happened. Most people believe the story Judge spins: Sanji had been lost at sea during a storm while they were traveling on a ship, and that he must have washed ashore somewhere far away. That a kind man found him and took him in, but that Sanji had amnesia and didn't remember anything about his family, so he stayed for years with that man. Judge also kind of spins it to his favor that he told everyone that Sanji died because he wanted to spare the pain to his wife, who was already sick. But when his wife was on her dying bed she made him promise to look for their lost son, and Judge did so to honor his wife, that he says died of a broken heart because of Sanji's supposed death. (Sanji is ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED by this narrative, of course.)

The reality is that Judge disowned him when he was in his early teens (like 11 or 12) for some stupid reason like "you are too sensitive" (idunnow, just Judge being Judge), and tried to kill him by making it look like an incident. So Sanji really almost drowned, but he was saved by Zeff that saw the attempted murder, and decided to take Sanji in as his own child. And everything was alright for a while; Sanji travelled around Europe with Zeff, who was a renowned chef that cooked for rich people and even royalty. Years after that, Judge comes to him with blackmail/a threat: he either comes back to the family and find a good influential girl to marry, or Judge is gonna kill Zeff. Reason for this is that Judge considers his daughter as his own servant, and plans to never let her marry anyone not to squander the family money. His other sons are pieces of shit that think women are only good to be fucked and broken, so they refuse to marry because they want to abuse whores, duel people for petty reasons and get drunk all of the time (still pieces of shit, but of little use to Judge for anything other than running the weapon family business empire). And even when Judge tried to force a marriage to get at least one heir, the poor woman was so severely abused that she killed herself three days after the marriage.

Then Judge found out that Sanji was still alive (maybe from a society paper with a portrait and "his protege" after they got invited to cook for the King) and had him spied on for a while to get some leverage to blackmail him into being his obedient "long lost son" and give him a fucking heir.

Sanji loves Zeff way too much to let anything happen to him, and he decides to sacrifice himself. But he's not a child anymore, and while he's still scared of Judge, he still plans to destroy him once and for all, so he can live peacefully and as he pleases. So he will fake compliance, but will find a way not only to save Jeff, but to ruin the Vinsmokes name once and for all. He just has to carefully move through high society while he does that. While also making sure that he doesn't break a poor woman's heart or ruin her reputation.

Here comes the actual "plot". (I know this post is super long already. Sorry not sorry.)

Judge obviously wants a politically and economically convenient match, so he tries to force Sanji to marry Pudding. And while Sanji thinks that Pudding is perfectly lovely, he also doesn't want to marry her on principle, not only because he wants to disobey Judge, but also because he doesn't like Pudding's family and doesn't want to drag her in all of the familial drama. (Plenty of space for the whole Charlotte family bullshit as well, but I'm not gonna delve into it rn.)

Judge obviously has a whole scheme for trapping him in marrying Pudding (and yes, she is a "willing" part of the scheme). Like, one of those almost fake scandals where the two are found out in a compromising situation and are forced to marry not to ruin the family name bullshit. Which would absolutely work with Sanji since he would never hurt Pudding's reputation.

Everything is ruined by Zoro's abysmal sense of direction. While trying to hide from "Azura's suitors"/getting the fuck out of there, he ruins Judge's carefully planned fake misunderstanding by being the one that accidentally falls into Sanji's lap in a "secluded alcove" and is found out by gossip prone mamas in the compromising situation. Judge isn't happy about it, but still agrees to it because of Zoro's own family name and fortune that will become Sanji's, and the reputation of the Dracule himself which can still be useful to Judge.

Zoro doesn't really care for his own reputation, he almost thinks this is just perfect: if he's ruined nobody will want to marry him and he can live as he pleases. But Mihawk makes it plainly clear that if he does that he will ruin any chance for his sister to have a good match. And Perona is a romantic that hopes for a soulmate to have kids and a happy family with, so Zoro sacrifices himself for her sake.

Sanji thinks that this is just perfect. Judge was played by his own scheming! Now, he just needs to deal with his soon to be wife. She doesn't seem to want the marriage at all, so maybe if he explained the situation she would accept a marriage of convenience, and once Judge is finally dealt with, he can get an annulment for the marriage without ruining Azura's reputation.

After Sanji explains, Zoro is elated: he doesn't actually have to be a wife! And he even admits to Sanji about how he is actually a man and would like to be called Zoro. Sanji is obviously a little bit confused at first, but Zoro kind of implies that he will agree to the farcical marriage only if Sanji treats him like a man, so at the end of the day he agrees that at least in private Zoro can be whoever he wants and Sanji won't bother him.

Obviously Sanji gets rid of all the staff Judge picked for the "happy couple"'s new home, and he replaces them with both people that he trusted from his previous life with Jeff and that will never betray him by spilling his secrets to Judge, and with people picked by Dracule Mihawk's staff that already know about the whole "Zoro, not Azura" thing. Judge doesn't like it, but has to compromise because Mihawk insists that the house (the Roronoa estate maybe) and staff are his gift for the happy couple and he won't budge on it. (Zoro asked for it obviously, and Mihawk agreed since Zoro doesn't ever ask for things and he does feel a bit guilty for forcing Zoro into the marriage.)

After that there is obviously the slow burn of Sanji and Zoro actually falling in love with each other, and probably lots of shenanigans with the rest of the Strawhat crew that are members of high society as well. Or part of the staff, don't know... Not gonna do a deep dive on them as well, but they are there and crazy like always.

My brain is stunk on the idea of Sanji and Zoro riding horses together (with Zoro being dumbstruck by how pretty and carefree Sanji is; also lots of bickering because Zoro almost gets lost in a property he's supposed to know better). Sanji and Zoro having a sparring fencing match (and Sanji is both pissed and turned off when he realizes that Zoro is A BEAST when it comes to fighting and he's absolutely a better swordsman than Sanji); Zoro and Sanji getting super drunk after getting home early from a party (everyone thinks they are rushing home because they are still in the "honeymoon" phase, instead Sanji dragged Zoro home because Zoro was about to punch one of Sanji's brothers after they made fun of Sanji & made inappropriate comments on Perona); Zoro insisting that Sanji let him try smoking (and promptly making a fool of himself by choking on the smoke, while also questioning why the smells if smoke has become so comforting when the taste of tobacco sucks so much). Also Sanji cooking for Zoro until he finds out all of Zoro's favorite dishes (and being appalled by Zoro's lack of decorum when eating something he likes). Literally just these two dorks falling in love in the most domestic way.

Of course at first Sanji is still reluctant to let Zoro do manly things, since he struggles to see Azura as anything other than the lovely lady he transforms into for balls and parties. But slowly things start to change and he gets to know Zoro for real and, "Zoro has such terrible manners! How could he be anything but a man?". He obviously has to deal with the whole "does this mean that I am attracted by a man?" thing as well once he realizes that he doesn't mind being married to Zoro. And then he thinks that he doesn't even mind the idea of calling Zoro his husband and not his wife! Wtf is wrong with him?! And on and on with the crisis.

Zoro isn't doing much better because he never thought he could find marriage such a bearable ordeal. Sure, he constantly bickers with Sanji about almost anything, and he doesn't get the whole "women should be cherished" and all. But Sanji is also respectful of his boundaries and not once has he called Zoro by his deadname in private; rather, he almost slipped and used "Zoro" at parties as well multiple times. Zoro also knows that Sanji finds him attractive when he's all dolled up as Azura for whatever high society event they have to attend. But Zoro is not Azura and doesn't want to pretend he is; so will Sanji ever actually love him as a partner, an equal, a man, or will they just split and go their separate ways when they finally deal with Judge?

And in the meantime they still have to find a way to get Zeff to safety and destroy the Vinsmokes (which, Sanji realizes is quite more complicated that he thought at first, since he actually hopes to save his sister somehow after she shows how much she still cares about Sanji; not his brothers tho, they are still assholes).

The rest of the gang obviously helps Zoro and Sanji (lots of trying to actually get them together as well, since they see the love grow between them).

As for the smutty part, they get there eventually. It's for sure more of a slow burn thing compared to the usual Bridgerton vibe.

And that's all I have. I'm gonna go to sleep. Do with this damn thing whatever you want, cause I sure am NOT gonna write this monster.

#one piece #prompt #zosan #sanzo #zoro x sanji #trans male zoro #roronoa zoro #sanji one piece #sanji vinsmoke #fake relationship #bridgerton au #bridgerton aesthetic #honestly don't know what to tag this as #for real do whatever you want with all of this #i do not have the time or brain power to do anything with it #goodnight prompts #long post #like seriously what the fuck #make me stop and go rest

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marymary-diva17 · 2 days ago

Note

I have one and we saw how they react when someone hurt the reader, what if we switch it to where someone hurt their children and here comes a mama hen. I think it would work with tonowari, ronal children and netiriy, jack children.

The world had changed when one becomes a parent, as now they know there is someone they will need all their love and care. A parent will do anything for their kid or kids making sure they are, healthy and happy in their lives. When the situation comes when something wrong has come up that when everything changes. As when alarms of danger go off a parent shall do anything, to make sure their kids is safe and sound.

y/n " ......." as you lay in bed taking some rest as you soon heard movement near you, at the moment as you were trying to understand what was going on.

???? " we should ask mama to take us"

???? " no dads said we shouldn't wake mama up she become very upset, dad said she can be a monster"

????" no mama is no monster"

????? " that what I told dad but he said he has seen stuff in the past, but mama no monster"

y/n " hello my little ones" you had opened your eyes to see three kids standing by you, as you smile at them right now as they looked shocked.

kids " mama"

y/n " now what have you all come here to ask me my loves"

neteyam " well we wanted to go play outside in the meadow of flying lizards, but we need someone to come with us and we want you to take us"

y/n " oh"

kiri " but dads said we shouldn't wake you up and dad said you could be a monster"

y/n " that not very nice of him but you know let go outside it will be fun"

kids " yeah"

y/n " let me get you baby sister first as I have a feeling she up from her nap"

lo'ak " oh she is mama we have been watching her and playing with her, but that not much we can play inside" neteyam had ran to go pick up tuk as you stood up.

y/n " thank you my loves well come on let get going" the kids and you soon leave the home, it didn't take that long to reach the meadow as the kids really wanted to go there anyway.

y/n " okay my babies stay close to where I can see you and if you see anything bad turn around or call for help"

kids " yes mama" the kids had ran off to play as you soon sat down with tuk, as she started babbling on about anything around her making you smile.

????" incoming mama hen incoming mama hen"

y/n " hello toruk makto I can hear you"

Jake " good so where are you and the little ones"

y/n " at the meadow of the flying lizards seeing how the kids wanted to come over here"

neytiro " are they all behaving themselves"

y/n " yes they are my husband"

Jake " well we will be on our way there"

y/n " okay we shall be....."

kids " mommy" the kids scream had drawn you attention as you soon see them coming running towards you, but they were not alone as Thanator was tailing after them. Jake and Neytiro had heard the kids scream but nothing else as the line ended.

y/n " kids" neteyam and kiri had reached you but lo'ak had tripped, you soon grabbed the other two and place them on higher level of ground.

y/n " take you sister lo'ak"

lo'ak " mommy" lo'ak had been able to dash away behind a tree but the beast followed him. you had ran towards the tree and soon reach lo'ak.

lo'ak " mommy"

y/n " it okay baby I'm here I need you to stay behind me and on the count of three run to your siblings, and stay up there for me please" lo'ak had nodded his head.

y/n " one two three" lo'ak soon took off running towards his siblings, as neteyam had helped him up to the higher level.

y/n " hey buddy eyes on me you have to deal with mama bear right now" the creature had roared at you and soon came at you as you ran away, making sure the creates stayed away from the kids. The beast had used it crawls to hit you in the legs sending you to the ground.

y/n " ahhh" The beats had growled at you ready to pounce on you when you had picked up a rock and toss it towards, the beast as you soon got up and ran again. The Thanator soon caught it sense had soon followed after you once again.

y/n " I need to keep going to make sure it those not not go after, the kids I can't let any harm come to my babies" there was so much pain in your body but you kept on going. Until you go to some tree as you were coming up with another plan, when the Thanator had shown up once again.

y/n " I will fight for my kids safety so come at me"

????? " ahhh" soon a scream had been heard as Jake and neytiro had come out of nowhere, with tsu'tey as they start firing towards the Thanator. A few other warriors had come as the Thanatos had soon been chased off.

neytiro " ma y/n" you had fallen to your knees as neytiro came to your aid.

y/n " the kids the kids"

Jake " hush they are safe and sound you need to get you help" the only thing you were able to do was nodded your head, before you had passed out from shock and pain in your body.

hours later

y/n " ......" you soon opened your eyes and soon shot up from where you are laying.

neytiro " ma y/n"

Jake " sweetie you are up"

y/n " the little ones"

Jake " they are over there sleeping they tried to stay up for you. but they soon had fallen asleep"

y/n " are they okay no harm to them"

Jake " they are safe as you keep them safe"

neytiro " you took on that Thanator on your own"

y/n " I couldn't let any harm come to the kids I need to make sure, they were completely okay"

Jake " well you have done a good job my love"

y/n " thank you"

neytiro " here drink this it will help you" neytiro had passed you a cup with in drink, as you soon drank it.

y/n " thank you"

neytiro " you are welcome"

Jake " we have spoken to the clan for the time being, the clan will be limited to area for everyone safety"

y/n " that good to know"

Jake " you fought very well honey good job"

y/n " thank you" your husbands had embrace you with hugs and support, they had also been proud of you as well. They had spent the night by your side to make sure, you were okay and the kids are okay as well.The kids the next day when they woke up had been happy, to see you were okay and gave you hugs. That day everyone was able to see that you will do anything for your kids.

#atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #sully family x reader #avatar 2009 #neytiri x reader #jake x reader #jake x reader x neytiri #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #neytiri x y/n #neytiri x you

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holylulusworld · 2 days ago

Text

Bad day at work (3)

Summary: It’s a bad day at the office.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x fem!Reader

Warnings: short reader, enemies to…, language, banter

Catch up here: Bad day at work (2)

Jensen pushes his glasses back up when you stop in front of his desk. “You can sit at my desk. I’ll be right back with a new mouse. Your laptop will be fixed in no time.” He says, pointing at his desk chair.

“Okay,” you say, fighting the chuckle bubbling up your throat. Jensen looks like an obedient puppy when he pulls the chair for you and offers his seat to you.

“It’s ergonomic and, uh—yeah. Give me ten minutes, and you can go back to work,” he says, turning to leave. “I’ll get the mouse, a brand-new one. What color do you like?”

“Surprise me,” you casually say as you turn your attention toward the knick-knacks on his desk. He’s got lots of comic figurines, funky-looking pens, and pictures of what you assume are his daughters and wife.

You chuckle, imagining he likes to play with the figurines instead of working. When you grab one of the picture frames, he places a hand on your shoulder, making you flinch.

“That’s my sister and my nieces. She’s playing soccer,” he explains, proudly puffing his chest as he tells you about his niece. “Uh—I got the mouse for you.”

“Half the job, done already,” you chuckle. "Here, take your seat back."

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll just sit at Brock’s desk. He’s still out and about,” Jake huffs. The truth is, he was searching for Brock in every nook but didn’t find any trace of his whereabouts. “Let’s see what I can do for your laptop.”

“While you check on my laptop,” you clear your throat to catch Jake’s attention. “Would you mind if I was grabbing something for lunch in the meantime?”

“No, of course not. Go ahead. Get lunch, and I'll check on your laptop. You can get it back in no time.”

You leave the desk to get some food and fresh air. Stuck at your office for most of the time, you rarely get the chance to stretch your legs.

Jake watches you leave, smirking as his eyes land on your ass. He hums and tries to focus on the task at hand, not the things he’d love to do to your sassy ass.

“How is it going?” You ask, walking back toward Jensen’s desk. Plopping down on his chair, you lean back and sigh. “I must get back to work soon.”

“Almost done—” Jensen cocks his head to look at you. His features darken because you dig your fork into the rest of your food. “Are you eating at my computer?”

“What?” You chew on your Chinese take-out. “I’m hungry and have food left. I won’t make your desk dirty.”

His features darken as you keep on stuffing the food into your mouth. “You have no respect for my workplace.” Jensen slowly gets up from the chair to stalk toward you. “You do not eat at someone else’s desk!”

You harrumph. “What do you want me to do? Throw the rest of my food away.”

“I want you to respect my desk, my workplace, and me,” he growls at you. “Who do you think you are?”

“Awe and I believe we are finally getting along,” you slowly get up from his chair to walk toward Brock’s desk. You sit down and start to eat again. “There you go.” You chew audibly. “I’m not eating at your desk any longer.”

“That’s not better!” Jake throws his hands up. “You come here, yelling at me for something someone else did. I tried anything to be nice and fix your problems, but you are still a bitch!”

“Bitch!” You get up from Brock’s chair, throwing your food at Jensen. He dodges your attack, huffing as the food knocks his figurines over. “You’re going to pay for this.”

“What are you going to do, four-eyes?” You sass, putting your hands on your hips. “I bet you don’t even know how to handle a woman. Your only interactions with women are the figurines on your desk.”

“I can handle a woman!” He yells back, not backing down now. “If I see one. But you’re an annoying brat.”

“I thought I’m a bitch,” you chuckle as you stalk toward him. “You know,” you dip your head to look at the empty desks in the IT section. “All of your little gremlins are already home. It’s only you and me, tech nerd. What are you going to do about my bratty ass?”

Tags in reblog.

#jake jensen #x reader #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x y/n #Bad day at work (3)#the losers fanfiction #office au

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aemondapologistfrfr · 2 days ago

Text

Here With You

gawyne x niece!reader

anon request - tytyty for bringing gwayne to my attention

Summary: With war on the horizon your mother sends you to Oldtown to seek safety. Your estranged uncle escorts you back and makes sure you don’t have to want for anything. You’ve never felt more at peace than at his side as he leads you through the clean and welcoming city. Feelings bloom between the both of you and between secret kisses and confessions the two of you become closer than either of you thought reality would offer you.

Warnings: 18+ religious aspects - reader likes to pray but nothing too pious lmfao, like a swear word maybe 2, mentions of the war, time skips, preg!reader at the end, secret kisses, humping, fingering, p in v, breeding kink(lovingly💞), emo asf at the end that i had to add an extra scene bc i couldn’t leave it like that!!!!!

Authors Note: first time writing for this ginger knight and i hope i got him right 🫣 i kinda loved writing this

Word Count: 8.3k i thought this was gonna be chill :)

ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

You’re kneeling next to your mother with your hands folded as you look up at the statue of the Mother. Your eyes are welled with tears as you pray for the strength to get through the journey to Oldtown. You know you’ll have your uncle and a small company but you haven’t seen your uncle in ages. You’re scared to travel with so many strangers and all of them men no doubt. You blink back your tears as your mother grabs your arm and helps you rise.

She leads you out of the sept and your guards fall into a protective formation around you. You both enter the carriage and allow the silence to wash over you as you look at the passing city that you won’t be seeing for some time. Your mother grabs your hands as you pick at your nails and brings them to her lips.

“Tell me what is bothering you, sweet girl.” she rests your hands in her lap. “I can tell something is the matter.” she nods and searches your eyes.

“I’m scared.” you whisper. “If it’s so dangerous, why am I the only one leaving?” your voice cracks. “How will all of you stay safe? Protected? I pray to the Gods daily, yet I’m still weary at how this is to end.” you whisper.

“Do not worry yourself with such things.” she leans over and brushes your hair back. “Your brothers will see that we prevail. You’ll be home with us soon enough.” she offers you a reassuring smile.

“I’m nervous for the journey to Oldtown.” you whisper looking down at your intertwined hands.

“Your uncle will be by your side the whole time. He has personally picked your company himself. I promise that he will keep you safe. I know this.” she nods.

“That still doesn’t mean I know him. He is as a stranger to me as the men that he picked to accompany us.” you shake your head as the carriage stops.

“Once you see him all of the memories will come back.” she looks you over before exiting the carriage.

You follow her out into the main courtyard and hear your heart pounding in your ears as you see Oldtown knights and soldiers flooding the walkways. You grab onto your mothers arm and she holds you closer guiding you to the steps of the Keep. You keep your gaze down as you follow quickly behind her and sigh in relief when the familiar stone greets your eyes.

“Sister.” you press against your mother when she suddenly stops.

“Gwayne.” she turns around with a smile.

“And surely this isn’t my sweet little niece?” your breath catches as your eyes meet his.

“Hasn’t she grown?” your mother turns to you with a smile. “You remember Gwayne don’t you, sweet girl?” she adjusts your hair.

“I’m afraid my memory doesn’t serve me.” your cheeks burn as his full attention is on you.

“Then might I introduce myself.” he holds his hand out waiting for yours. You place your hand in his and he brings it to his mouth to place a soft kiss on you. “Sir Gwayne, Princess.” he bows his head to you. “I’m here to escort you to safety.” you blink up at him and nod.

Your mother ushers you into the castle while she continues to speak with her brother. You glance behind you and find him looking after you already. He offers you a small smile before you turn and walk up the steps. You seal yourself in your chambers trying to think of anything besides how you’ll be leaving your home at day break.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

A week on the road

You’ve slowly become more relaxed with Gwayne as your traveling companion. He’s been nothing short of doting and you can’t help but to think of another life where you got to spend your life growing up in Oldtown with his kindness, his gentleness. He wakes early with you and sets up your candles and makes a small area for you to have your time and silence as you pray to the Gods.

Gwayne stands at your back, ever the faithful watcher, protector. When you rise and come to his side he gathers your materials and packs them into the bag and clips it to his horse. By this time the men are awake and finishing breakfast before the lot of you start off on your journey once more. You stay glued to his side until your legs tire then he lifts you up the horse and guides you down the path.

“Might we stay at an Inn tonight?” you whisper and Gwaynes neck is craning up to you before you finish your sentence. “I would like a bath.” your cheeks redden at the thought of how many days it has been.

“Of course.” a small smile spreads across his features. “I would welcome a night on a bed. Not that our blankets aren’t comfortable.” he raises his brow at you and you let out a small laugh.

“Thank you.” you nibble your lip before turning back to the road.

Gwayne lets his mind travel to laying in a warm bed for once. He knows you don’t feel too many of the effects of sleeping on the ground because you’ve been draped across him every night. He stares at the top of the tent as you curl on top of him. The first night you both shared a tent it was because he wanted you close by, safe. Now he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to find sleep without you curled against him.

He trusts his men but not with you, Gods he’s not even sure he trusts himself with you. The mornings are the hardest for him. Your night dress is bunched up, legs tangled with his, and your warm breath fanning across his neck. He always brushes your hair back to wake you and he’s greeted by the smallest whimper as you cling onto him tighter.

“We’re off the trail.” he’s brought back to the present by your soft voice.

“I am so sorry Princess.” he shakes his head and watches his men turn back at him and snicker. “We’re stopping at the next Inn.” he calls to his men and they sigh in relief and continue walking once more.

“Can we still share a bed?” you hope you don’t sound too desperate.

“Of course.” he looks up at you. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.” you smile at his words and whisper a thanks before letting your mind drift to hot water and soap.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Your face falls when the Inn finally comes into view. If you hadn’t thought about a bath for the past couple of hours you would’ve requested to just keep going and stay in the tent once more. Gwayne lifts you off the horse and you frown as mud tracks on the bottom of your skirts. He winces at how upset you look and hopes a bath can distract you, but when he leads you into the Inn he watches your frown deepen.

“At least there will be a bed and a bath.” Gwayne glances at you and sees your scrunched face.

“Yeah.” you force a smile and he sighs leading you up to the Innkeeper.

The steps that lead up to the small room keep snagging on your dress and Gwayne cringes at every whine that comes from your mouth. When he pushes open the door he hears your gasp and ushers you inside quickly. He sets your bags down and turns to find you standing near the small tub, more like a large bucket before you turn and look up at him with round eyes.

“Just for tonight.” he cups your face and you nod once. “After we get to Oldtown you’ll never want for anything else.” he searches your eyes. “The finest gowns and the sweetest smelling soaps and oils. I’ll see to it.” he nods.

“Do you think they even have soap here?” he can’t help but crack a smile.

“I’m sure they do. It might not be the best but it’ll do the job.” he watches you nibble your lip. “What’s wrong?”

“Could you help me?” you whisper and he tilts his head confused.

“With what?” he searches your eyes.

“My bath.” your cheeks redden. “I’ll put one of my night dresses on but..” you shake your head. “I don’t know..” your voice cracks and you feel your eyes well with hot tears. “I don’t want to be traveling anymore.” he’s cupping your face the second your tears start to fall.

“We’re almost there. We can travel through the night, if it would please you.” he nods. “I can carry you so you can sleep in my arms. Anything, just say the words.” you fold against his chest and he holds you as you let out soft sobs.

“How much longer?” you mumbled against his chest.

“Just a week.” he smooths your hair back and holds you closer. “You’ve been so brave.” he whispers. “The best traveling companion I could’ve asked for.” you pull back and look up at him with puffy eyes. “Go put your night dress on and I’ll go fetch some water and soap.” you nod and he watches you walk over to your bag.

He clicks the door shut behind him and thuds down the stairs in search of what you require. He knows he shouldn’t be bathing you but who else would? Gods and now he’s thinking about you in a wet night dress. He stops on the stairs and closes his eyes trying to get the picture out of his mind. He starts down the stairs once more and thanks the Innkeeper when he hands him a bucket for water and a bar of soap.

Gwayne shoves the soap in his pocket and walks over to have his bucket filled. When the man grabs the bucket from him he grunts and fills it until water is sloshing out the sides. As Gwayne makes his way back to the stairs he jumps when some of the water seeps into his sleeve and groans at how cold it is. He’s half tempted to say they didn’t have any water for a bath but he doesn’t want to upset you further. He pushes the door open and finds you sitting on the bed with your hands in your lap.

“It seems as if this is all they could spare.” your eyes catch on the small bucket that has water dripping down the side of it.

“Okay.” you nod and rise from the bed. “I’m sorry I’m causing so much trouble.” you look at the uneven floors as you walk to the small basin.

“You’re not, sweet girl.” he sets the bucket on the ground and offers you his hand to help you step into the tub. He watches your skin pebble as you sink into the empty basin and curl your legs up to your chest. “I just don’t think they expected to be housing a Princess.”

“Did they give you soap?” you look up at him and he pulls the bar out of his pocket and watches your face fall. “I don’t want that in my hair. Can you get me something to tie it up?” you look from the offensive bar of soap to his crumbling face.

“Yes, of course. I’m so sorry.” Gods he should’ve never taken you here. This has to be worse than the tent. Surely you must loathe him by now. When he turns back to you he sees your cheeks are flushed and he steps behind you and starts to scoop up your hair. “I could braid it later if you’d like.” he whispers, trying to delicately pull it up to secure it off your neck.

“You can braid?” you look up at him with a hint of a smile.

“I was practically your mothers most trusted handmaiden growing up.” he cups your cheek and caresses your jaw with his thumb. “I can do your hair however you would like.” his heart swells seeing a smile back on your face.

“I would like that.” you nod and watch as he grabs the bucket of water.

“The water is cold.” he watches you close your eyes and nod. You hear his footsteps and fabric being ripped and you peek open your eyes and see that he tore apart one of his tunic. “They seemed to be out of cloths as well.” he offers you a half smile.

“You didn’t have to.” you look up at him with scrunched brows.

“Of course I did. It’s for you.” he cups your cheek before squatting down next to the basin.

For the next couple of minutes he dips the fabric in the water and rubs the soap into it before bringing it to your arm. He tries his best to ignore your small whines about the temperature and get it done as quickly as possible. You push his hand away, shivering and rising out of the basin. He watches you stand there hugging yourself and when he offers you his hand to get out his eyes widen at your now see through night dress.

“Let’s get you into something warm and dry.” he turns and grabs your bag. He pulls out a dry night dress and turns to you. “I’ll go stand by the door so you can change.” he lays the fabric on the chair and faces the door, shutting his eyes as he hears you shuffle around.

He knows he shouldn’t be feeling anything he’s been feeling for you the past week. You’re his niece. Gods you’re just so sweet and innocent. Somehow unsullied from growing up in the Godless city of Kings Landing. He never wants to let you go back there. He just wants to keep you for himself. To protect you and keep you safe. He wants to braid your hair and give you hot baths with towers of bubbles and petals. Yet all he’s done is have you sleep on the ground and take you to an Inn that is probably worse than any building in flea bottom.

“I’m still cold.” he turns and finds you in your dry night dress hugging yourself.

“Let me tuck you in and I’ll start a fire in the hearth.” he nods and leads you over to the bed.

“I want you to come to bed with me.” you pout. “You’re always so warm.” you curl against him and he swears his heart stops when your cold fingers press under his tunic into his skin.

“I will once I get the fire going.” he squeezes you against him once before tucking you into the bed.

You watch from under the covers as he moves about the room. The walls whistle from the breeze outside and you can feel the cold creeping back in. He quickly gets a fire going and gets rid of some of his layers before getting under the covers with you. He knows he shouldn’t and that his sister would probably have his head for this but he can’t help it. He’s just making sure you’re safe and protected. He smiles when he hears your even breathing in his neck as you cuddle on top of him.

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A week after arriving in Oldtown

Oldtown is grander than you ever could have expected. Gwayne has been showing you around from sunup to sun down and you can’t recall the last time you were so happy. The great sept here has never made you feel closer to the Gods and you can almost hear them whispering to you in the breeze to be happy. Gwayne never lets you out of his sight and has even allowed you to continue to share a bed with him.

Gwayne was sure the servants were going to cease to exist at the thought of you both sharing chambers but he had come up with something they couldn’t argue. You were still scared, unsure and he just wanted to make sure you’re safe. He told them if you weren’t by him you wouldn’t get any sleep and would be plagued with night terrors. When these excuses left his mouth he was wondering if he did it for you, himself, or the others within the walls of the castle. These thoughts leave his head when he sees you yawning and stretching in your silk pouting for him to come to bed.

When he first brought you to his chambers he leaned against the wall and watched you inspect every surface. Your eyes lingered on the massive tub and then you turned to his bed and fell back onto it in a fit of giggles. His heart warmed and he stepped over to you and asked if there was anything else you would like to be brought in. You shook your head and pulled him into the bed with you and curled against him and fell asleep. He watched you as you napped that first day and vowed to himself that he would never let you go, never leave Oldtown.

The moon has been high in the sky for hours and he’s been content to listen to you tell him about your life growing up in Kings Landing. Your complaints of not wanting to marry Aemond solidifies his decision to keep you here with him. You’re too kind to your two brothers, too kind for this world. He’s half tempted to steal you away now and take you far away and keep you all to himself.

“So what do you think?” you blink up at him and he shakes his head cursing himself for letting his mind drift.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl. What did you say?” you offer him a small pout.

“I asked for a kiss.” he chuckles and presses his lips to your forehead. “No,” you whine.

“Then where would you like a kiss? Hm?” he presses his lips to your cheek. “Here?” he kisses your other cheek. “Or here?” he kisses your nose quickly. “Where would you like a kiss, sweet girl?” he hovers over you on the bed and peppers kisses across your face as you giggle.

“On my lips.” you watch him lean back and tilt his head.

“I can’t.” he watches your smile fall.

“Why not?” you search his eyes. “I want my first kiss to be with someone gentle and kind like you.” you search his eyes. “Please?” you blink up at him and the reality of his situation comes crashing down on him.

He moves from above you and sits up on the bed next to you. He’s allowed himself to think too far into this fantasy world where he could have you. Take you away from here. Build a life, a family with you. He buries his head in his hands and focuses on his breathing until he feels you drape against his back. His shoulders relax when you bury your fingers in his hair and softly rake your nails against his head.

“Did I do something wrong?” you whisper and he shakes his head. “Do you think I’m a whore?” he hears your voice crack and he turns around in an instant.

“Gods no.” he shakes his head.

“Am I not good enough for you?” his heart cracks watching you frown.

“You are too good for me.” he cups your cheeks.

“It’s just one kiss.” you blink up at him with glossy eyes.

“Just one?” he feels his will breaking.

“Please,” you scoot closer to him.

“Close your eyes.” he whispers and you snap them shut. “Are you ready?” you can feel the heat coming off his body.

“Please,” you lean forward.

His hands engulf your cheeks as he softly presses his lips to yours. He starts to pull back before he can’t but you push forward and connect your lips again. He pulls back but you start to crawl into his lap, “Please, Gwayne please.” He pulls you back against his lips and wraps his hands around you back holding you closer. When he pushes his tongue into your mouth you let out a small whimper and melt into him. He doesn’t care, he can’t. Not when you’re begging like this and pleading for him. You both stay mended together until you have to pull back for more than just gasps of breath.

“We need to go to bed.” he looks at your swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

“No.” you shake your head.

“Yes.” he clears his throat. “Under the covers.” he nods and starts to pull them back as you pout.

“If I go under the covers can I have another kiss?” you tilt your head and he groans.

“And you must go to bed after.” you nod and scoot under the covers.

He’s barely under the covers when you’re on top of him and pressing your lips to his. Everytime he lifts you off you press against him harder, whining into his mouth. He can feel every curve of your body, the way your nipples are peaked and pressed against his chest. Your night dress slowly bunching up as you absentmindedly rock against him. Every small gasp and whine is the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. He pulls you off of him and presses you into the mattress next to him.

“Go to bed.” he settles into the bed beside you.

“Please.” you whisper. “Can I still cuddle with you?” you turn on your side.

Gwayne sighs and pulls you against him. You smile and tangle your limbs with his as you do every night now. You press your lips to his neck and he squeezes your sides with whispers of going to bed or he’ll move to the couch.

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A month after being in Oldtown

Gwayne waits patiently for you outside of the sept as he’s done every morning since bringing you here, yet he’s never been this tired. You spent hours after you were supposed to be asleep attached to his lips. Then this morning you stayed attached to his neck. He's sure a mark is blossoming under his collar at this very moment. Every morning he looks up at the sept as you scuttle up the stairs and then turns and stands guard as if he hasn’t broken every rule. Once the sun crests over the walls you’re skipping down the stairs and clinging onto his arm.

“I’m ready for our day in the forest.” you lean onto his arm. “Though I don’t know why we must go back out there.” you sigh.

“I wish for you to see how enjoyable it can be. How beautiful and bountiful the land is.” he leads you over to his horse and helps you up before taking a place behind you. “It’ll be just us. No company of men. No tents, we can sleep in our bed tonight.” he nods.

“If you insist.” you lean back into him, enjoying the way his arms hold you as he grips the reins.

“I do.” he leans closer and whispers in your ear.

As Gwayne leads you through the city he smiles watching you so at ease and happy. You wave at the people you both pass by and they wave back offering you a warm welcome. As the city gates come into view he feels you tense as you approach them. He wraps an arm around your waist and holds you closer and you seem to relax at the comfort.

“You promise we won’t sleep out here tonight.” you look up at him.

“I promise, sweet girl.” he nods at the guard as they open the gates for the both of you.

You turn back when the gates close behind you both and then back to the greenery all around you. You crane your neck and take in how tall the trees truly are. Gwayne watches as you let your eyes close and listen to the sounds of different life. The soft breeze blows through your hair as he continues to lead you down the path. When the horse comes to a stop you open your eyes and tilt your head at him.

“May I offer you a walk?” you look down at him on the ground and his outstretched hand.

“For a kiss.” he grins at your soft words.

“That could be arranged.” he grabs your waist and helps you down but you wrap yourself around him, wanting to be held by him. “One kiss. I still want to show you around.” you nod and press your lips to his. He lets you get caught up in the kiss for another minute before he’s pulling you off and setting you down. “You are so beautiful.” he brushes his fingers on your cheek.

He watches a blush rise to your cheeks before he grabs your hand and leads you deeper into the forest. You both come to a clearing and his heart starts to thunder. He looks down at you as you look up at the small opening in the canopy and back at the clearing bathed in sunlight. You walk through the long grass and wildflowers and turn with a pout when you see him still standing at the edge.

When he starts to walk towards you he watches you turn once more and smell the flowers. Your hands delicately trail through the tall grass catching on a few flowers but letting them be. You turn and find him standing in the tall grass. You slowly walk back over to him and he engulfs you in his embrace. You can hear his heartbeat through his tunic as you rest your head on his chest.

“I don’t wish to see you go back to Kings Landing.” he whispers.

“Did my mother call for me?” he can hear the small amount of fear.

“No, the war is still waging. You are safe here with me.” he holds you closer. “I just.. I want to keep you here with me forever.” you bury your head further into his chest. “Right here. I’d clear out the field and build you such a beautiful home.” he hums. “Far enough away where we won’t be disturbed but close enough where I can get you supplies, maesters if needed, the sept is there..” he trails off. “But I’d make you your own praying circle with candles and a bench. I’d build you your own sept if it would make you stay with me.” he nods.

“I would do all these things for you. I would do anything you ask. I’d be your protector, I’d hold your secrets,” you’re holding onto him so tightly now. “I’d be your husband if you’d wish it. Give you all of the kisses you want. We could build a family.” he lets his mind drift to the thought of you round with his child.

“Please,” he pulls you back and searches your eyes. “I want that so badly. Please.” your voice is so soft he can’t take it anymore.

He presses his lips to yours and you wrap yourself back around him. You smile against him when he slowly lowers you to the ground and the grass envelopes you both. His lips press against yours once more and you wrap your legs around his waist enjoying the way he’s pressing against you. You feel so safe, so loved. You relish in the silence only hearing yours and his panting. He’s trying to show restraint but he’s rarely the one on top because he knows it would just take one small moan and he would devour you.

He lifts up and looks at your lips before kissing down your neck. The high pitched whines leaving your mouth cause him to push his hips into yours and you hold him tighter with a small plea. He rolls his hips once more just wanting to hear your noises again before he stops but this time it’s a moan of his name. His hands find your thighs to untangle you but he’s met with your skin as your skirts have risen up your thighs. He digs into your soft flesh as he continues to kiss and suckle at your neck.

“Move your hips again.” you whine jerking your hips up. “Please, please Gwayne,” you claw into his back. “Oh, yes,” you squeak as he grinds into you. “More.” you feel your body heating.

“We mustn’t.” he pulls back from your neck and takes in your red cheeks. “We’re not even married.” he shakes his head and unwraps your legs from him.

“Then let’s marry.” you whine when he pulls your skirts back down your legs. “Then you can build our house while I carry our child.” you nod. “Please,” his heart is thundering so loudly at your words. “Tomorrow at daybreak.” you nod. “I know just the septon to do it.” he watches a smile bloom on your face.

“What about a gown?” he chuckles, watching you stand and pull him up.

“I have plenty of gowns to choose from.” you put your hands on your hips.

“Show me where you want the house to be.” he presses his lips to your forehead.

For the next couple of hours he lets you lead him around the clearing telling him where you would like everything set up. He takes dutiful mental notes and nods at every suggestion. You steal small kisses from him throughout the afternoon and once the sun starts to sink he begins to lead you back to the horse. He helps you up and smiles when you lean against him as he takes his place once more.

You smile and wave at the people again as you both pass through town. He takes you on a longer route back to the castle, letting you both off when something catches your eye. By the time you both make it back the sun is set and you’re now carrying a bag of new jewels and sweets. He asks a couple of servants to bring up some supper to his chambers for the both of you before he leads you up the stairs and seals you away with him.

Once the doors are shut you’re on him. Kissing at him, pulling at his clothes and whining when he grabs your wrists to stop your wandering hands. He chuckles into your mouth when you press yourself against him. He grabs your waist and pulls you back and places one last kiss on your lips to rid you of your pout. Both of your heads snap to the door when there’s a couple soft knocks.

Gwayne opens the door and accepts the trays from the servants and closes the door behind him. He turns and finds you clearing the table and setting up places for you both to sit. He spreads the food across the table and fills your plate and cup. You both glance at each other with smiles and thoughts of how this will never cease. Your mind drifts to asking the septon in the morning and being wed under the rising sun. You clean up the table and drift over to the wardrobe to pull out the gown you had in mind for the morning.

He watches you float around the room readying your clothes for tomorrow. His heart swells when you start to pick his clothes, having a vision of what he’ll be wearing as you seal yourselves together for eternity. He watches you start to pull on the laces of your dress and he takes quick steps over to you to replace your fingers with his. Once the dress is on the ground he helps you step out of it before he turns to the wardrobe and reaches for your night dress.

“Gods above.” he fists the fabric in his hands when he turns and finds you standing naked and your slip in the pile with your gown.

“Take me.” you whisper, stepping towards him. “I just want to be close to you.”

“We can wait another day.” his voice hoarse.

“Gwayne,” you whine and he drops the night dress to the floor. “Please,” you’re directly in front of him now blinking up at him.

He lifts you up and smashes his lips to yours. You sigh into his mouth and melt against him. One of his hands is holding onto your ass and you whine when he squeezes the tender flesh. His other hand is wrapped around your waist and splayed against your back holding you closer. He starts to walk you back over to his bed and reluctantly pulls back from your lips. He gently lays you back on the bed and starts to remove his clothing.

“Your trousers.” you whine when he starts to crawl over you with them still on.

“I’m not taking you tonight.” he shakes his head before pressing soft kisses against your neck.

“Why not.” you arch up into him as his hands roam down your sides. “Please,” he starts to kiss down your chest and presses his forehead just under your collarbone trying to reel himself in. “Oh,” you gasp as you jerk your hips up against his. “This feels different.” you grind against his trousers.

“That’s because you’re not wearing any small clothes.” he groans, grabbing your hips and stilling them.

“Take them off. I just want to feel you.” you start to move your legs up and try to push them down with your feet. “Gwayne,” he groans at the breathlessness of your voice.

“Okay, okay.” he shushes against your chest and untangles from you.

He stands at the edge of the bed and watches your head pop up as he starts to unlace his trousers and push them down. He sighs in relief when he’s free from the fabric. Your cheeks flush when you take in his length bouncing against his stomach. He smirks as you slowly lay back down, spreading your legs giving him the perfect view of your glistening slit. He starts to crawl over you once more leaning down to kiss up your torso, between your breasts, and finally stopping at your lips.

“Gwayne,” your voice trembling almost as much as your body at his soft touch.

“What would you like, sweet girl?” he leans down, letting his lips brush against yours.

“Just touch me, kiss me, anything.” you wrap your arms around the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours.

Gwayne is positive he must be dreaming or dead because there is no way this is his reality. The second your legs wrap around his waist he knows this is real at the feel of his tip sliding through your wetness. You whimper into his mouth and start rocking your hips and his head spins. He tries to press you back into the mattress but he just ends up sliding through your wetness even more.

“Take me.” you plead. “Please, just take me.” you hold him closer and rock your hips.

He presses his lips to yours and brings one of his hands between the both of you. The second he slides a finger up your slit you cry into his mouth. You’re practically dripping and when he brings his finger down to your entrance you arch up into him and he’s greeted by a pool of your arousal. He brings a second finger down to circle your entrance before sliding them both back up to your bud. The noise that leaves your mouth after his first swirl has his cock aching.

“Mm, more,” he circles his fingers faster and your legs squeeze around his waist. “I- I’m,” you feel such immense pleasure as you try to keep kissing him. You hold onto his neck and he watches your face scrunch as you pant into the small space between you both.

“How does it feel?” he leans down to press his lips to your neck.

“Good.” you gasp. “So good, ple- mm,” he chuckles into your neck and speeds up his fingers. “Gway-Ah,” you claw onto his back and pleasure slams through you.

He lifts up as he’s still swirling his fingers to watch your face. Your lips are parted and your eyes are squeezed shut as you continue to whimper. He slides his fingers down and circles one of his fingers around your core. He dips a finger into you and groans as he feels you fluttering around him. He brings his thumb up to your bud and watches your face as he slowly pumps his finger.

“Yes,” your chest heaves as he slowly works your body. “Please,” you roll your hips against his hand.

He watches you squirm beneath him and his resolve is starting to weaken. Your soft whimpers and pleas are going straight to his cock which has been aching for some time now but this is about you, it’ll always be about you. He starts to press a second finger into you and you cry out his name. You peel your eyes open and find him already looking at you.

“Kiss me.” you pant and his lips are on yours the next second. “I want you, not your fingers.” you whine into his mouth.

“Tomor-“ he grunts when your hands wrap around his cock.

“Please,” he can hear your pleasure in your voice as it soaks his hand. “Just the tip then,” you swipe against his leaking tip and he presses his forehead to yours.

“Alright,” he wraps his hand around yours and removes it. “Tell me if it’s too uncomfortable and we’ll stop.” he searches your lidded eyes.

“Please, please, I need it please,” you’re panting and squirming underneath him. He groans and takes his pleasure coated hands and strokes himself, mixing his pleasure with yours to slick his cock. “Mm,” you chew your lip as he starts to press the head in.

“Fuck,” he softly curses as your cunny sucks in his tip. “This is as much as-

“Mor- oh,” you gasp when you jerk your hips pushing him further in. “Please,” your chest is heaving as he stills all of his movements.

“We shouldn’t.” he pants but his cock is already inching further into your warm cunny.

“Move.” you whisper, holding onto him tightly. “Gwayne, please,” you move your hips and gasp at the continued stretch.

Your eyes lock with his as he continues to push into you. He watches for any sign of genuine discomfort or pain as he continues. He watches your lids get heavier and when his hips are flush with yours you let out a small whimper. You both stare at each other and breathe heavily until he leans down and presses his lips to yours. He starts to slowly pull out as he swallows down all of your whines.

“You’re doing so good for me, sweet girl.” he starts to kiss down your neck as he pushes back in. “Taking me so well.” he starts a steady rhythm that has a continuous string of whimpers falling from your mouth.

He presses his lips to yours once more as he continues to rock into you. Soon to be his wife. Soon to be carrying his child. His hips snap into yours with a little more force at that thought. Your walls hug him as he starts to move faster. The high pitched moans coming from your mouth only spur him on to move faster. He feels his pleasure approaching and from the way you’re squeezing him he knows you’re right there with him.

“I can’t wait to start a family with you.” he mumbles into your mouth. “Keep you all safe.” he rolls his hips. “Keep you swollen with our children for a couple years.” your nails dig into his back as you nod your head. “Yeah? Would you like that?”

“Please, yes, I’m,” you babble, nodding your head feeling your toes curl. “Mm I,”

“Shh shh, I've got you.” he kisses back down to your neck. “I’m gonna fill you up and give you the life you want.” he grunts. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me.” his words are filled with pleasure and outright devotion.

With one last cry of his name you fall apart around him which causes him to follow with his pleasure. He slowly pumps his seed into you watching your face scrunch with every slow thrust. He presses his lips to yours and gently pulls out. He collapses onto the bed next to you and you turn and curl into him immediately. His hand rubs your back soothingly as he whispers soft words of praise. He watches your eyes shut and pulls the blanket over the both of you.

“We’ll marry in the morning and I’ll start making plans to build you a home by the afternoon.” he presses his lips to your forehead before letting sleep take him over as well.

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6 months later

Gwayne stands behind you in the once overgrown clearing just beyond the city gates. You’re sitting at the stone bench he made for you with a couple candles lit in the small patch. Your eyes are shut and your usually clasped hands for prayer are instead tenderly holding onto your bump. You had insisted you could still kneel but once he saw you wince when he helped you up he wouldn’t allow it anymore. Now he brings out a feather pillow for you and helps you settle more comfortably.

You rise from the bench with ease but he’s still next to you with a hand on your lower back and the other protectively on your bump. He places a chaste kiss on your lips, then your nose, and lastly on your forehead. He begins to escort you back to the house and the candles and incense caress your nose as he leads you over to the couch before he goes to prepare your tea. He knows you’ll say he’s overbearing but it’s his job. To protect you. To see to every single one of your needs. To dote upon you. To love you.

“Gwayne,” he drops everything at the slight worry in your tone.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” he’s kneeling before you and looking over every inch of you.

“There’s some people coming.” you look out the window and he sees a couple guards and someone walking in the middle of them.

“Stay here.” he goes to the front door and clenches his jaw when he feels your hands wrap around his arm. “At least stay behind me.” he whispers and you nod.

“Her Grace, Alicent Hightower, requests entry.” one of the men grunt out.

You push Gwayne aside and pull open the door. Alicent takes you in and her eyes widen but you pull her into a fierce hug. Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you cling to your mother. Alicent holds you and is all too aware of your swollen stomach. Her eyes move from you to Gwayne who looks at the guards and back to her. He opens the door wider and shuffles the both of you inside and seals the door shut.

“I have prayed for you everyday.” you sniffle, wiping your eyes.

“And I for you.” she hums watching Gwayne help you sit back on the couch.

“Could I get you a drink? Something to eat? How was the journey?” she’s aware of his nervous ramble, something he’s been doing since they were kids.

“Tea.” she nods once and turns her attention back to you.

Alicent settles back into the chair and looks around the home. Your touch is all over the place with small accents of Gwayne. The house is warm and inviting and she softly shakes her head because this is the home she wanted to have when she was a girl. Her eyes move back to you and take in the soft glow coming off of you. Pregnancy looks well on you, you’re so at ease. Your white curls spilling over your shoulder as you wear a sage dress. How is it that she's looking at her little girl but before her sits the Mother?

“My sweet girl,” she can’t help the tremble in her voice. “Are you happy here?” she chokes back her tears.

“I don’t think I’ve been happier.” a smile spreads across your face and seems to illuminate the room.

“Tea for you.” Gwayne hands her a cup on a saucer with shaky hands. “And tea for you.” he takes a seat next to you and offers you the cup.

His eyes slide over to his sister and she takes a sip of her tea. The warmth settles into her chest, “Our childhood tea.”

“It’s my new favorite.” you hum. “The babe seems to dance everytime I drink it as well.” you place a hand in your bump.

“I..” Alicent shakes her head at a loss for what to say. You look between them and grab Gwayne's hand.

“Our love was a surprise to us.” you whisper. “It took us both by surprise. I..” you shake your head. “He is so very gentle and sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so safe and loved.” you don’t mean for your words to stab your mother but you see the impact of them. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize for choosing love and gentleness.” her glassy eyes snap up to yours. “I’m sorry.” she grabs her chest. “I just l..” she can’t blink away her tears as they fall. “I wanted a life like this long ago.” she whispers. “The Gods had chosen differently for me.” she offers you a weak smile.

“The Gods did not choose that for you. Our father did.” Gwayne shakes his head and reaches out for her hand.

“I want you to remain here with Gwayne.” she looks at you and swallows back her sorrow. “I’ll say you were lost to the war.” she shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling.

“What of my siblings?” your words hushed.

“Do not worry.” she quickly wipes away her tears.

“Mother,” you start to rise.

“No.” she shakes her head and stands. She walks over to you and cups your cheeks. “My sweet girl.” she presses her lips to your forehead and offers Gwayne the same.

“Stay here with us.” he grabs her hands. “I’ll build you your own home.” he searches her eyes. “Anything.” he starts to rise.

“My fate has been decided long ago.” her voice cracks. “I find solace knowing the Gods were gentler with the both of you.” she nods and turns to the door.

You look after her in confusion and send Gwayne after her. When he steps out of your home Alicent and her guards are already clearing the tree line. He turns back to you and seals the door and kneels before you. He wipes away the tears that keep flowing down your face. He engulfs you in a hug and you curl into his chest.

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5 years later

You bite your lip to hide your smile as your little girl tugs at your dress. You shush her and clasp her hands back together as you continue to pray with a soft smile. Your two sons are next to you softly giggling and you hear Gwayne silently scold them. You open your eyes, abandoning prayer until they’re down for their nap. Gwayne helps you up and places his hand on your once again growing bump.

“Soon you will need to be on your bench again.” he whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Soon you’ll have to build another bench.” you smile up at him. “I don’t think two will suffice anymore.” you chuckle as your three children circle around the both of you.

“Then expand our house, get more livestock, plant some more vegetables..” he trails off, pinching your children’s cheeks causing them to squeal and run around in the wildflowers.

“Father,” your little girl tugs on his tunic.

“Yes, my sweet little princess?” he scoops her up.

“Could you braid my hair like mothers?” she smiles shyly.

“Of course I can, Ali.” she wraps her arms around his neck before wiggling out and running off with her brothers.

Gwayne helps you take a seat and takes his place next to you as you both watch your children frolic around the tall grass and flowers. The sun shines on your boy's silver hair while it radiates warmth in your daughter's red locks. You lean against Gwaynes side and shut your eyes listening to the laughter and the breeze.

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masterlist ⏾ wips ⏾ taglist

bruh when i was writing the Inn scene i had to show so much mf restraint bc im a hoe for the ‘only one room and one bed’ trope but it wasn’t their time yet 🥲

and we already got another gwayne fic in the works let’s gooooo

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers @eternalwinters @rere10 @sxlsvv @sarahrosw36q @tricksterreaper @somethingsaladsomething @naty-sunshine @supernaturalwitch89 @the-wife-of-fictional-men

#im literally gagged that this is over 8k words like hello #n e ways now introducing gwayne from me #nah bc i was so soft for this fic when writing it #gwayne hightower #ser gwayne #gwayne x reader #hotd gwayne #gwayne smut #gwayne x reader smut

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writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 9 hours ago

Text

The start of forever (USWNT x ADHD reader)

Sorry it's been a long time since my last post! Life got busy but I'm back (hopefully). This is the last part in the ADHD reader series, I might do some short fics in the future if people might be interested.

Enjoy!

Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Words: 4k

Warnings: Suggestive

Just over a week had passed since the best day of my life. Ally and I hadn't gone on our honeymoon yet because of upcoming games, but between trainings, we managed a few days in a luxury hotel. We had spent a few hours at the spa, though we were mostly in our room either cuddled up watching movies, eating, or doing inappropriate things. It wasn't much, but it was enough to recuperate before the craziness of the next few weeks until it was time for our real honeymoon.

Unfortunately, it was time to leave our little bubble and return to training.

"How's married life Mrs Y/l/n?" Ali asked as I sat down next to her, a teasing smile on her face.

A small smile appeared at the mention of being married. It was still something I couldn't believe was real. "Honestly, it pretty much feels the same. I would say we feel more connected and never want to be apart, but that was the same pre-marriage. I do get a little burst of happiness or maybe excitement whenever I remember we're married. And I'm very excited about our honeymoon. It's been a while since we've had a good chunk of just us time. No work or commitments "

"You guys were always obsessed with each other before so I'm not that surprised. That feeling will stick around for a while I think. It did for me anyway. Have you got the photos yet? You both looked incredible so the photos will be amazing."

"Not yet, I think they will take another week or so. I'm not sure. Ally has been the one in contact with them. I don't know if you've noticed, but she's the organised one in this marriage."

"No really? Hadn't noticed that. You know, I'm so proud of you Y/n, you've come so far not just in soccer but in life as well. I mean look at you, you're married, with a great family around you."

My arms wrapped around Ali as I fought to keep my emotions in check. When I first met her and joined the national team, I never imagined I'd become so close to her—or anyone. At the time, I was focused on fitting in, doing my best, and earning my spot. Despite the age gap between us, Ali had become one of my best friends, a big sister of sorts. And even though I never saw it coming, I couldn't imagine my life without her in it now. "I love you, Ali."

"I love you too Kiddo."

"This is sweet and all, but if you're done being sappy we need to go out now," Emily spoke up interrupting the moment between us.

---

The team had decided to escape the hotel which meant everyone had decided to hang out at my house instead. I didn't get the point of going from one room to another in a different place, but they seemed happy so I wasn't actually complaining. Besides, my couch was comfier.

"Where's your wife? We miss her." That explains why they wanted to be at my house. They always wanted to hang out with Ally. At this point, I was sure they liked her better than me. I couldn't blame them, she was my favourite person too.

An involuntary smile made its way onto my face, a little over a month later and I still wasn't over the fact that Ally was my wife, "Oh I see how it is, you didn't want to hang out with me, you wanted Ally. Well you're out of luck. She had to go into the office today, she should be home soon I think."

"You guys go on your honeymoon soon right?"

"Yeah in like 3 weeks. Man, I can't wait, a week and a half alone with my wife in a secluded cabin surrounded by mountains. Sounds like heaven if you ask me."

"I don't even want to know where your mind is going."

I smirked, throwing a controller at Emily, "You really don't."

We were halfway through a FIFA match when the door opened. I quickly threw the controller to someone before rushing to the door. "Hi, my love."

Ally smiled tiredly, not fighting as I took her bag. "Hi, baby. Let me go grab the groceries real quick."

"No, I'll get them, you just go sit down."

Ally sighed, kissing my cheek, and hesitantly made her way into the living room. Once everything was inside and put away, I went to find Ally squished on the couch. When Ally saw me, she pulled herself up much to the dismay of the girls she was talking to, and pulled me into a tight hug. "I said hello to you guys already, it's my wife's turn now."

My arms tightened slightly at the words before I spoke quietly, "You okay love?"

"I am now. Just a long day."

Emily fake gagged, making us pull away with an eye roll, "You two are still disgustingly cute. How long do we think that lasts?"

"Knowing these two, probably forever."

---

"Ally baby, don't fall asleep. We're almost there."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to flying internationally."

We had landed a couple of hours ago and done all the needed errands in town before driving out to the cabin. It was Ally's idea because I had completely forgotten there was anything we would need for the week. "Probably not. I still haven't. We've got a week and a half of no work or training. So once we get to the cabin we can just chill for the rest of the day and hit the slopes tomorrow."

Ally smiled, kissing my hand before sitting herself up properly in the seat. "That sounds perfect love. Maybe a bath too. Because I think we should take as much advantage of the bath as we can while we're here."

"We really have to get you a bath. I'll make it happen for you one day."

"That would be the dream. We will make it happen."

Not even 10 minutes later, we arrived at the cabin and had the bags out waiting to be taken inside. Much to Ally's confusion, I stopped her before she could get inside and scooped her up bridal style. Ally squealed, arms wrapping around my shoulders, "What are you doing!?"

"Carrying my wife over the threshold. We were too drunk to do it on our wedding night then maybe I forgot so here we are."

"Charming as ever my love."

"You know it." I placed Ally down in the living room, leaving a lingering kiss before taking our bags to the bedroom.

We weren't sure if we'd even be able to go on our honeymoon at first due to game schedules. So we had held off on booking anything until it was finally confirmed I'd have the time off. There weren't many options at the time, but thankfully we didn't care where we stayed as long as there was a bath. That was Ally's only specification. Luckily, we managed to find a pretty nice place anyway. The cabin was a cozy, one-bedroom place with a simple, open-plan design. There was a comfortable-looking L-shaped couch, a few bean bags, and a fireplace. A window seat was placed in the perfect spot to see the surrounding mountains. It wasn't much, but it was perfect for us.

After we had put everything away, Ally went to sit down on the couch, but I stopped her before she could and pulled her into my lap instead. "You're trying to look romantic, but I know you are just trying to keep me from falling asleep."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because I know you. Also, I would have 100% fallen asleep. I'm sorry, I can't help it."

"There's no need to apologise love. I just know if you sleep now, you will struggle tonight. How about we cuddle for 10 minutes then go for a walk, have dinner, bath then do whatever we feel like? If you can deal with me after the flight that is."

Ally giggled, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and kissing me softly, "As insufferable as you can be stuck in a confined space for hours on end, I will always want to be around you. Why are we going for a walk?"

"We gotta explore the area at least a little bit before it gets dark. If uh that's okay of course."

"Of course it is. This is our honeymoon not just mine. Cuddle then walk sounds perfect."

---

Ally looked at me like I was crazy as I lay down in the snow, moving my arms up and down. "Babe! What the hell are you doing?"

"Snow angels. You can't be in the snow and not do snow angels. Come on, join me."

"No, it's cold and wet and I love you, but you're crazy."

I sat up, holding up my hand, "Okay fine, help me up."

Ally took my hand, and instead of letting her pull me up, I pulled her down into the snow. She let out a squeal and hit my shoulder lightly. "What the hell Y/n! You're such a little shit."

I straddled Ally's waist, peppering kisses across her face, "I'm not sorry either."

Her hands slipped under my shirt, making me shiver from the cold as they trailed up my side. "We could be doing this in a nice bed, or couch or even standing up, but you choose the freezing snow."

"I'll make you a deal. You do one snow angel with me and then we can go back to the cabin to make use of the nice bed or couch or even standing up, whatever you want."

Ally smirked, "Whatever I want huh?"

"Whatever you want."

"Deal. Bath and massage it is."

"Bu-"

Ally rolled off me, winking as she went, "Whatever I want remember."

Once we had finished the snow angels, I quickly got up, stopping Ally before she could. I snapped a few photos as she lay in the snow. Ally started doing random poses as I took a bunch of photos, some of which would have to be locked away as they boarded on R18.

She looked at me confused as I pulled her up out of the snow, "Why are you taking so many photos? You don't normally do that."

"Memories. This is one of those times that I want to remember forever." In reality, I was planning to get a photo book made of our honeymoon, similar to the one Ally made me for our anniversary. It wasn't something she would expect me to do. Photo books and albums had always been more Ally's thing.

---

Ally and I had been snowboarding together a few times since we started dating. Besides that, she was pretty new to it while I went pretty often with one of my friends growing up. It wasn't something I enjoyed very much at first. It was just a way to get away from my parents. Now I loved it and while Ally enjoyed it, I knew she still got pretty nervous before the first few runs. Despite the nerves, she was always willing to do whatever runs I wanted to because she knew I loved it. Just another reason she was my person.

"Just follow my lead," I encouraged, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze effectively stopping her fidgeting. As we boarded the ski lift, I couldn't help but steal glances at her. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and despite the nerves, there was a small smile present. She was gorgeous, I would never understand what I did to deserve a women like her.

"Always do. What's going on in that head of yours? You've got that far-away look."

"Just how beautiful you are and how lucky I am to be married to you."

"I love you." Ally was looking at me with so much love, that I couldn't help snapping a quick photo before she noticed. To this day I still got 'butterflies' whenever she looked at me like that. At this point I didn't think that feeling would ever fade or at least I hoped it wouldn't. With a simple look, she made me feel incredibly loved. I never wanted that to go away.

I always had Ally go in front of me, just for instances like these. Watching Ally go down just in front of me had my stomach dropping as I skidded to a stop next to her. Ally groaned, rolling over and giving me a thumbs up. I helped Ally scoot over to the side, making sure she was okay as we went. After making sure Ally was okay, I laughed loudly, snapping yet another photo of her covered in snow. "You're supposed to glide over the snow not eat it."

"Shut up miss professional athlete."

Ally took the hand I held out to help her up, but instead of standing up, she pulled me down into the snow next to her much like I had a few days ago. "You're not supposed to eat the snow you know?"

"Meanie."

Ally rolled over, kissing my cheek before a smirk appeared, "Paybacks a bitch baby. We should probably keep going."

"One more run then lunch?"

"Race ya." Ally giggled before taking off down the mountain.

---

"Hey Al, this weather forecast isn't looking very good and they've closed the field. It looks pretty crappy out there. We should probably just hang here today and see what happens."

"Yeah, I'm not going to complain about a day alone, cuddled up with my wife," Ally smiled, pulling me into her lap, leaving a few light kisses against my neck.

"You said it."

"Well you are my wife, aren't you? Or did I marry someone else without knowing?"

I wasn't a very jealous person, but the thought of Ally marrying someone else made my skin crawl. I scowled, kissing her deeply, the way I knew left her utterly breathless before whispering, "Don't even say that." Ally moaned quietly, trying to reconnect our lips, but I pushed her away gently. "Nope. Just for that comment, you have to wait. Let me go get some more wood just in case then we can play games or something."

"Jealousy suits you," Ally winked, "Or something sounds perfect."

"Horndog."

She shrugged, smacking my butt as I walked away, "What do you expect when you're walking around shirtless? Please put a jacket on before going outside though."

A few hours later, we lay tangled in the sheets watching TikTok on Ally's phone. My original plan was to take Ally out for dinner since the weather was supposed to get better but turns out all the roads were closed. I laughed a little as memories flooded in of this happening on our first snowboarding trip. At least this time we still had power for now. Ally looked at me confused, making me laugh even harder.

Once I managed to stop laughing, I explained why to a very confused Ally, "We have the worst luck when it comes to romantic snowboarding trips. All the roads are closed and we're stuck here for who knows how long. I've never been more grateful that you made us do a proper shop."

This time it was Ally's turn to laugh, making me laugh all over again, "Maybe this is a sign snowboarding for occasions isn't for us. Like seriously, the times we just went for a weekend everything was fine, but our first ever trip and our honeymoon, things go wrong."

"Or it's a sign that we do it more often and get trapped together."

"We can do that at home. I was thinking that our next holiday should be somewhere tropical. I love our snowboarding trips, but it's my turn to drag you somewhere hot."

"I think I can live with seeing you in a bikini."

Ally rolled her eyes at me, pushing me away gently and rolling out of bed. "Of course you can. I'm going to make dinner."

After about half an hour of scrolling through my phone, I dragged myself out of bed. Ally was still in the kitchen so I went to bring in more wood to last the night. Ally was pretty much always the one who cooked, she loved it and I hated it. In return I always cleaned up, did the chores she didn't like, and baked her whatever she wanted.

I wrapped my arms around Ally from behind, swaying gently as she stirred the sauce. Ally let out a soft giggle, turning down the heat before turning around, her arms resting on my shoulders. "You okay, love?"

"I got the wood in, then got bored," I replied, slowly moving us around.

She laughed, pressing her forehead to mine. "Man, I love you, Y/n."

"I'd hope so, seeing as you married me."

She flicked the back of my head lightly. "Oi, say it back."

"Say what?"

"Don't be mean, or you're sleeping on the couch."

"You couldn't handle that, and we both know it," I teased, pulling her closer. "But I love you, so, so, so, so much."

"My dork," Ally grinned. "We should roast marshmallows tonight."

I twirled her around before pulling her back into me, planting soft kisses along her jaw. "Marshmallows it is."

"Yessss I love roasting marshmallows."

"I know you do. How about this: you have a bath, I make brownies, then we roast marshmallows?"

Ally's face fell a little. "You're not having one with me?"

"Not tonight," I said, smiling apologetically. "I want to, but I've got a surprise for you, and I need time to set it up. You have your bath, and I'll have a surprise waiting."

She let out a dramatic sigh before she smiled again. "I can accept that this time, only because I love surprises. Now, I love you, but if you don't let me go, we're having burnt sauce for dinner."

After dinner, Ally went to have a bath while I quickly made some brownies and cleaned up. Then moved on to the idea that I wanted to surprise her with.

By the time Ally emerged from the bathroom, the living room was dark, the fire and a few scattered candles casting a soft glow around the room. There was a platter of marshmallows, chocolate, strawberries, and brownies laid out on the coffee table in front of the fire. Ally looked around, smile widening when she saw the blanket fort in front of the fire. "What's all this?"

"Just a little something I thought you would like."

"You chose this over a bath with your wife? I would be offended if I didn't love it."

"Yeahhh, I saw it on TikTok earlier and got fixated on it."

"That's my girl." Ally left a lingering kiss against my cheek before carefully making her way into the fort and settling among the blankets. Ally's eyes sparkled with happiness as she looked around the fort "Gotta say it's pretty impressive, miss fort builder."

"It's Mrs fort builder to you," I said, feigning a scowl that just made Ally grin wider. "Thank you, I've got a lot of fort-building experience. It's a crucial skill in life."

She snorted, unable to hide her grin as she pulled me down with her. "Clearly. And what exactly are we doing in this fort?"

I settled in beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist as I peppered her face with kisses. "Roasting marshmallows, of course, eating brownies, and I don't know... I'm sure there's some way we could entertain each other."

Ally arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Entertain each other, huh? And how do you propose we do that? Because, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I don't think I can go another round after earlier."

I chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before pressing my lips to hers in a deep, lingering kiss. When we finally pulled apart, I grinned. "I'm sure we'll figure something out. We have all those games on the shelf. Maybe a board game night? We haven't had one of those in ages."

Ally pretended to think about it, but I knew she loved game nights just as much as I did. In our early days, that's what a lot of our date nights consisted of. Over time they dwindled as commitments got in the way, but when they did happen, it was special in a way.

"First, though," I added, nudging her nose with mine, "Marshmallows. Because I don't want to see your pout if we don't do it."

So that's exactly what we did. We roasted marshmallows over the fire, though Ally had a habit of catching hers on fire, laughing as she waved them around trying and failing to save them. Ally's smile and laughter were so full of happiness, that I couldn't help but join in.

We spent hours playing random games, arguing over rules and jokingly accusing each other of cheating. I took so many photos, honestly probably too many. There were shots of Ally, of the blanket fort, of the two of us together. I had no idea how I was supposed to pick which ones to put in the photo book, but I would never complain about having more photos of Ally.

The night was peaceful, safe, and fun. There was no stress, no worries, no commitments, it was just me and my person. Honestly, if we never left this cabin, I think I'd be perfectly happy with that.

---

I turned to Ally, propping myself up on my elbow to look at her. She was tracing lazy patterns on the back of my hand. Games and food were long forgotten and the fire almost out, but I couldn't bring myself to get up to put more wood on. Maybe the last few days hadn't gone to plan with us being stuck inside, but as long as I was with Ally, it didn't matter.

"You know," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper, not wanting to disturb the peace. "I really like being stuck with you."

She smiled, lacing our fingers together, "Good because you married me. I also really like being stuck with you, too. Even though I know you hate being stuck inside for so long."

I laughed quietly, shaking my head. "Normally yes, but I'm actually not struggling that much this time. Maybe cause it's our honeymoon or because I've never been more in love with you than I am right now. Right here with you, I'm content, I'm happy and I can't wait for our life together. Something tells me it's going to be incredible."

Ally ran her fingers across my jaw, eyes shining with unshed tears. Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, "I-I love you Y/n. It's silly, but I love it when you get like this. You always make me feel so loved, but when you look at me like that and say the sappy things you just did, it's like a whole other level. You make me feel so incredibly important."

"Ally, you are the most important person in my life. My team or family I would say, are incredibly important to me, but that's nothing compared to you. I meant everything I said in my vows. You are my everything, my world."

She blinked a few times, her hand coming to wipe a tear away, but I beat her to it, leaving a soft kiss in its wake. "You're determined to make me cry aren't you?"

"Maybe. I'm determined to make sure you know how much I love you every single day for the rest of our lives."

"I already do. You make me feel like the luckiest person in the world. I love you so damn much."

"I love you, Ally."

We stayed like that for a while, nothing else being said as we just enjoyed being cuddled up against each other. Being with Ally was easy. There was no pressure, no expectations. Just us, wrapped up in blankets, in each other. And honestly, it was perfect. Any lingering doubt I had that I wasn't enough for her, about not being the wife she deserved, faded away. And for the first time in my life, I truly felt like I had everything I needed, right here, right now. With Ally by my side, I knew that no matter what happened in life, I would be okay.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #woso imagines

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frozcnlight · 2 days ago

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The young woman was about to answer to Garth, but her sister's question took more priority to her, as it caused her to think how to explain everything that had happened. Stubbornly, her eyes were fixated on the wooden surface of the table, then went to the flowers that stood neatly in a vase. She had found quite the interest in decorating the litle amount of rooms she called her home ever since and the currency here wasn't too difficult to understand actually - at least from what she had noticed so far. Thinking of this, she really should look into getting a job soon, huh? But how did one do that in a time where E-Mails and computers didn't even exist as a word yet? If there wouldn't be people around, Miran was sure she'd sink her head to the table in frustration. But not wanting to worry her sister or getting judged by the young man who was a complete stranger, she held her head high as if this thought hadn't crossed her mind. She was good in holding some things in - it was a necessary skill to survive her work (and the family).

"I guess I was just very lucky.", nevertheless she laughed nervously and gave away that she definitely hid the story behind her survival or where she had been. She wouldn't talk about it any time soon - she feared that she might traumatize her sister, "I've been in this cottage for a long time now and mainly focused on understanding this world - and trying to cook. Well, that had definitely gone wrong more often than not.".

Just thinking about the amount of burnt food she had to eat in the last few days made her want to really cry. How had nobody ever warned her of the difficulties?! It wasn't even like she couldn't look up recipes or such - there was nothing where she could look anything up neither! It was mostly just a moment of 'throw in whatever seems to fit together and see what comes out.'. Funnily most of those things didn't fit together in taste for some reason - or she just did it wrong.

Clearing her throat, Miran tried to change the topic by focusing back on Garth, "It's been some time now... I must be honest, I am somewhat disoriented about how long we have been seperated, because in my first few days I too tried to simply survive.". She tried to laugh, "But that's just natural, isn't it? Losing your home all of the sudden is a really scary experience after all and you don't know for a moment what to do, where to go and who to trust. You're just on your own...".

"Such troubles sound rather serious to me". He took a small sip from his tea, taking note of the quality, when he also took in the fact that this woman wasn't from around here, it impressed him all that more. It seemed as though he'd learned at least a little about her so far - she knew her teas, though judging by the weird face that Strelitzia was pulling, the same may not be said for fruit tea. "Allow me", he said, reaching across the table to take Strelitzia's cup, resting his hand over the top for a few seconds, before handing it back over, "Here, how does it taste now?". Strelitzia gazed from her cup to Miran, to Garth, hesitating for a few seconds before picking the cup back up and taking a cautious sip, gasping at the sweet taste, "Oh! That's yummy! How did you do that!?" "Let's just say I've had a few years to learn", he smiled, glad that the little girl was looking a little more relaxed finally. He was aware that his questioning may have been worrying her, as she'd been the one to let so much slip in the first place, and as much as he wished to continue playing with Miran, he didn't wish to upset either of them either.

"I understand. Homesickness can be rather severe even for the strongest of us", he spoke as though he understood such things, but the closest thing to a 'home' he had was his library, "I'm sorry if I drew up any such feelings. I've travelled beyond this nation and have never heard of such a place though...I couldn't quite help but be curious".

But, if he wished to learn more then it would be wish to perhaps drop the subject for now, another small sip of his tea taken as he relaxed against the back of the chair. How long had the elder sister been here? Outsiders where usually treated with nothing but suspicion, but she seemed to have settled in rather well, from the little that he could tell anyway.

Strelitzia sipped quietly on her drink, smiling lightly as she felt Miran's fingers run through her hair. She hadn't realised just how much she'd missed such a kind gesture, her eyes lifting to meet Miran's, trying to understand the reason as to why she was lying to the kind man that had saved her. Was it wrong to tell the truth of where they had come from? Had she been wrong to tell Garth as much as she had? She'd simply been so relieved at being rescued, at finding someone friendly, that she'd rambled away to him for almost two days now.

"Well, I don't know for how long you two were apart from, but I was taking care of her for the last two days roughly. She was rather tired from her adventures in the woods. It was lucky I was nearby...I would hate to imagine what would have happened, especially if her Divine Protection wasn't reacting as it should". Garth gave the younger sister a soft smile, hoping to help calm her further. It wasn't too hard to pick up on how nervous she was.

Still, it was difficult to accept that this was where the conversation about another world had ended, his thirst for new knowledge rather difficult to hold back, a curse and a blessing, but to press too hard was of course only asking for either walls to be placed in his way or suspicion on his shoulders. He had to wonder which may be the most inconvenient.

"Miran?", Strelitzia spoke up as the silence continued to settle around them, "...where have you been? How...how did you survive?"

#{ Speck of Light ( IC )}#{ Once upon a whole other world ( Re:Zero )}#diverseheartsocs

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altruistic-meme · 1 month ago

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i hate being an adult but i hated being a teenager. let me be like 5 years old again.

#aka i have to call the car place to see what fixing my car will look like and as always i ✨️dont want to✨️#BUT im trying to take good care of this car and it should HOPEFULLY not be expensive or weird to fix #since its just like. the plastic on the bottom of my car.#but its only tied up with some shitty tape and i dont want that breaking and my car somehow getting further fucked up #im also annoyed as shit about it bc my sister did it and i just.#she said it broke when she went over traintracks and that she 'didnt notice' until i started driving the car #fun part is i KNOW the nearest traintracks she couldve gone over are more than 10min from my place #your telling me yoi didnt notice. for more than 10 minutes. and going over the speedbumps at my apartment??#nah #you noticed. you just didnt think it was a big deal so you didnt dtop to look.#just. GRHEHGG #i really need to call my mom to complain to her about the situation bc im at the end of my rope for real right now #im GOING to start biting of heads soon #shh ac

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catgirlkirigiri · 1 year ago

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I told you it wouldn’t just be satosugu next time I posted jjk furries. This time there are even more gay people :)

#alternate caption: it may be a fix-it au but I can’t painlessly un-doom the doomed yaoi. they got back together so it’s fine though :)#zoracontent #zora arts #jjk furries #also yaay now I get to reveal more guys species :D #Yuji is a dog! I know tiger is most people’s obvious pick but he is SO puppy dog. also sukunas a tiger and I wanted them to be different #no specific specie for him btw I think he’s a mutt. he’s one of the few I have ref sheets made for. you might see some of those soon #Megumi is a wolfdog!!! yes I know I know he is very cat. but consider: I can make him look like his dogs. and also it makes him look like #gojos son. it’s great. his sister is also a wolfdog but I think she’s gonna look more dog than wolf. Megumi is definitely more leaning wolf #tojis a wolf they get it from their old man 👍#nobara is a fox :) no real explanation here she just feels like a fox #I may have also just. wanted someone to be a fox. hehe. same with wanting a bunny which leads us into #mimiko and nanako are bunnies! I genuinely have no basis for this I just felt like it. it’s my self indulgent furry fix-it au ok #also i hope yall appreciate me editing in the text here because it was completely illegible in my handwriting <3 #once again not tagging. if you get here from me saying names while talking in the tags hiiii please enjoy my furries

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renee-mariposa · 8 days ago

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This weekend had some high highs and mild lows, and it’s ending on a good note

Look! At this crust! That I made myself!!! It looks (and behaved!) like a pilsbury ready-to-bake crust 🤩 third time truly is the charm lol

And the quiche looks incredible (and tastes fantastic, I had a taste for a late-night snack)

I made some broccoli cheddar soup tonight too and it turned out incredible, and I figured out how to use the cast iron skillet to make delightful pork chops…!

#personal #cooking #quiche is one hell of an indulgence now so I’m glad it turned out so well #the only bad thing about the crust is I forgot the salt 😂#I also pulled my sourdough starter out of the fridge and am firing up the bread ovens #I get to see my sister soon and I want to have some of my sourdough for her #it feels so good to finally be able to cook some dishes decently well

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deus-ex-mona · 3 months ago

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monthly reminder that it’s ✨ok✨ to not have friends~~~~

#that girl from the first verse though lmaooooooooooooooooo #…yeah. chizuchan’s valid for not liking her tbh.#and that blond guy and his green bowlcut pal for that matter #though. looking at their designs. i gotta wonder which came first: the character designs (in general) or the mvs or the manga #(bc the flashback sequence basically fusion danced this mv and kawaiinoni’s mv into one horrific mess)#(man. chizuchan’s manga really does have the subtlety of an oncoming truck.)#though. that begs the question of w h o came up with chizupapa’s character design bc he sure is just. a guy.#ueueueueeeeeeee i hope chizuparents get featured in an mv soon they’re so sweet and supportive…#in a series where you have ikemen dads like yusuke and pretty (only with makeup on) dads like the longleg… chizupapa is. surprisingly normal #idk i feel like we’ve had lots of time to process chizumama bc we all expected her to look like an older chizuchan #(just like how all mothers in this series seem to resemble their kids tbh. ayako and the narumi sisters. tae and yujiro.)#(akarin and mochizuki daughter. natsuki and the older setoguchi son. and yuko and aizo (to a degree) ig)#(only exception is miou but. idk. maybe serizawa son is reincarnated chiaki or sth idk)#but i digress. anyways i have a need to see chizuparents in full colour that’s all #m. maybe if we get an anime adaptation of this… but… then again… the stuff in the recent chapters are kinda..#so. my latest pitch is this: there should be a song series ([season] session-style) sung by gen 3’s parents.#no one would want it. yet it’d be really funny yk. can we have longleg rap pls #i for one think longleg and chizupapa could spit some real bars together #but uhhhhhhh where was i… um idk. anyway stream chizuchan’s songs and see y’all in jan when vol 2 drops~~~~~~#(provided that they decide to digitally release vol 2 at the same time as the physical release on jan 21 (iirc) anyway. so um. yeah.)#(terrified for ch8 btw i think the preview’s gonna drop in like 2 weeks… man.)#(i hope the inevitable ani.mate bonus manga for vol 2 is wholesome or ridiculous though… just as a palate cleanser for vol 2’s actual chaps)#(can jan 2k25 pls come faster more people n e e d to witness the insanity in these recent chapters)#(cons and cons of reading untled manga from a small fandom is that there’s no one to scream your thoughts at so you’re stuck in d’tags void)#chizuutan chizpost

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littletrumpetcat · 1 month ago

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personal

#i accidentally fell asleep at like 9 pm and woke up at 2 am #my oldest dog came up to me and started whining so i let him outside (3 am at this point)#and the other dogs do their business and go back inside but oldest will spend like 20 min sniffing around lol #so he starts barking and as soon as i hear him bark im calling his name and he quickly hears my name and comes inside #and my father has the audacity to say to me 'dont let him out at 3 am' ???#like do u want me to make him hold it in? do u want me to make him piss on the floor u dumb fuck?#dude is like the lightest sleeper in the world #and he makes it everyone else's problem. like I've dealt with this my whole life #also i went to brush my teeth before bed and i knew he'd want to use the bathroom since he was up #like during the night the bathroom is basically just his and he's definitely gotten mad at me for using it and 'waking him up' before #so he sees me in the bathroom and he's like of course ur in the bathroom! first u wake me up and then u go into the bathroom!#like i cant do anything in this house ig #like he has these moments where he's so kind #he fills up my gas tank for me. last sunday i got really sick at my sister's bridal shower like i threw up in the bathroom and my dad #took me home and i kept having to throw up. nightmare scenario but he was like ur okay let me know if u need me to pull over #and the few times that we stopped he was like take ur time #and when we finally got home he was like u did good #get some rest #didnt vomit in his truck 😎 but he treats that truck like its the only kid he's ever loved so i was surprised that he even #was ok with taking me home #also i got sick because i was very dumb and took an advil with a mimosa #my head was killing me

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babyboy555777 · 3 months ago

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Overheard

Summary: Rafe over hears you and Sarah talking about your night at the beach with a hookup.

CW: possessive Rafe, rough sex, name calling, unprotected sex (wrap before tap), bit of choking and hair pulling, forced to stay quiet, mirror sex. (Should be it)

(Did not proofread bc this took me so long already.)

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You and Sarah had been friends for years. You moved to Outer Banks as a child and took quite a liking to Sarah and her family. You were always known to drop in whenever you felt needed. You shared many nights at their house and basically became a part of the family.

On this specific day it was like any other. You hopped in your jeep and quickly sped off to Tannyhill. Soon arriving in the circle driveway of the mansion you quickly got out and headed to the door knocking loud, so you were heard.

The door was swung open by none other than the snarky stuck-up brother of your best friend, Rafe Cameron. “You don’t have to knock.” He sighed “you basically live here anyway.” He scolded you. You pushed past him and into the entrance way of the house.

“Where’s Sarah?” Rafe shut the door and then pointed up the stairs to her room. “Where she always is waiting for you.” You nodded your head at him giving him one last look before making your way up to her room. He watched as you quickly sprinted up the stairs. Watching as your hips moved and how your ass was in perfect view.

He shook his head relieving the thought of you knowing how wrong it was. Soon he made his way up the stairs as well to his own room that was until he heard you talking in a not so quiet voice to his sister.

"I wouldn't say it was awful, just not what I wanted." Sarah cocked a brow to you. "Well, what did you want. I mean you wanted to have sex with him, right? What more could you want. You practically begged me for his number." She chuckled.

"Yes, I did." Rafe moved closer to the crack in the door leaning his ear closer. He listened closely to your words. "What does she mean" he thought to himself.

Yes, Rafe knew you, but he thought he knew you well enough. He never saw you as the type to beg for sex with someone, or much less really want it.

In his head you always were the type to never come off as sexual but definitely not innocent. He truly just thought that in this world full of sex you had no idea what you were doing or had any care for it, and he was so wrong.

"Okay yes I wanted it. Like the party last week, I wanted to just be dragged off with him somewhere because I thought he'd fuck the shit out of me. See that's what I wanted." You crossed your arms and huffed.

"Okay, then what happened that you didn't like? Was it the fact it was on the beach or like what?"

"I guess the best way I could put it is I wanted it to me more filled with lust and desire. I wanted it to be rough and I wanted to not be able to walk today." You chuckled along with Sarah.

"Well how did it go for you?" You sighed trying to think back to last night. "Well, he took me out on the beach, and he had a blanket with him. Talking happens and whatever and I end up straddling his lap."

Sarah nodded her head waiting for you to continue, but Rafe stood out the door as he held his breath. He was pissed. You fucking some other man and he didn't even do it right pissed him off more. But he stayed quiet.

"We made out a bit and I started to grind on him a bit. Obviously, he got a rise up, so I got all cocky and pulled his dick out. After a few moments of me just doing my thing, I pulled my bikini bottoms off and rode him. He was like..." You paused trying to find your words.

"It was like he never wanted it to end and not saying I don't like that, but I asked if he could get on top and we'd go faster he just straight up refused. Which basically dried me up and I didn't even want to do it anymore."

Sarah tried to hold back her laughter. "Hey, it's not funny I'm being dead serious." You smacked her arm but laughed as well.

Rafe was the only one not laughing. Red filled his face with anger, and he scoffed at your words. "Didn't even fuck her the way she wanted. What a pussy." He thought.

"Well maybe you'll find someone who just rocks your world." Sarah smirked. "Yeah, as if." But only if you knew what little plan Rafe had planted into his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That same day you had planned on staying the night with Sarah. Of course, to everyone in the house it was no surprise. It was now late at night and Sarah was asleep. However, you sat awake in her bed scrolling mindlessly on your phone till a text popped up.

"Come here."

You read the text from Rafe. Confusion spread across your face. You texted back.

"Sarahs asleep. Where are you?"

"My room. Just come here you won't wake her, she's a heavy sleeper."

You sighed and turned off your phone placing it on the nightstand beside you. Slowly you rose up from the bed making your way to the bedroom door making sure to stay as quiet as possible.

You looked back at Sarah one last time before closing the door. You slowly tiptoed your way down the hall to Rafe's room. You raised your hand to the door knocking slow and quiet. Soon Rafe opened up the door nodding his head telling you to come in.

As you walked in you looked around the room that was dimly lit by the small lamp setting you realized you had never seen Rafe's room before. "I have never been in here." You turn back and look at him leaning up against the door. "Cleaner than I thought." You chuckled.

He shrugged. "Don't know why you'd ever think that. I believe I come off as a clean person." He paused. "Unlike you." You looked at him confused for a moment as he stepped closer to you, his rich cologne filled your nostrils.

"I heard you. Talking to my sister earlier today." He walked behind you. "How you wanted to be fucked hard." He leaned in closer to your ear whispering. "How you want it to be filled with lust and desire."

His words sent chills down your spine and your own words choked up. "So, fucking dirty and here I was thinking you didn't care about these things." His hands slowly made their way to your hips giving a slight squeez.

"Rafe..." You spoke barley above a whisper. He smirked against your neck placing a small kiss right below your ear. "Is that what you want? To be fucked like the whore you are?"

Your legs squeez together trying to release some of the tension that was building up. You let out a shaky breath as one of his hands trail down to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

"Is this what you want?" He whispered. You nodded your head squeezing your eyes shut as he played with the waist band. "Words."

"Yes, I want this." He slid his hands down your shorts. Two of his fingers rubbed against your folds. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. He rubbed circles around your clit as your hips moved forward chasing his touch.

You let out a small moan and immediately Rafe slaps his hand onto your mouth. "What you want the whole house to hear? As much as I'd love to hear your pretty little moans you need to keep quiet."

You nodded your head frantically. "Good girl." Rafe then removes his hand from you making you whine at his loss of touch. He stepped back from you grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed. He pushed you down on the bed and you let out a gasp.

He crawled on top of you and basically ripped off your clothes and his throwing them on the floor. Rafe started to kiss your neck earning a small gasp to leave your lips.

"Rafe please..." you whine out. "What do you want?" He smirked against your neck. The words couldn't seem to leave your lips as he left a bite on your sweet spot right below your ear.

"Don't go quiet on me now." He rose up to look at you. "Tell me what you want." You started to bite your lip at the sight of him. The sly smirk planted across his face. His shoulder muscles showing more featured as he held himself up.

"Fuck me Rafe...." As soon as the words slipped from your lips it felt like sweet honey on his tongue. He spread your legs open, and you wrapped them around his waist trying to pull him in.

"So needy?" He chuckled making you want him even more. "Rafe..." You breathed out. "Words sweetheart." He smirked once again. "Rafe please fuck me." Your wish was his command.

He lined himself up to you and without warning slammed into you making you let out a loud cry. He quickly slapped his hand over your mouth. "Shut the fuck up." He groaned out.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he thrusted into your cunt hard and fast. "You feel so fucking good. Holy shit." His words were breathless as if he blurted them out of pure pleasure.

His hand still planted on your mouth as the other held your waist tightly. You threw your head back at all the new pleasure rising in you. Rafe looked down at you smirking at the absolute complete mess you were in this moment.

"You like how I fuck you. I bet that pussy boy could never be like this with you." You moaned against his hand as the words leaped off his tongue.

As Rafe pounded into you harder and faster the headboard started to move. He let go of your waist grabbing the board holding himself up as he stayed covering your mouth. You watched his muscles tensed and sweat glistened on his body.

All the pleasure plus the view of him really added onto you forgetting about your shitty hookup. "Fuck..." He groaned out throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

In an instant Rafe grabbed you off the bed still fucking you and took you into the big bathroom inside his bedroom. He turned you around facing the mirror. "I want you to see that pretty little face when you cum for me. A face you'll never see without me fucking you like this."

He held your mouth again making you look at the beautiful mess you were in the mirror. Him pounding in and out of you. Your breast bouncing. Him making direct eye contact with you through the mirror itself.

Muffed moans and him slapping his thighs against your ass echoed through the tile walls. As you could feel your peak approaching you closed your eyes. "No." In one swift move he wrapped his hands around the back of your hair forcing your eyes open to see yourself.

He smirked as he watched you bite your lip holding back you loud beautiful moans. With a few sloppier thrust Rafe was chasing his own high. Throwing his head back as he pounded into you. "Fuck me." He groaned out.

Your high had reached his peak biting your lip so hard blood started to form. Rafe grabbed you pulling you against your chest holding your neck. "Come on baby." He whispered in your ear making you crash.

Your legs started to shake and the image of you two in the mirror was all too much to handle. Rafe started to come down from his own high. His thrust and movements slowing down as his hot liquid shot inside you.

Rafe turned your head towards his planting a sloppy wet kiss on your lips and he pulled out of you. Rafe pulled away, and you both panted for air more than ever. "That's how you should be fucked." A smirk planted across his lips.

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