#MIGHTY OUTDOOR

[supercolossaleevee]

war paint on

[pool-core]

[mothmanmalewife]

did you know that the official radiation trefoil is supposed to be magenta, by the way

it's supposed to be specifically different from any other warning symbol. the yellow and black of many modern trefoils is dangerous because it's the same set of colors as a lot of other warning symbols!

[dion-smith76]

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ You invite them to live in your Serenitea Pot

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe 

After prolonged years of adventuring, traveling, and battling, you decided it was the appropriate moment to invite your partner to your Serenitea Pot. It’s like inviting a significant other to move in with you, right? You are delighted, and even though your beloved is acting honored and calm on the outside, little do you know - he is secretly screaming with victory on the inside. 

✧ A tender smile graced Pierro’s cold expression. The first time you spoke about him taking residence along with you in your Serenitea Pot mansion, The Jester's inner machination was already planning a wedding. He loved you, with every fiber of his being. And whether you decide to live in the grand Snezhnayan Palace or somewhere private, it won’t hinder his plans to spoil you as his beloved.

It was all according to plan. You wake up, breakfast is already prepared. You start your day, the house is already cleaned. You wish to rest, his arms are already open.

He took his duties as a resident of your humble abode as if he were the househusband of this home. All matters were taken care of by him. And the fact that you two are already leading a private life together like a proper couple ignited his cold demeanor with softheartedness. It suited him; the commotion of the Fatui and Snezhnayan delegations were far away from you two. And with no peering eyes, the Fatui Director was busy with so many thoughts about your future: making your home better, showing himself as a man who would coddle you all day long, choosing a ring for you…

“Dear? You are deep in thoughts again,” - You called out suddenly, your gentle voice breaking his train of vehement thoughts. “I told you, you’re here to rest, not overwork yourself with chores!”

“Ah, my apologies. It seems I was lost in my mind once more. You know my habit of preparedness is often prevalent.”

✧ The honorable Il Capitano went silent the first time you invited him, and his pitch-black helmet did not provide any clues to his already stoic body language. At first, you hesitated. Perhaps he did not feel comfortable taking such an importan-

Next thing you know, the mighty captain is kneeling in front of you, his head hung low in utter reverence. “It would be my greatest honor to receive your blessings. I shall conduct myself with utmost obedience in your domain.”

“Goodness gracious, It’s just my house, Capitano! Not the Tsaritsa’s throne!” 

After much convincing and assurance, you finally had The First of the Harbingers in your dwelling. In the beginning, you pondered, what a man of his caliber would do in his private time. Perhaps more training, or planning for battles? You decided to create a separate area for weaponry storage and training duels. After all, you wanted to be considerate.

To your surprise, Capitano never brought his “work” in the privacy of your home. Instead, he treated you to some of the best home cooking in the seven nations. With a broad outdoor area like your Serenitea Pot, Il Capitano finally managed to flex his grilling skills. You never knew BBQ grilled vegetables could taste so heavenly. And on colder nights, he preferred some home baking.

“Who would’ve thought the strongest man in Teyvat relished such a peaceful routine when he’s at home,” - You teased him once. Feasting like a monarch with his cooking, you have your cherished prepare the best food and provide the strongest cuddles - what else would you need?

“I would never bring you the turbulence of war to the footsteps of your home. After all, mundanity is a luxury that the common folk cannot comprehend.”

✧ When Il Dottore moved in with you - he became an absolute menace to your mental well-being. The upper floor of your manor was entirely occupied for his scholarly needs. From your library to your study; the upper rooms were regaled, making a mini makeshift lab filled with vials of obscure chemicals or too-long-to-read medical names.

But that was not the main issue at all. The greatest conundrum was that Dottore considered your privacy as our privacy. According to him, the Serenitea Pot was a private residence, secluded from the turmoil of the world’s idiocracy. Any temporary visitors would receive a nasty glare from him whenever they stayed. This was his confidential sanctuary with you, not theirs. And in his private time, when it’s only you and him in the house, the Doctor would forget that people often get dressed after a shower - because he would exit the bathroom wearing only a towel around his hips, and keep waltzing around your room like it’s nothing.

“...Uh? Please dress first, Dottore.”

“Very well.”

“Not here!!!”

Nevertheless, you managed all that. What you didn’t manage, however, is how Dottore took the most amount of space in bed. Your bed, mind you. Before he joined your travels, you created a comfy bedroom in your Serenitea Pot, a separate, quiet setting for your favorite mad scholar. Alas, every night you peacefully went to bed, only to wake up with a figure wrapping his arms tightly around your midsection, taking half of your bed.

Today was one of those days. The blankets were a mess, some had fallen to the floor. You feel uncomfortable and claustrophobic in your own bed, something nudging you to almost fall off. You already knew the culprit of your situation - Dottore. He was dozing off comfortably behind you, his arms sleepily thrown around your form, glued to your torso.

You whined groggily, trying to get away - “... You have your own bed. Stop pushing me.”

“Shush. Come here.” - Dottore's arms encircled around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. “It’s our bed now.” 

It seems The Doctor didn’t take long to feel at home. Oh well. The only way to deal with this was to use him as a mattress from now on.

✧ At first, you hesitated to invite Scaramouche to your Serenitea Pot. It was still a work in progress, and not all areas were refurbished or prepared. Yet surprisingly, it was he who opened the discussion of a joint dwelling. Perhaps it was his instinct to keep you closer, to be certain of your safety in his arms.

After asking and discussing, you were pleasantly surprised when the Balladeer stated: “I do not expect you to build a palace. I will help you with the renovation. You can ask for my help.”

And so he did. You felt timid with your emptied Serenitea Pot, yet The Harbinger took it upon himself to aid you. He worked with you on where the house should be, and what type of garden or entrance should accompany it. There was something about his serious gaze whenever he discussed with you the matters of home. As if some old memories were reemerging.

“It doesn't matter. We won’t clutter the place, as a busy environment becomes a nuisance. The less one has - the better.”

With a profound touch of contemplation and minimalism, You and Scaramouche managed to plan an elegant abode. It was simple, yet perfectly maintained - with the best aspects of Inazuma and other foreign nations in the craftsmanship of the furniture. You were surprised but content. You even went as far as to ask your beloved whether he wanted a more traditional Inazuman style for this private dwelling but he strictly rejected it.

He didn’t want any more memories of his “birthplace” to resurface. Not in a place that will be private for you two.

So here you were, giddy with excitement as the interior of your manor was settled and ready. The bedroom was cozy and comfortable, a perfect place to lounge and rest. The Harbinger would groan whenever you tugged and pulled him to sleep next to you. 

“If you move once in your sleep, I’m pushing you off the bed.” 

You promised him you wouldn’t. But it was he who relented and held you close to his chest during the night. He did not need a home or a safe haven from the cruel world; You were already his home. 

✧ Bring in the fine china, and roll out the red carpet - because Pantalone was coming over to your Serenitea Pot. You know that your sweetheart has a manor pricier than Mondstadt’s entire GDP, with fancy knick-knacks and luxuries. But as a couple, it was always Pantalone who insisted on you living with him, since he could spoil and pamper you after long travel expeditions. In his manor, you can simply have everything you ever desire. 

But today was a grand occasion. You decided to invite him to your humble home, even if you had little to impress him with. The Harbinger was ecstatic, this was a step he desired and longed for. Should he dress formal-casual or more extravagant? No, no. His hair must be well-kept. Perhaps he should bring an expensive bottle of Fontainian wine… The evening must end flawlessly. It’s his first night in your home, for crying out loud. An evening designated to culminate with lovely cuddles in your bed, lavishing you with kisses or more. 

Upon entering your cozy home, all his worries dissipated after you embraced him in your usual jovial way. You proudly displayed your manor, tugging at his hand and pulling him closer. Mirroring your pride, he stood analyzing each item or furniture as if it were a priceless relic in a museum.

“Ah, yes. I see this must be a traditional Inazuman doll, one used in ancient arts and rituals.”

“Oh, these round things? This is just a tanuki daruma… They bounce funny.”

“And I see this figurine must be imported as well, my dear? A marvelous craftsmanship of wood and carvings. Interesting.”

“This is just a wooden figurine of an Aranara” - you smiled proudly.

“I like your funny words, darling.” 

✧ If Tartaglia never invited you over to his family home back in Snezhnaya, you would’ve thought this man was homeless. The 11th often stayed in your Serenitea Pot, always giddy yet conscientious. Whenever you wished for any help around the house, his sleeves would roll up and the apron was on; all you had to do was ask, and you shall receive.

Thus, the two of you would help each other. If you were cooking, then he would do the laundry; all chores were equally divided. Childe was naturally hardworking, and you loved him for his dedication to the house. It always felt warmer and cozier whenever he stayed, and you made sure to display your appreciation throughout the day by providing kisses to the cheek or gentle caresses to his hair.

Who wouldn’t be thrilled when their beloved greets them home and kisses them on the cheek? Now that he is residing in your private adeptal realm, it makes him look forward to returning home even more. To be back from a mission, only to kiss you, pick you up, and squeeze you lovingly in his arms.

Alas, despite his domestic joy, he was also becoming restless. Such a huge realm, you could have a whole area for dueling or training an army here. Therefore, he would start nagging at you throughout the day, asking you to join him.

“Come now, sweetheart! Just a quick morning stretch!” - He said from the living room’s doorway.

“Oh, I know! How about we make a shooting range outdoors and see who’ll get the most bullseye.” - his voice rang from downstairs.

“Or a one-on-one sparring match. That will get the blood flowing.” - he even stood behind the bathroom door, still imploring you through closed doors.

All this and more persisted. Even in the early morning, when your eyesight barely adjusted to the sunlight, the first thing you’d see is him leaning over your shoulders “Perhaps we can-” 

“Nope,” - you intercepted, albeit sleepily. Pulling him closer to bed, you made sure he went still in your arms. “No fighting. Only cuddles...”

“Oh? Is that your form of a challenge, darling? Be prepared, because I won't back down.”

[silkjade]

MIRACLE ALIGNERS

neuvillette x reader ⤀ warnings: none ! ⤀ synopsis: the melusines play matchmaker ⤀ notes: do they need an ideal mother

Your relationship with fontaine’s melusines started when you took on the menial task of helping menthe tailor the sleeves of her too long cuffs, and was solidified after your wholehearted support for aeval’s aquabus tour. In such a small community, word travels fast and your popularity skyrockets when mamere paints your portrait as her muse of choice. 

It’s not like you mind, as they’re quite easy to get along with—very sweet, if not a little naive—and you do enjoy their company when they greet you on the streets or invite you to tea. Still, it comes as a bit of a surprise when a few approach you, absolutely convinced that you’d be a great companion to their ‘very lonely, very human friend.’ 

…Which is how you come to find yourself seated at cafe lucerne, impatiently tapping your fingers at this supposed ‘friend’ who would be so rude as to make you wait more than 30 minutes past the designated meeting time. You take a deep breath to keep your irritation at bay, convincing yourself that any friend of the melusines, especially one they speak so highly of, must be a good person.

As you continue to wait, one table away, something very blue crosses your line of sight, and you look up to discover that it’s none other than the esteemed iudex himself, the chief justice who radiates such an air of refined elegance that you cannot help but sit up a little straighter in his vicinity. Seems this day just got a little more interesting as it’s not everyday you run into the notoriously elusive monsieur neuvillette just out and about on the streets of fontaine.

You yourself have been to your share of trials at the opera epiclese, seen him from his seat up above, looming over the courtroom, high and mighty. Up close, he’s still all sharp lines and perfect etiquette, the very personification of grace, but you can’t deny the fact that he’s so much more handsome in person. 

He casts a glance towards a nearby clock, and while his expression remains largely neutral, his violet eyes dance, perturbed. Perhaps he’s also meeting someone here? You deduce that it must be so, judging by the fact that he’s seated at a table clearly meant for more, and since you obviously have the time, you might as well play detective, which now begs the question: who could he be meeting?

You highly doubt it’s lady furina, so perhaps another official? Except an outdoor cafe is hardly the place to conduct such business. Besides, the average fontainian would be much too intimidated to dare keep someone of such high regard waiting. Maybe a friend, then? 

Your head tilts as you think through your observations. At least outwardly, monsieur neuvillette is…cold. He presents himself the same way in and out of court: untouchable as the sun, but with none of its warmth. He’s private and stays out of the public eye, only ever seen interacting comfortably with the archon and…the melusines… 

You lean back in disbelief at the way it all clicks. Impossible. The friend the melusines so adamantly wanted to introduce you to is…monsieur neuvillette? What a ridiculous notion to even entertain. Besides, it’s public knowledge that he’s much more of a father figure to them… although it does explain why they seemed so tongue-tied describing this so-called ‘friend.’

And…he does look quite forlorn sitting there, face blank and fingers laced together. You make a mental note to remind your little friends that as amiable as he may be with them, they cannot just blindside you with the chief justice of fontaine. Still, a meeting is a meeting, and it’d be terribly rude of you to just up and leave.

“Um, pardon me monsieur neuvillette but you wouldn’t happen to be meeting anyone here, would you?”  

Neuvillette blinks. What a pleasant surprise; not many approach him of their own accord. “As it happens, I was supposed to meet a few melusines for tea.” He gestures to the evidently empty table, though his sharp ears catch the faint whispers amidst the rustle of leaves to his side. 

“However, I suspect they may have forgotten to inform me of their change of plans.” He clears his throat, tilting his head towards a nearby bush where the tips of a few very colorful pairs of ears wiggle in excitement.

The corners of your lips quirk into the beginnings of a small smile. “That’s funny—a few melusines insisted that I meet a very human friend of theirs, though he’s yet to show up.” For obvious reasons, you decide to drop the fact they called him lonely behind his back.

Ah. So you were the kind individual his melusines often spoke so fondly of.

“Perhaps he attended the trial this morning. It did run longer than anticipated.” Yes, you knew there must have been a valid explanation to the tardiness. 

“Well, maybe we can keep each other company while we wait?”

Neuvillette gestures at the empty chair across from him and you swear the sun seems to shine a little brighter. “I would very much like that.”

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[norikuna]

SOLDIER, POET, KING — toji, suguru, satoru minors dni!

prologue. → medieval...bardcore...need i say more? thou art going back to middle earth with this one folks 😁

pairing. warrior!toji fushiguro x afab!reader / court advisor!suguru geto x afab!reader / emperor!gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. toji takes thee against a tree, geto's a munch, gojo's just kinda needy. doing it outdoors, getting eaten good on a lot of cushions, giving a massage?

word count. 4.5k song inspiration. soldier, poet, king — the oh hellos

a/n. listened to the bardcore cover of shakira's hips dont lie while writing. toji's is short tho idk why dont @ me

mp3. he will tear your city down (soldier) / he will slay you with his tongue (poet) / smeared with oil like david's boy (king)

TOJI FUSHIGURO — there will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword.

you're not sure what initially possessed you to follow him into the dense woods outside the encampment, but you sure as hell don't regret it now, not with the rough bark of the tree pressed against your back, grounding you as one of toji's large hands find their home on the back of your neck. the light pressure has you entirely dizzy, but that could also be attributed to the rough drag of his thick cock against your inner walls, slam!

over and over, at a giddying pace that sends shivers down your spine, and stars dancing across your eyes. the scent of pine, earth, and your own dripping arousal fills the air, and you groan as you taste the saltiness of the warrior's skin and the sweetness of his tongue, stained from the ginger confections that soldiers usually shared around the camp to invigorate them through the long nights.

his lips are demanding, fiery even as they push harder against your own, and you shudder as you feel the scrape of a thin scar against your cheek as the world fades away.

the only sound being your quivering breath, and the filthy smack! of his pelvis against your legs, which have been unceremoniously spread against the tree, riding your skirts up and if toji were to step away, and leave you there, all would see the silver, glassy sheen that dripped from your puffy folds.

but you pull him closer, wrapping your own shaking arms around his broad shoulders, as you mewl for him to keep going.

"there! ah! it's so - so deep, toji!" you try to contain your voice to a whisper, desparately praying that his comrades nearby aren't alerted to the lewd sounds erupting from the two of you.

but he looks merely pleased, dangerous like this, and his green eyes are hazed over with lust, the feeling of your tight cunt felling such a powerful and feared commander, "yeah, shit - deeper then?"

and he's angling himself closer to you, so his fat, bulbous tip must be kissing your most sensitive spot, the rough, spongy patch that makes you squeal and sigh, and cry out as you thread your fingers through his choppy dark hair.

"hope you can keep up, fuck!" and toji fushiguro's eyes are gleaming, "i can go till dawn."

didn't the sun set not a mere hour ago?

SUGURU GETO— there will come a poet who's weapon is his word

suguru geto's name is woven into every conversation at court, from the grand feasts to the courtyards where soldiers train. his silver tongue is one of legend, so sharp that it can cut through the thickest of political games, twisting even the most steadfast men and women into submission.

it had been hard not to ignore the sheer gravity of his presence, tall with dark eyes like pools of liquid twilight, and raven hair that's fallen haphazardly out of his topknot as he had led you into his chambers, "i know you've been listening to the rumours, people say many things about me," and his pink lips curl up, "but none can truly capture the beauty of my work."

your tone is breathy under his touch, "and what exactly is your work, geto?"

he's laid you back against the plush cushions of the divan, where tapestries (worth a king's ransom) hang over the walls, and his lips are now ghosting over your neck, "call me suguru," and there he presses soft, shallow kisses, "the court is full of pawns, but it is my job to make them kings."

it's hard not to tremble when his lips are travelling further down, scattering marks over your collarbones, "and me?"

his eyes are now locked with yours, and the world around you seems to slow, "you, an esteemed lady of the court? i could make you a queen."

you can smell the faint scent of sandalwood mingling with the scent of your own heady ache, and it makes your heart race. his lips are teasing, gentle and intoxicating like a fine wine that leaves you craving more, as you let your hands travel under his dark robes and over smooth skin.

gradually, his kisses travel down, moving from your collarbone to the shadow between your breasts, courtesy of his hands making quick work of your gown, then trailing along your stomach, each kiss igniting a trail of warmth that leaves a hot syrup pooling between your legs.

"hngh - lower, suguru! keep going!" and you angle yourself so your legs are spread wide and he can slot his broad frame right between them, right where you need him.

but he is not one to be direct, ever, and he gives you a teasing smile as he ghosts his fingers across silk-sodden undergarments, "lower?" and now he's pressing the pads of his fingers across the fabric, leaving lightning shocks in their wake, "lower, like here?"

and his fingers have found home, drawing figure-eights over your throbbing bud as you arch your back up, "yes, fuck, right there!"

you're given not a second or more to breathe, or choose your next course of action before suguru geto is tearing the offending garments off, and away, tossing them far from the divan as you gape incredulously.

silvertongue. the mere epithet does not do justice to how his mouth is laving hot kisses at your core, where the tip of his tongue is prodding at your fluttering entrance, and up over your puffy clit, before hollowing out his cheeks to suck.

GOJO SATORU — there will come a ruler who's brow is laid with thorn

the throne room is vast like a frost-kissed sky, and it stretches beyond what the human eye can comprehend. and the floor beneath your silk slippers is a pale marble sheen, icy and smooth as each step of yours echoes softly, swallowed by the immense space around you, as if the room is holding its breath.

there's a slight smirk curling at the corners of the emperor's lips, his pale hair falling softly around his face like the cool winds of winter that he commands — as he lounges back on the throne carved from white stone that is so pure, it gleams like ice.

"ah, i was wondering when you would come," and his voice is smooth and low, like the calm before a storm that leaves the earth ravaged, "my sweet courtesan."

"it seems my lord missed me?" now you're on the steps of the throne, and you know that you are the only one, save for the emperor himself, who can make it this far without being blown to pieces or ripped apart by the winds.

you know that he favours you, keeps you as a prize above all others, summons you at the most arbitrary of times to please him, as he does to you.

it is a fearful thought, that gojo satoru would defy the laws of gods and elders to claim you as a partner - one who would sit the throne alongside him as an equal, perhaps one day, but not yet.

the realm need not pay the price in blood for that.

your fingers dip into the bowl of warm oil, the scent of live and rosemary filling the air with an earthy, calming aroma as gojo shrugs the heavy indigo robes off his thick shoulders. the oil is cool at first, but it warms on his skin, gliding effortlessly over gojo's flesh. and you press gently at first, the oil easing against his skin, leaving a faint sheen as you work through the tight knots along his neck.

you hear a soft groan escape his lips, deep and resonant, as your fingers work into the knots of his muscles.

"i must be the luckiest man in the empire," he teases, and his voice is low and playful, as he runs his tongue over his lips leaving a gloss over his petal-pink mouth that you want to capture with your own, "i fear i'm becoming too accustomed to your...delicate, mmph! ministrations."

you snort, digging the heel of your hand harder into the muscle, and another moan escapes him, deeper this time, and it ignites something primal within you.

as your hands travel lower, you find yourself leaning closer, so your mouth ghosts over the shell of his ear, radiating red and hot.

gojo glances back at you, and you can see that the ice-blue of his eyes has become glazed over with desire, "if you keep this up, i might forget that i'm supposed to be in control here."

you indulge yourself, running your hands now over the front of his chest, feeling the ba-dump! underneath his pectoral muscles as you glide your fingers across him, "just wait, my lord, i can be quite persuasive when the mood strikes," you flick a pink nipple, and watch as he shifts, "perhaps, we might even shift control."

before you know it, he closes the space between you, with a soft laugh, and your lips meet his, soft and tentative at first — deepening as he pulls you onto his lap, and you gasp as you feel the thick bulge underneath the woven fabric, skirting your hips against it for the most delicious friction.

still, the oil slicks your hands as you run them over as much skin that you can find, and it's messy, full of fervour, as he runs his hands now up your robes, and prods a slender finger right past your gaping, quivering entrance, the ring of muscle allowing him in easily, such was your own want.

"now this," he whispers, the slighest whimper falling through his voice, against your lips, "- is how a true emperor enjoys his courtesan."

[blakeswritingimagines]

She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy

Summary: Going out to the country to spend the summer with your grandparents wasn't ever new to you... but the new cute ranch hand is.

Warnings: Pining, Slight use of Y/N, Blowjob, Outside sex, Protected sex, Some dirty talk, Talk of round two.

Word count: 4.2k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire characters nor do I claim to own them.

He crossed his arms standing across from you, his muscles flexing softly under the sunlight as he looked you up and down, he smirked a little as his eyes landed on your figure again. He took his time checking you out as you arrived to stay with your grandparents for the summer, he had a pronounced southern accent, and he was handsome, not to mention his southern charm. He moved closer to you as he slowly spoke again. “ain’t seen you here before, sugar.”

You felt his gaze running over your body like a caress, sending a shiver down your spine. His southern accent was both charming and captivating, and his muscular frame seemed to radiate masculinity. You tried to keep your cool as you looked up at him, but you couldn’t help the way your heart raced in your chest. “Yeah, I’m just here for the summer, visiting my grandparents,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “And how about you?” "Visiting family, huh?" Zack asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Well, ain't that somethin'. It's mighty fine to have some fresh blood 'round these parts." He stepped even closer, invading your personal space just a bit. The heat of his body was palpable, and you could smell the musky scent of his cologne mixed with the earthy aroma of horses and leather. "I'm Benji," he said, extending a large, calloused hand towards you. "Benjicot Blackwood. Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss…" He trailed off, waiting for you to supply your name. His eyes sparkled with mischief and something else - a primal intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

Your heart skipped a beat as he approached, invading your personal space with his imposing presence. The scent of his cologne and the smell of the outdoors on his skin was overpoweringly masculine, and it made you feel both excited and slightly intimidated. You took his hand in yours, shivering at the texture of his calloused skin against your own smooth fingers. "It's nice to meet you, Benji," you said, your voice coming out a little breathless as if actually looking forward to the summer for the first time since you were a kid. "I'm Y/N." The corners of his mouth twitched into a grin as he shook your hand firmly, holding onto it longer than necessary. "Pleasure's all mine, Darlin," he drawled, "I hope you're planning on stickin' around for a while. This ol' town sure could use someone as pretty as you to liven things up." He winked at you playfully, the sparkle in his eye undeniable. Benji said, grinning widely as he let go of your hand. "I reckon we'll be seein' more of each other around these parts." He winked at you playfully before turning to leave, leaving you alone once again. As he walked away, he threw one last comment over his shoulder at you. "Don't forget now, Y/N, these parts aren't best known for its nightlife, so best be careful where you venture off to this summer."

You grew flustered at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a little flustered as he held onto your hand for longer than necessary. You tried to keep your composure as he smiled at you, but your heart was racing inside. What was it about this man that made you feel so off balance? You watched him walk away, your eyes lingering on his muscular form, before he turned to throw one last comment over his shoulder. You didn't know why, but his words only intrigued you.

Every day, that encounter with Benji played in the back of your mind. You couldn't shake the memory of his smile, his scent, his intense gaze. And now, as you walked through town, you found yourself looking for him, unconsciously hoping to run into him again. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him walking towards you on the sidewalk. He was wearing a tight shirt that hugged his muscular torso and a pair of jeans that hugged his hips in the best way possible. As soon as he spotted you, Benji's grin widened even further. He tipped his hat in greeting and sauntered over to you, his boots clicking against the pavement. "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," he teased lightly, his voice deep and warm. "Thought maybe I'd see ya wanderin' 'round town today." He leaned casually against the wall beside you, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "What brings you out and about? Plannin' on causin' trouble already?"

You tried to keep the grin off your face but failed miserably. You couldn't help it; there was something about this man that made you smile. "Just enjoying the summer breeze," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "And no, I don't plan on causing trouble. At least, not too much trouble." You glanced over at him, taking in the way his shirt hugged his muscular body. It was hard to ignore how attractive he was. "Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," Benji drawled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He pushed himself off the wall and stood towering over you, making you acutely aware of your own smaller stature. "Trouble has a way of findin' people who don't expect it." He tilted his head slightly, studying your face with interest. "So, tell me, Darlin, what do you enjoy doin' when you're not causin' trouble?" You swallowed hard as he stepped closer to you, his tall frame towering over you and making you feel small. You tried to keep your cool, but your heart was beating faster than normal. "Well," you began, trying to sound as casual as possible, "I like to read, hike, that sort of thing." You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "And you? When you're not busy ranching or chasing trouble, that is."

"Ranchin', ridin' bulls, fixin' things," Benji listed off, shrugging his shoulders. "The usual stuff. Nothin' too excitin'." He paused for a moment, his gaze drifting over your face. "But I gotta say, spendin' time with pretty ladies like yourself is always a nice change of pace." He flashed you another wink before pushing himself off the wall completely and straightening up to his full height. "Anyway, I best get goin'. Got some chores waitin' for me back home. But I hope to see you 'round these parts again real soon, Y/N." With that, he touched the brim of his hat in farewell and strode off down the street, leaving you watching after him with a fluttering stomach and a racing pulse. You watched as he walked off, his tall, muscular frame striding away with ease. Your heart was racing in your chest, and you found yourself staring after him long after he had disappeared from sight. You tried to shake off the feeling, reminding yourself that he was just a charming cowboy who probably said those kinds of things to a lot of girls. But still, you couldn't deny the effect he had on you. You knew you'd be seeing more of him soon, and that thought both thrilled and unnerved you.

As the days went by, you found yourself thinking about Benji more and more. You kept your guard up, trying to convince yourself that it was just a simple crush, nothing serious. But with each passing day, you found yourself growing more and more infatuated with him. You tried to push him out of your mind, but he was like a stubborn weed, refusing to be uprooted from your thoughts. The more you tried to avoid him, the more you found yourself in places where you might run into him. It was as if your own subconscious was betraying you. As the days passed, Benji couldn't help but notice the way you would glance his way whenever you happened to cross paths. There was something different about you, something more than just a simple crush. He wondered if you felt the same pull towards him as he did towards you. One afternoon, while he was working in the barn, he caught sight of you strolling past, your hair blowing gently in the wind. He watched you for a moment, admiring the sway of your hips and the curve of your waist. Then, without thinking, he called out to you.

You were walking past the barn, lost in your own thoughts when the sound of your name being called broke you out of your reverie. You looked up to see Benji standing outside the barn, his lean, muscular form illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the doors. Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly composed yourself and walked over to where he was standing. "Hey," you said breathlessly. Benji grinned as you approached, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Afternoon, Darlin'," he drawled, tipping his hat to you. "Been thinkin' about you lately." He leaned against the barn doorframe, his biceps flexing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. "Wonderin' if you might wanna take a ride with me sometime. Out to the river, maybe. It's a mighty fine spot for picnics and such." He winked at you suggestively, his meaning clear. "Whaddya say? Wanna spend some time with me this weekend?" Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you tried to maintain your composure. Spending time alone with Benji, out in the wilderness, just the two of you? The idea was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. But you couldn't deny that you were attracted to him, and the thought of spending a day in his company was very tempting. "Umm, yeah, sure," you said, trying to sound casual. "I mean, that sounds nice."

Benji's grin widened at your acceptance, and he clapped you on the shoulder, his touch firm and reassuring. "That's the spirit, Darlin'," he said, his voice low and encouraging. "Saturday mornin', meet me at the stable by nine. We'll saddle up and head on out." He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Looking forward to it," he added, before turning and disappearing back into the barn, leaving you standing there, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness wash over you. You stood there for a moment, the warmth of his hand still lingering on your shoulder, as you watched him disappear into the barn. Your heart was racing in your chest as you replayed his words in your head. A day alone with him, out by the river… It sounded both exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. You smiled to yourself, your mind already imagining what the day might hold. You'd have to prepare, and make sure you had everything ready for the ride. And most importantly, try to calm down your nerves before the big day.

The next few days passed quickly, filled with preparations and anticipation. You packed a small picnic basket with sandwiches, fruit, and a couple of bottles of water, and made sure you had everything you needed for a day out in the sun. The night before the ride, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of what the next day might bring. You tried to calm yourself, to remind yourself that it was just a casual outing with a handsome cowboy, nothing more. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the anxious flutter in your stomach. Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, the sun shining down on the ranch with its usual vigor. Benji was already waiting for you at the stables when you arrived, his horse saddled and ready to go. He greeted you with a wide smile and a tip of his hat, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Mornin', Darlin'," he drawled, his voice warm and inviting. "Ready for our little adventure?" He held out a hand to help you mount your horse, his fingers brushing against yours and sending a shiver down your spine. Once you were settled in the saddle, he swung himself up onto his own horse with practiced ease, and together, you set off across the open plains, the wind whipping through your hair and the sun warming your skin.

You felt a thrill of excitement and nerves as Benji helped you mount your horse, the brush of his fingers against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. The ride through the open plains was a thrill, the wind whipping through your hair and the sun warming your skin. You chanced a glance at Benji as you rode, taking in his lean, muscular frame, the way his hips moved with the rhythm of the horse's gait. You tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach and focus on the beauty of the landscape, but it was hard not to feel the pull of his presence beside you. As you rode, Benji pointed out various landmarks and shared stories about the land and its history. His deep, resonant voice washed over you, and you found yourself hanging on his every word. The miles seemed to melt away under the horses' hooves, and before long, you reached the riverbank. Benji dismounted first, then turned to help you down from your horse. He led you to a shaded spot near the water's edge, where a large oak tree provided welcome relief from the sun. "Here we are," he said, spreading out the blanket he'd brought along. "Ain't she a beaut?" The river sparkled in the sunlight, its waters crystal clear and inviting. Benji gestured for you to sit down, and you graciously accepted, settling in for a relaxing afternoon by the river.

You felt a sense of peace wash over you as you took in the beauty of the river, its waters sparkling in the sunlight. You sat down on the blanket, your skin prickling with anticipation at the thought of spending the afternoon alone with Benji. He settled down beside you, his body close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. The two of you ate your picnic lunch, chatting and laughing, sharing stories and jokes. The hours seemed to fly by in a blur, and before you knew it, the sun was beginning to sink low in the sky. Benji became increasingly attentive, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. His presence was comforting, and you found yourself drawn to him even more. As the afternoon wore on, the heat of the day began to wane, replaced by a cool breeze that carried the scent of wildflowers and grass. Benji stretched out beside you on the blanket, propping himself up on an elbow to watch you. "You're doin' real good, Darlin'," he said, his voice low and appreciative. "Real good." He reached out, tracing a finger lightly down the side of your arm, sending another jolt of electricity through your system. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close you were sitting to him, how easily he could reach out and touch you.

You felt your breath catch in your chest as his finger traced down your arm, sending a shock of electricity crackling through your body. His words washed over you, leaving you feeling both vulnerable and exposed. You tried to keep your cool, but it was hard not to notice the way he was looking at you, his gaze intense and full of desire. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling out of control. The tension between you was palpable, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore. Benji watched you closely, his eyes reflecting a smoldering intensity. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "You know, I've been wantin' to get my hands on you since the moment I laid eyes on ya." His voice was low and husky, sending a ripple of desire coursing through your veins. He placed a hand on your thigh, his grip firm yet gentle, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just above your knee. "How 'bout we make the most of this beautiful day?"

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he leaned in close, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the strength of his hand on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. Your mind was racing, torn between the thrill of his touch and the knowledge of what might happen if you let yourself go. You took a shaky breath, trying to find your voice. "What did you have in mind?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Benji's lips curved into a wicked smile, his eyes darkening with lustful intent. "Well, for starters," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, "how 'bout we lose these clothes?" He tugged gently at the hem of your shirt, his fingers deftly working their way up to your shoulders. "Seems like a shame to waste such a lovely day all covered up." His touch was light, teasing, promising more than just a simple undressing. The sensation of his fingers on your skin was intoxicating, making you forget everything else except the desire burning within you. You nodded slowly, unable to resist the urge to give in to his touch. "Okay," you breathed out, your voice laced with longing. You lifted your arms, allowing him to peel your shirt off, exposing your bare torso to the warm afternoon air. The sight of his hands on you, the look in his eyes, it was all too much, and you found yourself leaning in closer, craving the contact.

Benji's hands moved with purpose, peeling off your shirt and tossing it aside. His eyes roamed over your exposed flesh, drinking in the sight of the curves of your body. He let out a low growl of approval, his hands moving to the waistband of your pants, unfastening them with a swift motion. "You're gorgeous," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He pushed your pants down, along with your underwear, revealing the rest of your body to his hungry gaze. You felt a rush of heat flood through you as he stripped you bare, his eyes raking over your naked form with undisguised hunger. The cool air kissed your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. You reached out tentatively, running your hands over the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "Your turn," you murmured, tugging at the hem of his shirt. You wanted to see him, to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in the heat of his body.

Benji stood up, shedding his shirt with a fluid motion, revealing his muscular torso to your eager gaze. He looked down at you, his expression filled with raw desire. "Like what you see?" he teased, his voice rough with arousal. He kicked off his boots and stepped out of his pants, standing before you completely nude. His member stood erect, throbbing with need, a clear indication of his desire for you. The sight of him, so powerful and virile, sent a wave of desire crashing over you. You reached out, tracing a finger down the length of his cock, feeling it twitch under your touch. "I can't deny it," you admitted your voice a mix of awe and lust. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his chest, tasting the salt of his skin. Your tongue darted out, flicking over a hardened nipple, savoring the sharp intake of his breath. Benji groaned softly, his hands finding their way to your head, threading through your hair. "That feels damn good," he breathed out, his voice strained with pleasure. He guided your head, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to taste the essence of his manhood. His hips bucked slightly, pushing his cock deeper into your warm, wet mouth.

The sound of his pleasure fueled your own, driving you to take him deeper, to explore every inch of him with your mouth. You sucked gently, swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, savoring the salty tang of his pre-cum. Your hands wandered down his body, gripping his ass firmly, pulling him closer to your eager mouth. Benji's grip on your hair tightened as he lost himself in the sensations of your skilled mouth. "Fuck, yeah…just like that," he ground out, his hips rolling in rhythm with your movements. He could feel the heat building, his climax approaching rapidly. With a guttural moan, he pulled back, his cock glistening with your saliva. "Gonna flip you over now," he rasped, his eyes blazing with lust. "Want to be inside you when I come." The thought of him taking you from behind, filling you completely, sent a surge of excitement through your body. You nodded eagerly, turning onto your stomach, and presenting yourself to him. You glanced back over your shoulder, watching as he positioned himself behind you, his cock brushing against your slick entrance.

Benji's eyes met yours, a flash of false concern crossing his face before a sly grin spread across his lips. "Don't worry, darlin'," he purred, reaching over to grab a condom from his discarded jeans. He tore open the packet with his teeth and rolled the latex over his throbbing erection. "Now, where were we?" He gripped your hips, guiding his cock to your entrance, teasing you with the tip before finally thrusting deep inside you in one smooth motion. The sensation of being filled so completely made you gasp, your body arching back against him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock stretching you, claiming you as his own. You clenched around him instinctively, your inner walls clamping down on him, desperate for more. "Oh god…" you moaned, the pleasure almost too intense to bear. Benji began to move, setting a steady pace, each thrust driving deeper into your welcoming warmth. His hands explored your body, squeezing your ass cheeks, digging into your flesh as he fucked you relentlessly. "Damn, you're tight," he grunted, his strokes becoming more forceful, more urgent. He leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your neck.

You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your back, syncopated with the rhythm of his thrusts. The sensation of his hard body against yours, the way he filled you so perfectly, was overwhelming. You pushed back against him, meeting his strokes, increasing the intensity of the encounter. "Harder," you begged, your voice a needy whimper. "Please, fuck me harder." A feral growl escaped Benji's throat at your plea, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. He pounded into you mercilessly, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. One hand slid up your body, cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "You want it harder, baby? Want me to fuck this sweet little cunt until you scream my name?" His words were filthy, his tone commanding, demanding. He pinched your nipple, twisting the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pain-pleasure straight to your core. The combination of pain and pleasure was too much, pushing you closer to the edge. You cried out, your voice ringing with both agony and ecstasy. "Yes! Fuck yes!" You rocked back against him, desperate for more, for everything he had to offer. Your orgasm built rapidly, coiling tightly within you, ready to explode at any moment.

Benji could feel your body tensing, and hear the desperation in your cries. He knew you were close, teetering on the brink of release. He redoubled his efforts, slamming into you with abandon, chasing his own impending climax. "Come for me, baby," he urged, his voice strained with exertion. "Let go, I've got you." His thumb found your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight circles, pushing you over the precipice. "That's it, fucking come on my cock." His words were punctuated by a particularly deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you. The sensation of your walls clamping down on him, milking his cock, was enough to send him careening over the edge. He came with a roar, his hips jerking erratically as he spilled himself inside you. The sensation of his cum filling you, marking you as his, was all it took to push you into oblivion. You screamed his name, your entire body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You could barely stand, your legs trembling uncontrollably, but he held you up, keeping you anchored to reality even as you spiraled into bliss.

Benji collapsed atop you, his heavy breathing mingling with your own ragged gasps. He remained buried inside you, his cock throbbing with aftershocks of pleasure. Slowly, he withdrew, his spent member sliding free with a slick pop. He turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours, seeking confirmation of what had just happened between them. "Was that okay?" he asked, his voice husky with satisfaction. You smiled weakly, still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "It was incredible," you murmured, your voice a whisper. You reached up, running your fingers through his sweat-drenched hair, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. The taste of him on your lips, the memory of his touch, was enough to make your heart flutter. Benji kissed you back tenderly, his lips moving against yours with a rare gentleness. He pulled away slowly, his gaze lingering on your flushed features. "I'd say we're even now," he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He stood, offering you a hand to help you up. "But I'm thinking we might need another round to really settle things."

[aprilcolours]

blackheart- part four

part one - part two - part three

A/N: warning: there is smut in this chapter!! A lot!! be warned!! s*x ahoy!! p*nsises and whatnot!! I’ve also started doing valyrian translations underneath the line bc there is a lot, and i'm taking liberties w black aly being witchy bc i wanna and its Cool

—

The night was young as they set out across the marshes, their horses galloping through mud and muck. 

Benjicot led the way on a black mare, their dark hair almost disappearing into the night. Just behind him rode Visenya, on a white-gray stallion. He had laughed when she picked it. 

She had changed into her favorite dress: a deep red gown with a scooping neckline, beaded and encrusted in rubies. It was odd to see her finery against the wild landscape. 

They rode North to his keep, their purpose known only to them. Vermithor remained behind, so none were the wiser as they secreted away. 

Raventree Hall was certainly not the largest castle she had ever seen, nowhere near as imposing as her home on Dragonstone. It had, however, a quiet grandeur, a dignity that spoke to ages long past and kings long dead. 

Entering into the central palisade, despite the late hour, servants immediately began rushing about, lighting braziers, making preparations for the liege-lord’s arrival.

“Maester Daris!” Benjicot called up into the hall. 

“So the rumors are true,” a woman’s voice rang out. In a doorway stood a tall thin woman with long dark curling waves of hair. She had a strange look about her, a bird-like turn to her features. 

The archer, Visenya thought, a witch they say. Black Aly, she is called. 

“The rumors of the Riverland’s witches?” Visenya replied, hair loose about her, but face impassive. The woman laughed with a nod, and bowed. Benjicot interceded to introduce, 

“My aunt, Alysanne Blackwood. And this is—”

“A princess who needs no introduction from you,” the strange woman interrupted, stepping into the foyer. “Go find the maester then,” she said, touching her nephew’s arm in reassurance. Benjicot glanced once between the women, before stepping up the stairs to wake the maester. 

“An honor, your highness,” Aly began, a cautious tilt to her words. “Would I be remiss in congratulating the joining of our houses?” 

“You would not, Lady Alysanne,” Visenya responded, her tone polite and unbothered. It was clear the other woman was sizing her up, assessing her, so she did not squirm. 

“The ceremony is to be held here? Now?”

“It is,” she replied simply, daring the elder to question her.

“You will honor our ways then I presume,” Black Aly stated, with a jut of her defiant chin. “A dragon’s maidenhead is a mighty sacrifice to the Old Ones, and I’m sure we will want all the divine favor we can manage for the war ahead.” 

The Riverlander witch spoke quietly, so their words were only theirs, but Visenya did not mistake the steel in her voice. 

My mother will rule these people, whoever their gods. And so she inclined her head in acquiesce. 

-

The ceremony was small, in the yard outdoors beneath the giant dead Weirwood tree: the maester to speak the words, Alysanne to provide a relative’s blessing, and them. 

He passed his family cloak over her shoulders, clasping it at her collarbone. The weight was comforting. 

When the Riverlanders finished their ritual however, Visenya asked for a cup of wine and a dagger. 

She raised the dagger to her lower lip and cut it, as she had seen her mother once do. She took a pull from the goblet of wine and then passed them both to Ben. He wore a slight smile as he mimicked her, slicing his own lower lip and drinking. The Valyrian ceremony was sealed with a kiss. 

Black Aly and the Maester wore twin bewildered expressions, but they witnessed the second ceremony all the same. Then they took their leave, walking back up the cobblestone path to the castle proper.

And they were suddenly, blisteringly, alone. 

Visenya’s eyes were wide in nerves, and something else stirring low and tumultuous in her gut, pupils blown open. She had always been able to maintain some small shred of composure around the subject of Bloody Benjicot Blackwood, but here and now she was stripped bare of all of it. She knew what came next and it frightened and excited her in equal measure. Here she could not be the princess, the commander, the dragon rider. 

Here, in this torchlight, beneath the grasping unknowable branches of the dead Weirwood, she was just a girl. 

She bit her lip nervously, and more blood from the slice beaded through. Benjicot lifted a hand to her face, thumb drawing across her full lower lip and smearing the blood across her chin. 

“What troubles you, wife?” he asked, voice so low it was barely a mutter. His eyes caught a flicker of the torchlight and flashed like a wild animal’s.

“Your gods are strange,” she breathed, trying like always to gain some control of the situation.

“Aye,” he chuckled. “So are yours.” Benjicot’s eyes softened then, the viscous gleam undercut by something else— something she did not dare name. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and palmed it gently. 

“We need not do this here, if you find it displeasing,” he offered, his other hand slipping to her lower back to toy with the laces of her dress. 

She considered it: a warm bed or the cool misty ground around her. 

And she kissed him. 

The cloak fell from her shoulders first. Then the tunic off his chest. Then his fingers tangled in the laces of her dress finally gave way. She may have heard some ripping and though it was her favorite dress, he was suddenly kissing at her neck, and she couldn’t be bothered to care. He licked along her jaw and down to the juncture of the shoulder and bit down, hard. She gasped loudly, breath misting in the night air. He passed over the bite with his tongue to soothe the ache and she shivered. 

Finally, the gown slid away, and Visenya stood nude before him. She wanted badly to cover her breasts but she dared not balk. I am a dragon for gods’ sake, she thought, and so she stood straight backed, silver hair loose and tumbling over one shoulder. 

He slid his hand down her neck and to her breast, peaked against the cold. He fell to his knees, hands sliding down her frame as he went. 

He kneeled for a moment before her, as if he worshiped at her altar. She ran a hand gently through his hair. 

Then he kissed at her navel, at her hip, and finally at her core. 

He licked into her, and this too, he did like a drowning man. She gasped, and breathed, and gasped again at the foreign sensations, so strong and new, as they rocked her body. While he sucked and tongued at her center, one hand crept up to her breasts again. He pinched one nipple, rolling it in his fingers, and it was all suddenly too much—overwhelming. She called out a gasping warning, hands gripped tight against his head, before her climax rang through her like lightning. 

Her spine shot straight, back arched up to the night sky, before she folded to the ground, her head and waist caught in his hands so he could lower her carefully. 

Safely laid against the ground, Visenya caught her breath. It seemed as if the world had shifted and she was now trying to find her way back to it. Blinking her eyes clear, she noticed the Blackwood above her, watching. His eyes were unfathomably dark. 

She glanced down quickly and noticed the straining bulge against his trousers. All feelings of trepidation gone, only bliss and quiet satiety left in their wake, she reached a hand down to pull at his belt. 

“Are you sure my lady,” he breathed, a grin slashing across his flushed cheeks. “More?” 

She aimed for her signature raised brow, though she felt so content she doubted she could manage it. He laughed all the same, kneeling back for a moment to undo his belt. 

He pulled his trousers down and his manhood sprung loose, arced with a curve that looked nigh painful. 

Visenya bit her lip again. Emboldened by the pleasure still quivering through her body, she reached a hand to it and ran a thumb across its beaded tip. It was then his turn to shiver. 

They kissed languidly, unhurried, as he situated himself above her, her legs parting naturally to bracket him. They fit together well, slotting into place with a long pull of tongue against tongue. She tasted herself on him. 

His manhood teased at her entrance, before slowly inching forward with a rock of his hips. She could hear a whining-moaning noise. Distantly, she was aware it was her. In tiny increments he sheathed himself fully, pushed to the hilt. The feeling was momentarily so intense that neither dared move, foreheads resting together. 

She was so full, every pleasured nerve drawn taught in the fullness. It was perfect and also agony. So she whined, kicking her heel at his back for him to move. 

He buried a moan into her neck, and obliged. 

They rocked together, slow at first but quickly building pace. The electricity began to arc up her spine once more and she clenched her thighs in warning. As she came, the reverberations of her body ripped his climax from him as well, in a stuttering, heaving, sort of groan. 

They lay together for a long while, and the blood and seed fed the earth beneath the tree. 

-

They returned to the war camp that night, nearly as the dawn broke, exhausted but happy. He lingered at her tent, hesitant to part. She gave a soft private smile. 

“You may stay. If you like,” she offered. He simply nodded his own small smile back, too content to be the biting grin he usually wore. 

-

After too few hours of rest, Visenya and Benjicot rose and dressed for the council. They traded lazy kisses in the golden light of morning. 

The morning, like always, brought news. 

Caraxes had landed nearby. 

-

Her father stood, posture as familiar and straight backed as her own, at the council table as she approached. His dragon helm was tucked beneath one arm. The other lords eyed him warily, speaking to each other in hushed tones. 

Visenya did not falter, striding into place next to him with her chin held high. Benjicot stood behind her a few paces, defensively guarding her rear flank. 

“Kepa,” she greeted. 

Father. 

Daemon flicked his eyes to hers, they were ringed with dark circles. 

“Olvie ēza arlinnon ziry vestragon,” he rumbled, voice rasping. 

Much has changed it seems. 

Something is different in him, she noticed. Her father carried a weariness he had not before his time at Harrenhal. She inclined her head in a gesture of respect. 

“Eman won ērinnon rȳ se Qelbria,” she proclaimed.

I have won victories across the Riverlands. 

She gestured at the pieces on the board and continued, “Eman gūrogon hāre sombāzmion sīr tolmiot.”

I have taken three castles so far. 

He nodded slightly, and she paused to take a slight breath before she continued, “Eman gūrogon iā valzȳrys hae sȳrī.”

I have taken a husband as well.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Whirling Seas Lap At Soft Shores

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3132

Summary: After a gruesome battle with Dwainet, We'ar-ow deserves aftercare from her newly crowned mate.

Author Note: I may have put finishing this off on the back burner. I... I didn't want to finish it. I wanted to leave it open. I hate finishing stories. It's a chapter done in my story. But, I pulled myself up by my big girl breeches and completed it. There will be two other side parts to this.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

All the way back to her quarters, not a word was said between the two of you. Your heart drowned out any noises that may have filled the breezeways. Blood dripped from her fingers and lead a path to her front door. It followed inside the quarters. You led her towards her room and guided We’ar-ow into her bathroom.

It was clean and pristine in here. Until she entered. The neon blood created spots on the tiled floor. You motioned with your hands for her to wait there. Curious, the Yautja listened to your command and watched your form trot over to the bath. A small smile gracing her features. You began to fill up the bath, fingers touching the warm water. Once you deemed it the perfect temperature, you added some incense she never thought to use. They cluttered around the edge of the bath, collecting dust.

A soft aroma filled the humid air. We’ar-ow took a lungful in and let her eyes shut. The heat in her veins was disappearing. The walk back here helped ease down the excitement that filled her entire being. Hunting and killing Dwainet was more than relieving. There may be other dangers that could endanger you, but with the main problem out of the way. You had no reason to fear the outdoors again.

The problem was in her hands. His blood staining the tiles under her feet. It had cold down some but the warmth she could feel was delicious. She had made sure you had watched as she used her own strength to rip his head clean off. To show off. To ensure you knew how strong, how mighty, how skilled she was. We’ar-ow was easily able to defend you from any attackers. Including one she wished she had killed off long ago.

Your soft gaze landed on We’ar-ow. All thoughts of the past left. We’ar-ow dropped the head in the nearby sink before stepping up to your shorter frame. The position forced you to tilt your head back, exposing your throat to her. A vulnerable position she would be caught dead in. Yet, here you are, willingly giving such a fragile portion of your body to her. Not that the rest of you was vulnerable as well. She didn’t mind. It made you, you.

We’ar-ow’s chest no longer heaved for air. The battle left her veins. Now, it was time for you to step in.

The first thing you did was tap at her armor on the top portion of her torso. Her bright eyes observed you a little more. Then, her hands got to moving.

They easily unlatched each piece of metal and let them fall to the ground. We’ar-ow would later come around to cleaning them. Right now, she was more focused on you. There was something you were planning. She was willingly to wait it out and see what you come up with.

From her shoulders, she moved down. The pink Yautja exposed her entire frame to your scanning eyes. Despite the battle being unfair from the start, a three verses one – you didn’t find much for her injuries.

Most of the blood being her enemies. There were going to be plenty of bruises to see later. All you could see was where a few throwing knives were embedded into her skin and where her tresses had been pulled out. If only that darker red Yautja had still a little life left in him. You would’ve been more than happy to stomp on his face. Her beautiful tresses had been tug straight out of her skull. A very sensitive organ.

Once the last piece of clothing had been discarded to lie at her feet. You scanned over her, admiring the frame she’s crafted from meticulously. Then, you realized what you were doing. Right in front of her.

Heat flushed your cheeks to life. You squeaked before spinning around and facing towards the tub. “Um, you can… you can get in whenever you want,” you sputtered and strolled over to the faucet. The bath was close to being filled all the way. You distracted yourself with that and carefully watched her out of the corner of your vision.

We’ar-ow stepped up to the edge of the bath and look into the water. A relaxing aroma soaked into the air, causing the Yautja to let her muscles go lax. She glanced at your crouched position, not even looking at her. She chuckled deep with in her chest.

The water drew her further in past the first step. The bath easily fitted her towering form, designed specifically for someone of her size and stature. She sat down on a ledge, arms spread out on the edge. A position of relaxation.

One of her hands motioned for you to come closer. You gulped before listening to her silent command. The heat in your cheeks still prominent as ever. She looked beautiful like this. After a hard and demanding battle, she deserved this peace to recuperate. You stopped on the other side of her spread out arms and gazed down at her. We’ar-ow used a finger to get you to lean down. Confused, you still listened to her.

Something latched onto your wrist. A tug had you flailing and falling headfirst into the tub. Your body caused water to spill over the edge. You surge past the water’s surface and gasp for air. Adrenaline buzzed to life, trying to fight for your survival. Anger boiled in the pit of your stomach as you scrambled for the edge of the bath.

Hands grasped at your waist and pulled you into a figure. You fought against the hold but it was pointless. All you were able to do was spin around and pounded a fist on her chest.

“What the fuck was that for?!” you screamed at her then wiped off the excess water on your face. We’ar-ow rumbled a chuckle, shoulders rising and falling. You steamed worse than before and harshly huffed, arms crossed.

Now, all of your clothes were soaked and clung to you like a second skin. It felt terrible. We’ar-ow rested her hands on your waist. The tips of her fingers and thumbs nearly were able to touch each other. That just made you feel even smaller than before. You still in her lap and tilted your head up. She was watching you with an unknown emotion swirling in her eyes. You didn’t know what it was.

“I’m all wet because of you,” you pouted, brows lowered, features pulling a ‘resting bitch face’ well. “Do you know how uncomfort-“ We’ar-ow snatched a handful of fabric and easily tore it from your torso. “What are you doing?!” That didn’t deter her from ripping every single article of clothing straight off of your body.

You stayed sat in her lap, unable to stop her until you too were naked as the same as her. After so long, the nakedness wasn’t as much as an issue as before. She’s stripped down plenty of times in front of you. Plus, she’s forced you to bathe despite disagreeing with her. That included what she just did to you.

Her hands returned to your waist and rested. There was no twitching or tight holds on you. It felt like you could leave at any point you wanted. Instead, you stayed there and found her eyes again.

The female Yautja started to purr and gingerly leaned forward. Instinctively, your eyes softly shut on their own and let her rub her forehead against yours. It was just a gentle manner; you almost thought it was a dream. We’ar-ow wasn’t soft. Not unless she wanted to be.

It caused you to relax in her grasp. Your hands came up to touch at her chest, to hold yourself up. One of her palms shifted to drift over the skin on your back. A curse sounded in your head. You melted into a pool of goo in her grasp. She knew what she was doing. It wasn’t like you were going to stop her in the first place.

Then, you shook yourself free from the calming manner and pulled away. One of your hands reached up to cup her jaw, feeling the smoother scales. You sat up higher on your knees and cupped some water with your hands. She watched as you let the water carefully run over her mandibles. You used the water to wash off the blood flakes that stained her mandibles and pink scales. It easily came off with your help.

A silence overcame the two of you. At first, you felt tense, unable to find your voice. We’ar-ow wouldn’t stop look away from you somehow finding your face the best thing to peer at. The stare of a predator forced your muscles to tense up. You fought against it, long enough to clean up her face and call it good.

Next, you worked on her upper torso since the water covered the soft swell of her breasts and down. The steam in the air created precipitation to run down your face. A heat you still weren’t used to. One you may never get a hang of. You ignored her gaze for the betterment of cleaning her up. Green blood of her enemies still staining her scales.

When you reached for the back of her head where the tresses had been pulled out, We’ar-ow ensnarled your wrist. You jolted at the unsuspecting move and found her gaze again. She brings your hand to her breastbone and pushes the palm to the scales. You can feel her powerful heart thump under your touch. A reminder she survived through it all.

We’ar-ow scoots a little closer to the end of the ledge was sitting on then dunked her head under the water. When she came back up, she shook her head and flung water everywhere. You gasped and turned away from the assault. “We’ar-ow!” you scolded but couldn’t hide the slight hint of playfulness in your voice. She instantly started to rub her wet features over your drying skin.

When she deemed it enough, We’ar-ow pulled back and lifted up her top two mandibles. A smirk. You pursed your lip and crossed your arms. “I was trying to be nice and help you. This is how you pay me back?” you huffed. The Yautja started to purr again. Your weakness.

One she knew when and how to use against you. A sigh left your lips. Your shoulders sagged. “You’re lucky I care so much about you.”

Her massive hands cupped your cheeks, easily dwarfing your features. “I am very lucky to have you at my side. Very much so,” she cooed and leaned again to nuzzle her forehead to yours. You let your arms wrap around her neck and stayed there in her arms, enjoying the moment of peace. One you knew would be far and few between.

Both of you clambered out of the bath. We’ar-ow using her brute strength to simply lift you out and set you down on the wet tiles. The heat of the ship and room kept you from feeling a chill. You were happy for once about how hot the mothership is kept at. We’ar-ow steps out and lets the water creates pools underneath each step she made.

After all the times in here, you find the blow dryer and stood on top of the grate. A warm gust of air helped fling off any drops of water that clung to your skin. You moved your way into her room and let the towering Yautja dry off as well. She followed after you.

Before she could stop you, you were quick to throw on some clothing. You knew if she had an opportunity, We’ar-ow would’ve denied you clothing. There was something about you being naked she enjoyed seeing. Especially in the safety of her quarters. All of your features exposed for her eyes only. She deepened her purr and crowded behind you.

Yet, you spun around and poked a finger into her stomach. “Hold up, go sit on the bed,” you demanded then pointed towards her bed. It would decrease her height and make it easier for you to care for her injuries. Her bright eyes narrowed down on your form. She snorted then stroll over to the low bed. You watched her for a few seconds afterwards before trotting back into the bathroom.

A first aid like kit was snatched from a cabinet before you were back at her side. We’ar-ow peered over her shoulder and observed what you were doing.

The kit was opened and laid out off to the side, on the bed. You found a serum and used it to rub across her side where the throwing knives were once embedded in her skin. It was rubbed into her scales and left it exposed. The wounds weren’t severe enough to warrant any bandages. You peered at the pull tresses and cringed at the painful sight.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything for your scalp?” you asked and moved to stand between her open legs. In this position, she was eyelevel with you. You cupped her cheek again and rubbed a thumb along the ridge of her upper mandible.

We’ar-ow shook her head softly. “No, there’s nothing to be done. The wounds will close but the tresses may never grow back. It all depends on if they do or don’t,” she explained and pinched your jaw between two fingers.

Being this close to her, you weren’t disturbed by the face she was still naked. A sight you’ve seen plenty of times, nearly every day. Some Yautjas liked to sleep naked. You kept your eyes strictly on her face, trying to respect her. The sight of her naked was beautiful though. A goddess carved into the most beautiful, most powerful creature to walk this universe.

“Okay,” you timidly responded. In response, We’ar-ow ensnared an arm around your waist and tugged you flush to her. A yelp surged past your lips. Your free hand was then pinned to between the two of you. She laid down on the bed and brought you down with her. Her other arm wrapped around your back, effectively pinning you to her.

You just let it happen. Your eyes slowly shut, letting the calm setting wash over you like the most soothing bath ever. Her arms were a comforting weight on your back and kept you pinned to her. One of the most safest places to be.

An unknown amount of time passed before she was shifting from underneath you. A groggily noise escaped your throat when you felt her warmth leave you. Your eyes blinked open to find We’ar-ow pulling on a simple pair of shorts. The Yautja strolled into the bathroom before heading into the main area of her quarters.

Curiosity got the best of you. You slipped out of bed and lumbered after her retreating form. She stepped into her trophy room. A place you kept a wide berth from. There were human skulls inside. It was natural to fear the fact one of those could be you. This time, you only hesitated before taking the plunge and going inside.

The room was considerably large. A work desk was built into the wall. Random gadgets and smaller bones laid about the wooden table. We’ar-ow set down Dwainet’s skull into a vat full of what had to be acid. It was angry looking and smelled like it was burning. You timidly stepped up to her side and motioned towards the vat. “What are you doing?” you asked and turned your head towards her.

We’ar-ow was watching as the acid bubbled with the added food. “Cleaning your courting gift,” she answered then plucked it from the vat. The sky-blue liquid dripped off of the now skinless skull.

White bones were all that were left in its wake. The other pieces part of the jaw and mandibles had to be scooped out as well. She brought all of them over to the desk and set the pieces down with the skull.

A stool was pulled up for you perch upon. You thanked We’ar-ow and watched. She carefully used a clear string like fishing line to reconnect the mandibles and jaw back to the main part of the skull. The way her large hands were delicate and still with the process shocked you. You didn’t doubt her. Far from it. But, for such a brute creature, We’ar-ow knew when and how to use that strength when the time calls. Including coming to your aid when you needed someone most. She became that someone.

The Yautja worked swiftly with practice. You zoned in on her work and ignored what the rest of the room held. It was best not to think about it. Or else, you’ll freak out. That would look terrible in front of her.

It didn’t take long before she stepped back from the standing desk. Despite the knowledge of who that skull is, you weren’t weirded out. Actually, it offered a sense of peace of mind. Dwainet couldn’t do anything to hurt you anymore. Now, it was just We’ar-ow and yourself to face what else the universe may throw at you. The two of you could defeat them all.

She took the skull into her hands before kneeling in front of you again. Inside the swirling emotions in her eyes, you saw the love that sparkled in them. Your name soft left her mandibles as her gaze pierced your very soul. “I wish to present this skull to you in a show of my skills and triumph of today’s battle. I show my skill and prowess to protect you. I show there is no reason to doubt me or what I can do to protect what’s mine,” she declared and lifted the skull closer to you.

Your hand rested on the dome section of the skull and smiled at her. “We’ar-ow, thank you. You don’t understand how much this means to me.” Your shoulders slightly sagged. “I don’t mean to seem like I’m doubting you but it’s human nature. I know you are strong and mighty. I don’t doubt that. I trust you, We’ar-ow, with all of my heart,” you stated, gaze softening at We’ar-ow.

The air between the two of you grew tense. You felt it squeeze at your chest.

We’ar-ow was the first to break eye contact by clearing her throat and looking away. “Do you have somewhere this should be hung up?” She stood back up to tower over you. You softly huffed through your nose with a shake of your head.

“Anywhere is good.”

The skull ended up above the bed. It’s final resting place of the male who betrayed you.

[toournextadventure]

our little secret

Summary: You're the preacher's daughter with the perfect boyfriend. Lorraine is a rancher's daughter with a less than perfect boyfriend. You were both the best of friends. If only anyone knew what went on behind closed doors.

Word Count: 7.4k Warnings: 18+ smut (fingering, oral), swearing, religious talk (talk of sin, seminary, Christian/Baptist views), religious trauma, mentions of homophobia, angst Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader Taglist: @aahdiieb (Masterlist)

There was something relaxing about spending a day outdoors on someone else's farm. Well, you had a farm; they had a ranch. It was quite the different beast to take care of, but you were more than happy to assist in whatever they needed you for, and they were always more than happy to ask for your assistance.

A benefit of being the preacher's daughter, you supposed.

It wasn't the first time you had found yourself crawling under Mr. Day's truck, and it wouldn't be the last. Piece 'a shit is broke, he grumbled before immediately following it up with don't tell your daddy I swore. You had just laughed at him and promised your lips were sealed.

But now that you found yourself tearing it apart, you had to agree with him. His truck was a certified piece of shit.

You slid out from under the truck and sat up with a sigh, your arms resting on your bent knees. It was going to take far more than one day's worth of work to get it fixed. That was mighty fine with you, though, you liked the Day family. They came to church dutifully and your parents almost always had them over afterwards for lunch. Just a nice, genuine Texas family. That was why you liked them.

Certainly not because of Lorraine.

"She's broke, huh?" Mr. Day asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. You glanced up and saw him leaning against the door frame of the barn.

"She ain't broke," you said with a shake of your head. "She just needs some love." You gave him a teasing smile. "Which you ain't givin' her."

"S'pose not," he huffed.

"Hope you been givin' your family more love than your truck," you continued as you pushed yourself up to your feet. Oil covered hands tried to brush stray pieces of straw off your jeans and left black stains in its place. "Ain't nothin' more important than family."

"Well now you sound just like your daddy," Mr. Day chuckled. You turned your head so he couldn't see the grimace his words caused.

"Sometimes he's right," you managed to chuckle back. If he picked up on the double edge of your words, he didn't acknowledge it. It was better that way.

"Well, he can be right again," Mr. Day said as he stretched his hand out in your direction. "Come on in, now, Mrs. Day made lunch."

You walked forward, suddenly focused on trying to wipe the oil off your hands. Mr. Day's hand rested lightly on your lower back, guiding you back to the house while you were now otherwise distracted. His other hand reached out to hold your forearm, helping you not trip up the stairs. By the time he opened the front porch door for you, you had managed to get absolutely no oil off your hands.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Day," you said with a smile and a little wave.

"Better wash those hands off 'fore you touch anything in this kitchen," she said with a pointed look that then directed you to the kitchen sink.

"Yes ma'am," you said with a sag in your shoulders. It made you feel like a child getting scolded for playing in the mud.

Only once she had declared your hands "good enough" did she have you sit down at the table for lunch. It was the perfect lunch, in your opinion; sandwiches, chips, and an ice cold coke. Mrs. Day really knew how to put the charm on.

"How are your brothers holdin’ up?" She asked once everyone had started eating.

"They're…" you hesitated. Perfect Christian family, your father's voice echoed in your head. "They're great," you finally said with a polite smile. "Just goin’ ta classes.”

“And that fella of yours?” Mr. Day asks.

You almost laughed. Instead you took a bite of your sandwich and took the time to chew before answering.

“Beau is fine,” you said with a small smile to yourself. “He should be back from the rodeo tomorrow mornin’.”

“How’d he do?” Mr. Day asked around his own mouthful of food. “Calf ropin’, wasn’t it?”

“Team ropin’,” you said with a nod. “Think he said him and his partner got third?”

“Well that ain’t half bad,” he mumbled. “Lorraine and RJ are s’pose to get back from that film thing tomorrow, too.”

The mention of Lorraine got your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to rise up out of your throat. Everything about her got your body reacting in ways you couldn’t quite describe. The mere mention of her name got your palms sweaty, your thoughts foggy, and your mouth dry.

But then the mention of RJ made you feel sick to your stomach, like when you drank warm milk after it had been sitting on the counter all morning. The thought of him touching Lorraine, or kissing her, or even talking to her made you irrationally angry. It wasn’t something the good lord would want from you.

Too bad you didn’t really care.

“The four of you should go down to the lake tomorrow,” Mr. Day mused aloud. “Give you all a day or two to relax before gettin’ back down to business.”

“Only if y’all behave,” Mrs. Day scolded. She didn’t wait for either of you to finish your lunch before taking the plates to the sink. You quickly got up to help.

It was the Southern thing to do.

“Go on home, sugar,” Mr. Day said when you finished drying the plates.

“I need to finish your truck,” you said as you leaned your hip against the counter. “She’ll never get fixed if you keep sendin’ me home after feedin’ me.”

“I think she can last a little longer,” he said with a light chuckle. “Go home. I’ll tell ‘Raine y’all can meet up around 2.”

“When the sun’s shinin’ down?” You complained.

“It’s good for you. You’ve been locked in that chapel for so long you’re gettin’ mighty ghostly-”

“-John,” Mrs. Day interrupted. You had to turn away from her so she couldn’t see you laughing. “That’s blasphemy.”

“Preacher’s daughter is here, she’ll forgive my transgressions,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Won’t you?”

“In a heartbeat,” you replied.

“You’re both blasphemers,” Mrs. Day huffed before walking away.

You and Mr. Day tried to stifle your laughter to avoid getting in trouble again, but you couldn’t help it. Only when Mrs. Day beat you both with the hand towel did you both stop, shouting your “sorrys” as you ran outside. You called out your goodbyes and hopped into your daddy’s truck before going back home.

“You’ve gotta be quiet,” you mumbled against Lorraine’s lips. Her fingers scratched against the back of your neck in response before pulling you back to her.

You let her lead, pulling you with her until her back hit the wall with a *thud*. You tried to tell her to be quiet again but she didn’t let you pull away. Her arms tightened around your neck. Your own hands slid under the hem of her shirt, resting on her waist. She shivered, giving you all the approval you needed to trail your fingers up her sides, stopping right below her breasts.

"Please," she whimpered against your lips.

Oh, how that gave you such unholy thoughts.

You didn't bother removing her bra; there was too much risk involved. But you had no shame in pushing it up just enough for your hands to cup her breasts. The smallest moan fell from her lips and you had barely brushed your thumbs against her nipples.

"Quiet, 'Raine," you whispered.

But before she could answer, you softly squeezed one of her nipples between your fingers. She moaned into your mouth that time, and you couldn't help your little chuckle before doing it again. Her back arched, pushing the rest of her closer to you. All you needed to do was put your knee-

-you shoved Lorraine into the coats when you heard the door click and open. You spun around just in time to see Jimmy looking in, quickly meeting your eyes.

"I'm goin' to see Liz," he said. "If Pap asks, I'm out studyin' with Blaine."

"You better not get her pregnant, Jim,” you said quickly, almost forgetting why you were in the chapel closet in the first place. “I can’t protect you from daddy forever.”

“I ain’t gettin’ her pregnant, god,” he huffed. “You know too much.”

“It’s on account ‘a I’m your big sister,” you said with a pointed finger, “and if you get her pregnant before you marry her, I’m gonna tan your hide.”

“You got me shakin’ in my boots,” Jimmy taunted with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll see you later.” He turned to walk out but leaned in through the doorway once again. “Bye Lorraine.”

You locked eyes with Jimmy and froze. There was a small smirk on his lips that you wanted to smack off. But then you heard rustling behind you, and his smile grew when you felt Lorraine’s hands on your waist as she leaned out from behind you.

“Bye, Jimmy,” she said sheepishly.

“Not a word, Jim,” you said with a slight shake of your head.

“You scratch my back, I scratch yours,” he said with a smile. “I’ll tell Liz y’all said hi.”

Both you and Lorraine mumbled goodbyes as Jimmy finally shut the door and left. You let out a shaky sigh and turned around to look at Lorraine. By all accounts she looked embarrassed with her flushed cheeks and guilty smile. But the flush could still be from the fact that she was turned on.

You would be in the same boat.

“I told you to hush,” you mumbled.

“Then keep me quiet,” Lorraine said before she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you in for another kiss that had your stomach twisting into knots.

Oh this girl would be the death of you.

You were still remembering that day at the chapel while you watched Beau finish clearing out the trailer. It was a tough job, watching your fake boyfriend clear out the trailer with his fake friend. The way they laughed and couldn’t keep their eyes off each other was almost embarrassing. They were disgusting, truly. They needed to learn the definition of discretion.

“Howdy, beautiful,” Beau said with a smile when he finally approached you after cleaning back up.

“Afternoon, handsome,” you teased back.

When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he gave you a kiss on the cheek. It was simple, much more conservative than most couples. But it was a line you both had settled on. After all, it wasn’t like either of you were interested in each other. You both had… other fascinations.

“Bye, Huck,” you called out to Hucksley when you started climbing into your daddy’s truck. “I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

“Have fun, you two!” He shouted back with a big ‘ole grin and a wave.

“He likes you,” Beau said when he started driving over to the Day ranch. At the rate you were going, you would both get there just before 2. And then you could finally see Lorraine again.

“Y’all able to get some alone time this trip?” You asked. You didn’t bother looking at him, instead opting to look out the window.

“Little bit,” he said. “You get to see Lorraine yet?”

“No,” you sighed. “She went off with RJ. Again.”

“You know he is her beau,” he said with far too much gumption. “It’s almost expected she go with him.”

“That don’t mean I have to like it,” you said quietly.

“Now you know how Huck feels when I'm with you,” he said. “It ain’t easy, but it’s what we gotta do.”

You didn’t bother answering him. You knew he was right, he was always right. Hell would freeze over the day your daddy found out Beau was nothing more than a front so everyone thought you were both having normal relations. If anyone found out about your feelings for Lorraine, or his and Huck’s relationship, your lives would be over.

But that didn’t make it any easier.

What did make it better was seeing Lorraine standing on the porch with Mr. Day. She was staying out of the sun but that didn’t hide the brilliance of her smile. The scarred side of her face was turned away from the road - a habit she had picked up recently - but you didn’t care. She was home, and oh so close. It made your palms sweaty.

You didn’t wait for Beau to park the car before throwing the door open and jumping out. The ground was still rushing underneath you and you stumbled, but quickly regained your footing. All you wanted to do was run up the porch and hug her, letting her know just how much you had missed her over the past two weeks.

But your feet slowed to little more than a walk when RJ came out of the house with a bag in hand. Right. He was there too. Your smile fell into little more than a grin as you forced yourself forward and up the porch. Lorraine turned and gave you those soft, pitiful eyes that made your knees weak.

And the moment was ruined when RJ wrapped an arm over her shoulder.

“Thought you’d never make it,” RJ said with an irritating grin that had you grinding your teeth.

“My fault,” Beau answered as he finally stood behind you. He dutifully put his hand on the small of your back, just like any good boyfriend should. He always did play the part exceptionally well. “Huck and I took a bit to unload the trailer.”

“Congratulations by the way,” Mr. Day said.

“Thank you, sir,” Beau replied. “Coulda done better, but ain’t half-bad.”

“Would you let me film you some day?” RJ asked. “It’d make a good movie.”

“We’ll see, camera boy,” Beau said with a chuckle.

How he could be so casual around RJ was beyond you. The man caused you to want to do un-Christianly things to him. Whether it was his obnoxious smirk, or his stupid hair, or his dumbass glasses. Every single aspect of him got your blood boiling, and him wanting to film Beau was just the icing on the cake.

“Y’all should skedaddle before it gets too late,” Mr. Day said. “Should be plenty of daylight left to pitch the tents.”

“We can take my daddy’s truck,” you said. Lorraine’s eyes were broken, and butterflies instantly erupted in your stomach. "Plenty of space for everything."

Everyone agreed before grabbing their things, telling Mr. and Mrs. Day goodbye, and loading up the truck. Two tents, food, sleeping bags, and small backpacks with some extra clothes and necessities. It was as if you were all professionals. And you were, if you were being honest.

Well. Everyone except RJ.

"In the cab, pardner," Beau said to RJ once everything was loaded. "We'll let the ladies ride in the bed."

"Yeah, alright," RJ mumbled. He gave Lorraine a quick kiss on the lips before getting in the cab.

It made you sick.

Lorraine was perfectly capable of climbing into the bed of the truck all on her own, you knew that. But you couldn't stop yourself from holding your hand out to help her up. She flashed you that smile that you loved so much and climbed in, sitting on the left side. Her bad side.

You didn't bring it up as you climbed in next, sitting down directly beside her and immediately grabbing her hand. It wasn't like anyone could see, you were both surrounded by gear and the truck was already pulling away. She twisted her hand just enough to interlock her fingers with yours and suddenly things weren't so bad anymore. Things almost felt right.

"How was the shoot?" You asked even though you didn't exactly want to know.

"Rocky," Lorraine said; her first word to you in two weeks. "Nothin' went right so we gave up for the weekend."

"Did you join this time?" You continued.

She didn't answer. Her face was turned away from you and your fingers ached to pull her back. To make her look at you so you could see her eyes, caress her scars, kiss her soft lips. But all she ever did nowadays was turn away from you.

It had started after that very first film they did, when she had gotten shot. All you remembered was Mr. Day calling in the middle of the night to let you know she was in the hospital. Nothing had ever put the fear of God into you quite like that night.

Now she always did her best to sit on your left side so you couldn't see her face. It didn't matter how much you kissed her or tried to comfort her, she always turned away from you. The only time she didn't was when she was coming undone beneath you and had plenty of other things on her mind.

"How's Roy?" She asked instead. It was answer enough; she had done a scene or two for the film.

"Can't eat, can't sleep, hootin' and hollerin' cause he thinks he's still in 'Nam," you said with a shrug. "Daddy says we can pray it out of him."

"I'm sorry." Lorraine squeezed your hand lightly before pulling it into her lap and playing with your fingers.

It was your turn not to answer. You didn't want to talk about your veteran brother, or her smut film, or your preacher daddy. Nothing about Beau or RJ or Huck or anything else. You just wanted to talk about her; anything and everything you could possibly find out.

Not like you, Lorraine, Beau, and Huck had all been friends since you were in diapers and knew each other inside and out. That meant nothing.

Lorraine leaned over and rested her head on your shoulder as the truck continued to bounce down the dirt road to the lake. It was hot and humid and you were sweatin’ like a whore in church. But you still let your own head fall on hers and pulled her closer. You could handle the uncomfortable weather if you had her with you.

“I missed you,” Lorraine said softly before practically cuddling deeper into you.

“Missed you too,” you answered. 

There was a desperation to kiss the top of her head, tell her you loved her again. A desperation to pull her into your lap and kiss away the frown that you knew she had on her lips. To show her how much you loved her and give her something to take her mind off of whatever was bothering her.

But the truck pulled to a stop at the lake and she pulled away. It put a lump in your throat when RJ came around and helped her out of the back of the truck. Beau did the same for you, of course, shooting you a sympathetic smile in the process. It didn’t make you feel any better.

“Wanna help me pitch the tents?” He asked you while RJ took Lorraine to the lake, ignoring all the bags in the back.

You nodded and started to grab everything you could. If you “accidentally” left RJ’s bag in the back of the truck, you could be forgiven. Things happened, you know? The Big Man in White would forgive you for any transgressions. Beau started up a conversation for nothing more than to pass time.

It helped.

The sun was just starting to kiss the horizon when RJ and Lorraine came back, a smile on his face and a slight frown on hers. But that frown turned upside down when you admitted “oh I’m sorry, RJ, I must have forgotten your pack.” He grumbled and left to grab it while Lorraine turned around to hide her smile.

It was the little things in life.

“Hey ‘Raine,” Beau called out while RJ was still gone. She turned around to look at him. “Why don’t you and sweetness over there go get some firewood?” He gestured his head to where you were finishing putting the cooler down on the ground.

Oh that sneaky bastard.

She nodded once and waited for you to join her before walking away. You both knew where the firewood was, you had grown up around this lake. It just gave you a nice opportunity to be close to her; you thanked god for Beau every day of your life.

“Beau’s not very sneaky,” Lorraine said once you were both out of earshot of the boys.

“No he ain’t,” you laughed, “but I love him anyway.”

“RJ doesn’t like him,” she continued. “Thinks he’s fake.”

“Bold words,” you grumbled. You didn’t like talking about RJ; he always seemed to be the topic of conversation during the few moments you got alone with Lorraine.

It seemed Lorraine picked up on it because she reached over and grabbed your hand, slotting her fingers between yours and stepping closer. Her skin was just as sweaty as yours thanks to that Texas sun, and your hands were sliding against each other and were all clammy. And it was perfect.

“How’s seminary?” Lorraine asked. You didn’t necessarily like that question either, but you could at least talk about it.

And you did. You both started talking, going over what all had been happening since Lorraine had started traveling with RJ more often. How you and Jimmy were primed and ready to go to seminary, just needed to find out which one. How Lorraine was really starting to enjoy filming, and even sometimes being in the films. You teased her about the promiscuity, which she promptly shoved you for.

“Better watch out, ‘Raine,” you continued, “the flames of Hell might devour you for your sin of the flesh.”

“Oh shut up,” she huffed, but there was a smile on her face. “I think you commit the same sin.”

“I’m not at fault,” you said. You stopped abruptly and Lorraine was yanked back by your hand. With only a little bit of finesse, you pulled her into you until she had to look up at you. “I fell victim to a temptress.”

“Is that what I am?” She asked. “Your temptress?”

You looked down at her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She went to turn away, to hide the scars covering the entire left side of her face. But you cupped her cheek instead, keeping her still and looking at you. It broke your heart to see her desire to hide away. Did no one remind her how beautiful she was?

“No,” you said softly, eyes trailing over every scar and freckle on her face. “You’re my whole world.”

You didn’t have to make the first move; Lorraine was more than willing to stand on her toes and kiss you. Just a peck, always just a peck at first, almost as if daring the other one to pull away. But it always led to the same thing. You bent down and cupped both of her cheeks, pulling her into another kiss that had butterflies crawling over every inch of your insides.

The moment her hands gripped your shirt collar, you knew you were done for. That needy, whiny grab that was so full of want and desperation, pulling you closer until you threatened to topple over. It gave you that little push to go a bit further, gently biting her bottom lip to draw out the tiniest moan from her.

You thanked God for whoever had invented the little snap buttons on your shirt. Lorraine's slender fingers could pop them open instantly, and you shivered from both the sudden brush of air and her fingers on your chest. Her skin was hot on yours, scalding like hellfire, and it felt heavenly.

A coyote howled in the distance and you quickly straightened, pulling Lorraine closer to keep her safe. It was getting far darker than you had expected and you knew better than to get caught in the open by a pack. You knew she could hear your heart racing in your chest, and she placed a comforting hand on your now-bare stomach.

"We should get back," you said quietly; you certainly didn't want to alert any coyotes to your location.

"We didn't get firewood," Lorraine said just as quietly. Her breath tickled against your chest.

"Beau and I got some while you were gettin' indecent with RJ," you said before immediately stiffening up.

You weren't supposed to admit that.

"And what, pray tell, are we doin'?" Lorraine asked in what you, Beau, and Huck had dubbed her Scolding Mother voice.

"Sinnin'," you said without hesitation. You were already in trouble, no use trying to get out of it.

"Y'all are bastards," she said with a huff and an elbow to your stomach. You coughed and doubled over, giving her the perfect opportunity to start walking back to camp without you.

"Be careful," you whisper-shouted as you ran after her, your fingers trying desperately to button your shirt back up. “Lorraine!”

You were in a state of complete disarray when you both got back to camp. RJ and Beau were already building the fire; well, Beau was forcing RJ to try and do it. He was failing miserably and you wanted nothing more than to laugh, but the look Lorraine gave you shut you up.

“Need some help, RJ?” You asked when he failed for the fifth time to get the fire started.

“I’ll let you try,” he said with a shake of his head and a shrug. The three of you knew it was his way of saying I can’t do it.

You knelt down and got the fire started in one go. You had to stay on the ground for a few minutes too long so you could stop yourself from looking so smug about it. By the time you stood up, convinced the fire would stay steady, Beau and Lorraine were finishing up preparing for dinner and RJ was messing around with his camera.

“You always have that with you?” You asked him, gesturing your head to the device in his hands.

“Never know when you’ll stumble across the perfect shot,” he said with a smile.

Laughter had you turning your head to see Beau and Lorraine with large smiles on their faces. She looked at peace, like she was actually happy to be there with him. There was no intent to hide herself, or keep quiet, or act a certain way. She was just laughing and pushing him around and talking ceaselessly.

It was the perfect shot, and RJ was missing it.

“Quit it,” you told Beau, who was waving a knife around all willy nilly. “You two go sit down before you hurt somebody.”

“Yes mother,” Beau said with a roll of his eyes. Lorraine said nothing but smiled and walked away to sit beside RJ.

Everyone kind of did their own thing after that; you cooked the stew for dinner, Beau got his guitar out and started picking a few tunes, and Lorraine and RJ were sitting together, whispering about something. Every now and then she would look up and meet your eyes for a moment before focusing on RJ once again.

Beau noticed, as he always did, and decided to make light of the situation. He started strumming a tune, singing horribly off key and inviting you to join. You shook your head and protested and did your best to ignore him, but how could you when he was giving you that smile? It was no wonder he had managed to pull Huck in.

You both continued to sing as terribly as possible, laughing when the coyotes started howling in harmony. He cracked open a lukewarm beer and handed it to you before grabbing one for everyone else and then himself. It was disgusting, but you couldn’t complain too much because it was about the camaraderie, not the taste. About knowing you were all just out having fun, enjoying the reprieve from the real world.

For a moment you could almost believe you were out there with Lorraine, free from the prying, judgmental eyes of the world. When you handed her a bowl of stew and her fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver down your spine and a heat in your belly. When she smiled at you while RJ and Beau were talking, as if you were the one she was with.

But then RJ would kiss her on the cheek, or wrap his arm around her, and you felt sick to your stomach. The world certainly knew how to play its sick jokes. You knew what your daddy would have to say about it. It's a temptation from the Devil himself to lust after another woman. Guilt started gnawing at your heart, piece by piece until it was beating wildly and you feared you would pass out.

“We should get some sleep,” Beau proclaimed once talk had died down. Maybe he had noticed you starting to lose every ounce of sanity you had left. You hoped he didn’t. “Plenty more fun to be had tomorrow.”

Everyone mumbled their agreements - you just stared off into the fire - before standing up and stretching. Sitting on the hard ground was always tough on the joints no matter how young you were. Once everyone started getting ready, you cleaned up and put out the fire, your mind still dwelling on the guilt your daddy continued to instill in you even from afar.

“RJ, you’re in the tent with me,” Beau said quickly. “I ain’t invokin’ the wrath of a man of god.”

He didn’t look happy about that proclamation at all, but what could he do? He had grown up a Southern man too, he knew how seriously people took such a thing. So he nodded once, grumbling an agreement before climbing into the tent with Beau hot on his heels. Beau gave you one look before zipping up the tent and leaving you alone with Lorraine.

Alone with Lorraine.

Oh god.

You took far too long gathering your things before heading to the tent. Double and triple checking that the fire was out, looking out for coyotes, checking for rattlers, making sure the food was properly put away. Only when you could no longer find anything to do did you finally venture into the tent where Lorraine was already waiting.

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw Lorraine sitting in the tent, lantern on and book in hand. She had her chin resting in one small hand as the other turned the page. Her hair fell over her face, creating a sheer curtain that you could barely see through. The tanned skin of her shoulder was bare to the world as her too-large sleep gown hung off her arm.

Just the sight of her was enough to make you want to praise the heavens, singing her gospel until God felled you from heaven himself. You would give up the very promise of heaven if it meant you could go to bed seeing her like that every night. The deepest pits of hell could not persuade you from loving her with every beat of your heart and every breath that she pulled from your lungs.

"You're starin'," Lorraine mumbled in her sleepy voice, the one you would die for.

"You're plum wore out," you said as you finally managed to get your body moving again. You zipped the tent up behind you and moved to get on the small pallet beside her.

"Long trip home," she said with a sigh. Slender fingers placed the bookmark in its spot before placing the book beside the lamp and blowing it out.

You laid down in silence, staying as still as possible so as to allow her to go where she pleased. You're acting like you've never slept with her before, your mind taunted you. And it was right, but there was a guilt that was still gnawing at your heart, chomping at the bit to devour you, body and soul.

"You ain't gonna face me?" Lorraine asked, her mouth so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," you whispered as you turned on your side and ended up face-to-face with her.

"You're thinkin' real hard tonight," she said. You couldn't really see her in the dark, but you heard shuffling before you felt her hand resting on your cheek.

It felt like the touch of god himself.

"I'm alright," you said. Part of you hoped she would believe you.

Part of you hoped she wouldn't. 

"It's just you and me tonight," she said. Her fingers scratched gently against your skin, just enough to keep you grounded.

Tonight, your mind emphasized. It was just you and her tonight. When the sun came up she would go back to RJ, and you would go back to Beau, and no one would think twice. It would be as if nothing had ever happened, as if she hadn't made you want to prostrate yourself at her altar.

"You and me," you said to yourself. If you said it enough, you could believe it.

"I don't wanna fuck tonight," Lorraine said, making you blink in the dark at her complete 180.

"You… you don't?" You asked. "May- may I ask why?"

"All I ever do is fuck," she said, her lips now brushing lightly against yours. “I want you to remind me what love feels like.”

Oh. Oh, you could do that. It was all you ever wanted to do. There wasn't a single thought in your head when you felt her lips press against yours. No thoughts as you wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her body flush against yours. She was warm and soft; she was yours.

You rolled over onto your back, gently pulling her with you until she was laying on top of you. It always amazed you how small she was, how her weight on you meant nothing as she straddled your stomach. Both of her hands made their way to your neck while yours went under her shirt and to her hips. Her skin was already slick with sweat thanks to the summer heat.

She bit your bottom lip as your hands slid up her sides, caressing every inch of skin they could find. Gentle touches until you reached the sides of her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat when one of your thumbs lightly brushed against her nipple, immediately followed by a shiver down her back.

“Don’t tease,” Lorraine mumbled against your lips. 

You hummed your acknowledgment and leaned up into another kiss, but continued to leave the lightest of touches. Brushing a knuckle against her nipple, softly kneading her flesh. Only when she was least expecting it did you do anything more, rolling a nipple between your thumb and forefinger and swallowing her moan.

The simple touch had her rolling her hips against your stomach. Even with her panties on, you could feel her arousal on your stomach. Just the knowledge that you had such an effect on her was enough to convince you that she had too many clothes on.

She whined when you removed your hands from her breasts. A needy, breathy sound that quickly disappeared when you pulled her gown up. Her lips parted from yours just long enough to get the gown over her head before she leaned down, instantly kissing you again.

Your hands rested on her hips, just tracing patterns on her skin as she continued to roll her hips. Her movements were slow, methodical. She was working herself up, not trying to get off just yet.

"Take it off," she mumbled as her hands fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. Well, it was Beau's shirt, but no one cared.

"Yes ma'am," you answered before sitting up.

Lorraine slid into your lap while her hands tugged at your shirt, attempting to assist you. But you could tell she was already too desperate, too distracted to be of any genuine help. As you pulled your shirt off, her own hands quickly replaced it, running over every inch of skin she could reach.

"I missed you," she said breathlessly. Her hands trailed from your neck down to your breasts, giving them the same teasing treatment you had given her.

"I missed you too " you answered just as breathlessly before her lips closed around one of your nipples and drew a moan out of you.

She loved to do that. She loved to interrupt your thoughts with her actions, whether it was a gentle bite here or the scratching of her nails on your back. And she did just that, biting down just hard enough to pull a gasp from you before soothing the sting with her tongue.

You let her continue for a few moments; it was one of her favourite things to do. All the while you massaged her hips, her thighs, could practically feel the heat from her core. She was still working herself up.

"Come here," you said, gently pulling her face back up to yours.

You couldn't see her in the dark but you could imagine the lust-drunk look she was giving you as you laid her down on the pallet. Both of your hands were on either side of her head, caging her in. Your thigh strategically placed itself between her legs and she took no time in rutting against it.

Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you into another kiss. One thing about Lorraine, she loved to be kissed. To taste you, feel your tongue on her lips, your lips on her skin. If you were kissing her then you loved her, and she couldn't have been more right.

"More," she said with another desperate grind against your thigh.

You lowered yourself down to your elbows before shifting your weight. Your body was tilted ever so slightly so as not to crush her while one of your hands finally made its way back down her body. If the sweat was anything to go by, you knew exactly what you would find when you slid your hand in between your thigh and her panties.

The wetness on your thigh and stomach had already told you how worked up she was, but when you actually felt how soaked her panties were, you couldn't help but sigh. She just made it so easy to tease her, to run your fingers over her so lightly that all she could do was whine and squirm.

"Stop teasin'," Lorraine whined, pulling a smile from you.

"Take these off too," you said in reply.

She had never moved so fast in her life, you reckoned. But almost within an instant she had kicked her panties off and laid bare beneath you. You wished the lantern was on so you could see her. See her kiss-swollen lips and her freckled skin, the blush on her cheeks or the almost bashful look in her eyes. You wanted to see her; all of her.

But she clearly felt you were taking too long, because she grabbed your hand and placed it exactly where she wanted it. You dipped your finger into her arousal and up to her clit once. She threw her head back with a moan at the same time as you.

"Jesus, Lorraine," you said as you bent down to kiss her neck. "You're so fuckin' wet and I barely touched you."

You could feel the vibrations of her moan against your lips as you continued to kiss down her body. Your fingers slowly circled her clit, putting the lightest amount of pressure just to keep her worked up. You kissed her collarbone, her chest, left little love bites on her breasts. Her hips rolled with your fingers as you kissed lower, across her stomach and to her hips. Extra kisses for her hips, one love bite on each before being soothed with your tongue.

"Please," Lorraine whimpered just loud enough for you to hear.

How could you say no to that?

The first swipe of your tongue already had her back arching and her fingers tangling themselves in your hair. She tasted like the nectar of heaven, something you could only ever find from her. Any semblance of self control dissipated and you dove back in like you had been parched for a thousand years.

Her hips wriggled below you with every touch on her clit. Flat broad licks always brought out the low moans from her while the quick kitten licks had her whining and her thighs shaking.

"You gotta be quiet, 'Raine," you said when you picked your head up for a moment to try and see her face.

Her fingers removed themselves from your hair before cupping your cheeks and pulling you back up. Part of you was upset you couldn't taste her anymore, but then she pulled you into another kiss. This one deep and slow. She liked your bottom lip and you quickly parted your lips, allowing her to taste herself on your tongue.

"Then keep me quiet," she said before immediately kissing you again.

She was going to be the death of you.

With your mouth now preoccupied, your fingers went back to work. Rubbing slow, wide circles on her clit to make up for the few seconds of lost contact. Lorraine sighed through her nose, the air tickling your cheek. But you were tired of teasing her. It had been too long for you to tease her all night.

You pressed two fingers against her entrance lightly, giving her time to tell you no. One of her hands left your face and grabbed your wrist, pushing you completely into her. You both moaned into each other, her at the feel of your fingers and you at how tight and warm she was.

Sometimes she liked it harder, faster, but not tonight. Tonight you went with slow, deep strokes. Every time you would pull out, you would curl your fingers just enough to hit that sweet spot that had her toes curling. Her hips rolled to meet your hand, pushing your fingers just that extra bit deeper to have her a sweaty, moaning mess below you.

You didn't stop kissing her when you moved your thumb to her clit, adding that extra sensation. Her nails dug into the back of your neck and your wrist, but you didn't care. She would bite your lip every time your fingers thrusted into her deeper than usual. She was coming completely undone.

All it took was one more circle on her clit before she came, clenching around your fingers and moaning into your mouth. You kept thrusting slowly, softly, helping her ride it out until she could gently come back down. You could feel the welts on your neck and wrist, but it didn't hurt. You stayed completely still until you could feel her body start to relax again, only then removing your fingers slowly.

"I love you," she whispered with a husky, exhausted voice. "I love you."

"I love you too, Lorraine," you whispered back before laying down beside her and pulling her until you could curl your body around her.

She interlocked her fingers with yours and pulled your hands tight to her chest. You felt her lips press kisses into each fingertip, the kisses getting slower and slower until you could feel her even breathing. Part of you wanted to laugh; she always fell asleep so quickly.

The other part was screaming. Reminding you that she wasn't yours. That come morning, she would go back with RJ like nothing had ever happened, and you would be alone again. You would never get the girl, and one day he would even take her away from you.

You closed your eyes and pulled her impossibly closer, feeling the warmth from her skin. The Texas heat was unbearable even in the dark, and it was humid and you were both sweaty. But the touch of her skin on yours was worth it. You left lingering kisses to the back of her bare neck as she continued to sleep.

"I love you, Lorraine," you whispered into the dark for no one but god to hear.

At least for now you could pretend she was yours. Just for one night.

[suniloli]

BOILING POINT p3

7 Feb 2024

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8K (dayum)

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes, crude language, description of blood and violence, angst

Setting: Prison (between s3 and 4)

Summary: It’s the next day at the prison, and you’re feeling good. However, something is said which is way over the boundary of acceptable. Is this truly it?

Author Note: Final part! And obviously who wants to read a fic of two people fighting for like 72 years? I know most readers probably wouldn’t act this way. But too bad >:) I’m thinking this might be a bit out of character for Daryl…but it amuses me so why not? I hope the carrot joke makes sense. I also hope the 'pay off' isn't rushed. (This gif is funny) -Sol

Part 1 / Part 2

Surprisingly, the next morning you were much more chipper. The sun was shining brightly through your cell curtain, and you could hear the chatter and laughter of people in the prison. Today’s gonna be a good day you smiled to yourself. 

You tried to forget yesterday. You guessed crying it all out and venting to Rick must’ve allowed your brain to finally come to the beginnings of peace, and to let go of this whole thing with Daryl. He didn’t want a relationship with you anymore. And, who cares if he wanted one anyway? It’s hurting you too much. It’s hurting you both. 

You were done. 

So, no matter what happened, today was going to be good. You could feel it. 

Normally you hated doing stuff in the garden, but today it was quite therapeutic. Bound to have some mighty tan lines with the sun beating down on your singlet-bearing skin, you fixed up your gloves. Wiping a bead of sweat from your hairline, you adjusted your sunglasses and pushed yourself up from your crouched position. Sighing contentedly, you observed the hustle and bustle of the mid-morning prison activity. 

There were plenty of people in the courtyard sitting together in groups talking and laughing, sharing in the day’s glow. You could see Carol and some other women conversing and preparing some stuff in the outdoor kitchenette. Across the other side of the grounds, Glenn was teaching a group of people some combat skills. Turning around, you looked up to the watchtowers and saw Maggie and Sasha. You reciprocated Sasha’s wave and Maggie’s smirk and turned around when you felt a presence behind you. 

“Hey Beth!” you greeted with a pat on her shoulder. 

“Hey Y/N. Bringin’ round some water to everyone.”

“Thanks,” you said, eagerly grabbing a glass and chugging it within a couple of seconds. Handing it back to Beth with a grin, you added, “What? It’s hot out.”

Giggling, she agreed and placed the tray on the ground. “I can already see the burn on your shoulders…don’t be turnin’ into a lobster now!”

Nudging her with your elbow, you feigned offence. “I tan beautifully, thank you very much.”

Your banter was interrupted by a group of people from Woodbury. A few hey’s and friendly exchanges were made, mainly between Beth and them. They were a bunch of younger teens, some of which you recognised. The one with glasses was Patrick, who you liked because he was fond of Carl. And another was Zach. He was the one giving Beth rather flirtatious glances. Cute. 

You waited until they left before speaking. “You get along pretty well with that Zach guy…” 

“Hmm?”

You smiled. “Zach. The guy who was giving you flirty eyes.”

“What?! No he wasn’t…” Beth looked down shyly. 

“Uh, yeah he was. The dude was flirting with you big time. For the record, I think it’s cute.”

“Do you think so?” Beth asked. Oh, to be a teenager with a crush again. 

“YES. FYI, we’re living in the apocalypse. So if I were you, I’d go for it. Time is truly of the essence these days…” you mused. 

“I’ll make you a deal…if I make a move, you have to too.” 

A huff of air escaped your nostrils. “With whom exactly?” You humoured. You realised what she was hinting at until it was too late. 

“Daryl of course. And for your information,” Beth paused, a cheeky expression taking over her face. “I saw the two of you that one time…behind the stables…”

“Uhhh…” 

“My window was open…” she said sheepishly. You didn’t say anything. “He likes you, I can tell — ”

“That was a mistake. What…happened…meant nothing.” You tried to divert.

“As you said, time is of the essence. You should talk to him.” You could see her deliberating something in her mind. The next second, she brought you in for a tight hug which caught you off guard. “I…heard yesterday…it ain't very nice what he said. I’m sorry…”

Slowly returning the embrace, you took a long breath. “Well, I’m over it.”

Looking up at you, she sighed and gave you the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. “Well," she began, in an attempt to lift the mood, "As long as you know that I love you Y/N, and I’ll never let you go!” She squeezed tighter around your waist. 

“Get out of here!” You laughed, trying to push her off and away from you. “Go hand out some more drinks!” Beth released a hearty laugh as she picked up the tray and headed to the other workers. 

You looked down at your half-full bucket of harvested veggies. You sighed deeply. You just couldn’t escape him.

Fuck. 

It was much closer to lunchtime when you approached the main courtyard. It was as if the people could sense that it was going to be served soon. However, as you approached, the delicious smell emanating from the kitchen space would’ve had you all antsy too if you’d been around. 

“Howdy ladies,” You drawled. “Stew smells ab-so-lutely divine. Delicious. Delectable.” Placing your yield in front of an amused Carol, you pinched a carrot and munched on it slightly obnoxiously. Receiving a look of feigned disgust from her, you were satisfied. 

“You like the letter D I see” she quipped. You hadn’t noticed someone standing by your side when you pointed your carrot to her and tried to keep a straight face. 

“I certainly do like the D. But the kind exactly like this carrot. Thick…real girthy…”

A beat of silence before Carol burst out laughing. Your laughter was getting difficult to hold. You could feel the air being held captive in your lungs as you attempted to hold your breath. Eyes still sparkling, she looked a little to your right, pointing with the utensil in her hand. 

“Like his D, I’m sure…”

You turned to see none other than Daryl, who seemed to be waiting with a pained expression. Based on his odd-looking grimace, you awkwardly assumed he’d heard everything. 

Carol…you bastard. 

You looked back to Carol, whose mischievous smirk turned slightly perplexed at his demeanour. Unbeknownst to you, Carol was thinking about her and Daryl’s conversation yesterday, and how she’d seemingly gotten through to him. She thought that you two had talked and ‘made up’. Guess not…

“Real classy, ain’t ya?” he spoke under his breath. 

You got it wrong. Today was not going to be a good day. 

As Daryl nearly threw a cut of raw meat down on the bench for its use in the stew, you attempted to keep it nonchalant. 

“Lighten up Daryl,” you smirked, pausing for a couple of seconds. He looked up at you. You couldn’t help but stir the pot. Just a little. If not for yourself, but for the reaction of your friend next to you, you told yourself. “It’s not like I’m missing out on anything,” you said sarcastically, giving Daryl’s body a once over. You were about to ignore him and continue with Carol until you heard his voice, more of a growl than an actual utterance. 

“Don’t seem like ya missin’ out on any dick lately.” 

You could sense a silence overtake the people in the kitchenette. You don’t think you’ve ever heard Daryl be that vulgar before. But, you were incensed at his insinuation. Did you hear what you thought you did?

“......What?”

Daryl went to stalk off, but you moved forward, gripped his forearm, and turned him back around harshly. 

“WHAT?” 

“Ya heard me.” He spat. You were completely baffled. You had no idea what he was talking about. You did what you could to try and remain calm. 

“What. Are you fucking on about?” you said slowly. You attempted to clench your fists at your sides to subdue the growing feeling. Your heart rate was beginning to rise. This was not good. And you still hadn’t even finished your carrot. 

Staring you up and down, he seemed to consider you. But just as the softness in his eyes was there, it quickly vanished, and in its place was something sad and bitter. 

Daryl aggressively chewed his bottom lip. “How bout’ ya just go find some desperate dick to warm ya bed.”

“Daryl!” Carol chastised. You glanced at her, at a complete loss for words. 

You were barely aware of the growing crowd of people who were wondering what the commotion was about. However, that was your last straw. You’d had it with him and his emotional back and forth. Daryl’s face was looking punchable as fuck. 

Holding back tears, it was like something possessed you. “You FUCK —”

"Y/N!" Carol yelled. Before she could stop you, you landed a beautiful left hook to Daryl’s nose. Immediately a rivulet of red poured from his nostrils. Daryl was stunned, to say the least. 

“Uugghh!” Holding his face, he removed his hands to look at them. Daryl immediately moved forward to push you. “What tha' hell Y/N?!”

Luckily for you, your adrenaline had given you ultra instincts. You didn’t even register the pain in your hand as you deflected his own. Out of pure anger, you managed to shove both of you to the ground. 

Half straddling him, you managed to lay a few good punches into his face, before Daryl realised his strength. Kneeing you in the guts, momentarily winding you, he flipped you over, and mid-flip his right hook made contact with your left eye. You could feel your eyebrow split open and felt something warm gush down your face. 

You could vaguely hear children screaming and yelling in the distance. You thought you could see a crowd of people running towards you, but you were too blinded by your hurt (and blood). The both of you got another few good hits in until it became what could only be described as a cartoonish scuffle on the ground. It would’ve been comical if not for the blood and damage you’d inflicted upon the other. 

“Fuck you, Daryl!!” You screamed. “Ooof!” Daryl had managed to pin you to the ground, holding both of your arms in place. Wiggling and squirming, you used all of your might to attempt to get out of his grip. 

Daryl, just as fuelled, looked down at you from above. Time seemed to stop. You looked pained. There was blood pooling over and into your whole left eye. He was sure he looked just as bad, if not, worse. But what made him pause was seeing tears escape and roll down the sides of your face as you cursed and screamed and writhed like a maniac. He barely registered the “fucking get off me!” you hurled at him. 

Just as he was about to loosen his grip, two sets of hands pulled him roughly away, two other people doing the same to you. 

“That’s ENOUGH!” Rick bellowed. Sasha and Maggie rushed to wave off the circle that had surrounded you. 

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Carol scolded, shocked. She tried to tend to you, but you pushed her away. 

Trying to wipe your face of the blood there, you pointed your finger at him. “You’re such a prick!” 

Daryl stayed silent with his signature steely expression, breathing heavily.

“I’m done with your shit! Whatever is fucking bothering you, you better talk, or…or you’re fucking dead to me…” He watched as a lone tear made its way down your cheek. It moved, tracing the underside of your jaw, before trickling off into the depths below. 

One second. Two seconds. Ten seconds passed. 

You sucked in a sharp breath. He thought he saw disappointment in your expression. Rick, Carol, and Glenn were glancing at each other exasperatedly. They dared not move in case you both started up again. 

“Say something for god's sake.” 

Daryl’s expression softened, however, his gaze was as piercing as ever. He wiped his nose and winced in pain as his fingers came back bloodied. He didn’t know where to start. 

You scoffed. You began to walk back towards the prison. 

“I remember tha’ night on tha' farm.” Daryl suddenly declared. Rick glanced over at Daryl with an understanding gaze, and subtly motioned with his head to Carol and Glenn to leave the two of you alone. You however stopped dead in your tracks, your back to him. “I think bout’ it all tha' time.” 

You slowly turned to look at him. He was met with your inquisitive, yet fiery gaze. 

“What’s your fucking problem then?”

Daryl saw so many pictures flash through his mind. He saw his childhood home burning to ashes, his mother inside. He saw his dad and that leather belt buckle shining in the light of the window. He was reminded of Merle, who left him all alone to bear it all on his own back, literally and figuratively. Suddenly, Merle morphed into his older form, and his insults echoed in his mind. Daryl replayed Merle dying and leaving him for good. He replayed you leaving him. 

Daryl’s shoulders sagged a bit. The more he thought about the bad things in his life, the more he was reminded of the good in it. Daryl discovered that in his redemption, Merle had truly loved him. Right now at the prison, he had a found family who cared for him, and would probably die for him. He had you. He was so lucky to have you. He never dared entertain the thought, but you’d probably die for him too. He’s the one who pushed it all away. Daryl didn’t want you to hurt him, and leave him like everyone else did. 

So, to answer your question: he was the problem. 

After a couple of seconds of contemplation, Daryl spoke quietly, but resolutely. 

“Me. Ma’ problem is me.”

“What does that even mean, Daryl? Because I’ve been trying to fix things this whole time, and you keep pushing me away!”

Daryl raised his voice. “We ain't’ ever gon’ be good anyway!”

You observed him for a long moment. You’d had deep conversations with him before. You knew of his past and he knew of yours. You knew he had it rough before the end of the world. But Daryl was a fighter. He kept on, even in hard times. Deep down, he was a shy, compassionate, and in your opinion, mistakenly self-conscious man, the latter of which you attributed to his upbringing. Knowing that you’d gotten so close, just for him to reject everything the two of you went through together made you even more frustrated. 

“So you think everything we’ve been through was for nothing then? The way that we were means nothing to you?” With slightly less fire, you added, “The things we’ve done and what you’ve said to me…you never meant any of it?”  

You could see Daryl struggling to bare himself completely. But when he looked up and into your pleading eyes, you saw the last of his defences crumble away. His next words were almost whispered in the wind. 

“I meant it. And I still mean it.”

“Then why have you been so unfair?”

“‘Cause ya just gon’ end up leavin’ me!” He admitted. Daryl abruptly moved so he was in front of you. In your periphery, you saw him raise his hand, but he moved it back down to his side again, seemingly thinking against whatever he was going to do. 

It was all so real now. Daryl pushed through his combativeness. This time, he did reach a hand up to your face, and ever so tenderly wiped the blood out of your eye from under your brow. You held back a flinch. Daryl caught it. However, he spoke his words so gently you would have never guessed that the two of you were involved in something so violent mere minutes before.

Looking at the damage he’d caused, he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame. It only spurred on his thoughts of the previous night. “I won’ ever deserve ya’ anyways with how I’ve treated ya’. You’ll be better off with Rick or some other guy —”

You shook your head in disagreement.  

“How could you have ever thought that I wanted to be around someone else? Has it not been clear this whole time how much I...like you?”

Daryl began biting his lip anxiously. It was clear to him, but deep down he refused to believe the extent to which you did. 

“I appreciate you so much, Daryl! That’s why this whole thing’s been killing me! To have someone hurt me so much when things were so good…” He felt your head slowly shake against his hand. You inhaled deeply. “I’ve never hit anyone like that before. You just...you made me so fucking angry!” You abruptly grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand away from your face, taking a step back. He saw a hurt flash in your eyes again. “How dare you just insinuate that I’m what? A slut? That I’m sleeping around?” You were pacing now. “What business is it of yours anyway?” You sassed. “You’ve been so dismissive and rude that you shouldn’t even —”

“Goddamnit woman!” Daryl exclaimed. Surprisingly, he managed to stop you in your tracks, your mouth shutting with a clink of your teeth. “I’m scared alrigh’! I’m scared that I’m gon’ mess you up! That I’ll never be good enough fer ya’...I’m…I’m scared that somehow, somethin’s gon’ happen to ya’, or somehow, ya’ gon’ be taken from ma’ life like everyone else...”

For once, you were the one with nothing to say. 

All Daryl wanted to do at that moment was give in to his desire for closeness. His desire for your touch once again. But he was still in the grips of insecurity. “And cause’ I’ve been such an asshole, ya’ve moved on and I don’ blame ya’. A-And seeing ya’ with other people…I ain't ever gonna be worth your time…” 

“Are you seriously telling me that you’re not good enough for me? Daryl, if anything…never in my wildest dreams could I have conjured up a man as good as you in my own life.” 

Etched into his face was still disbelief in your words. How many times did you need to tell him? 

“No matter how much you infuriate me and piss me off,” you started, “No matter how things are between us, I’m never going to leave you. Ever.” 

Daryl’s breath caught in his throat as he listened. He struggled to process the weight of your words. 

“Nah, nah...I don’ think ya’ —”

“I'm fuckin' in love with you Daryl!” You yelled. “Is that blatant enough? Do you get it now?” 

All he could do was look at you. Even all bruised and bloodied, even with your dishevelled hair and stressed demeanour, you were the most beautiful thing to him at that moment. Your eyes began to well up with tears. Your voice broke when you spoke next. 

“So just please tell me if you want this to end, because I can’t do this back and forth anymore —” 

Daryl purposefully strode over to you, and cut you off by grabbing your face, giving your lips a very chaste kiss. It took a couple of seconds for you to realise what was happening. When you did, your body moved into his, and you placed your hands on his sides, slowly snaking them around his back. 

This kiss became more intense. More desperate. So much more emotion and feeling was expressed in this melding of your mouths. You both had been away from each other for so long, that once you touched again, it was like you became addicted. 

“Mmmm…” you moaned against his lips. 

Before it could get too hot and heavy, Daryl breathlessly pulled away. Still cupping your face, he looked directly into your eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I didn’t sort ma’ shit out. That I caused ya’ so much pain.”

“I’m sorry too…”

“Nah…it’s ma’ fault. And ya’ still stuck around. This whole time...ya stuck around...”

You both caught your breath, staring into each other’s eyes. You missed looking into those circles of blue. You missed this feeling. 

“I love ya’ Y/N. I always will.” 

You ducked your head and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. He chased yours until both of your mouths were granting the other entry. This time, the kiss wasn’t as rough, but it was just as intense, if not even more passionate. All you could hear were the wet sounds of your tongues tasting each other. Your hand moved from his back to his shoulders, feeling the rippling muscle there. 

One of Daryl’s hands moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss still. His other made its way across your shoulder to your waist, which he gave a loving squeeze. It was like now that you’d come together again, you just couldn’t stop. 

Your little bubble of heated desire was interrupted by the sounds of…squealing? 

Roughly breaking apart from each other, you looked to Daryl who seemingly thought the same thing you did. Still gripping onto each other's bodies, you both turned your heads towards the commotion and immediately flushed with embarrassment. 

Your main family stood not too far away, hollering like idiots. There were a bunch of kids screaming, but excitedly. You were certain that you’d scared them with your brawl earlier. Now they seemed joyous. Most of the people from Woodbury just stood around and stared in shock. 

You looked down shyly and softly pushed Daryl’s body away from yours. “Asshole…” He was back to chewing his thumbnail. Some of the two things you both had in common was your stubbornness and your hate of being the centre of attention. Especially like this. 

“Finally…ain’t that a sight for sore eyes…” Rick mused. 

Carol was still a bit dazed at her two best friends beating each other up. “Leave it to them to sort it out with their fists…”

“They did more than sort it out! ” Beth laughed. 

Daryl removed his thumb from his mouth. “You might wanna get ya’ eye checked out...” he grunted, nodding to the bruising around it. 

“You might want to get your nose set back into place.” You retorted. 

For the first time in a long time, you heard one of your favourite sounds. A deep rumble escaped from Daryl’s chest. His laughter was the most beautiful music to your ears. 

You beamed at him, unable to hide your admiration. 

Today may have been shitty. You may have been bruised, battered and sore. Daryl equally so. But this moment right now wasn’t just good.

It was brilliant.

*I DO NOT give permission for my work to be used/adapted/copied in any way.*

[dizzyrobinsims]

Strange Biology- A Mother Plant Project

Hello all! I went a little wild so now we have several new items for your Sci-Fi/fantasy sims!

And yes- there is some CAS items in the works so stay tuned!

INCLUDED:

Base Game Compatible:

Ceiling Light Plant: Base game compatible! Hangs from the ceiling, emits light, and with eco living you get bonus functions!

Wall Texture: In misc categories, comes in several alien colors with a natural earthy/rocky texture. Basegame compatible.

Grass Flooring: In outdoor category, base game compatible, comes in several alien colors.

Table Light Mini Mother Bramble: Fully functional, base game compatible.

Mod Pod Light: Pod plant table light! Fully functional, base game compatible.

Mighty Mycelium Wall Decal: Base game compatible, comes in several colors.

Floor Lamp: Mini mother plant floor lamp! Base game compatible.

Vine Divider, Ground: Base Game Compatible 

Requires Packs:

Dew Collector: Fully Functional giant alien flower that works to collect water for your lot! Requires eco living for function.

Hot Spring Recolor: Requires Snowy Escape for function. A hot spring with 2 odd color waters and different moss options!

Wall Plant Light: Requires cottage living, fully functional!

Mighty Mycelium Rug: Requires Strangerville Pack, comes in several colors.

Vine Divider, Ceiling: City Living Required, needs bb.moveobjects to place because I wanted a “vines slipping through the ceiling” look.

[gyllenhaalstories]

NORTHERN LIGHTS — DETECTIVE LOKI 🌌

summary: you receive an unexpected call during detective loki's night patrol.

warnings: reader is gender neutral! fluff. 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 1600

gif credits: @/stephendorff / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i saw northern lights for the first time in my life and i needed to share this moment with det loki. thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

You heard your phone vibrate once, you ignored it. Twice, you ignored it again. On the third time, you changed your mind. You stirred yourself awake and tossed in the bed so that you turned to your nightstand, careful not to slip out of the warm bed sheets. Your arm sneaked out of its confines to grab your phone and you aimed for the Do Not Disturb option.

Despite the blinding brightness of the screen, you managed to read the contact name of the culprit. You read the text messages you received, the ones that caused you to sit up straight. Loki wrote "Wake up. Got something to show you. Xo." It was followed by "Put something on, it's cold." Finally you read: "5 minutes until I'm home."

Your heart started to race so fast that you forgot it was the middle of the night. Suddenly, your mind was juggling with a myriad of worst-case scenarios. Did something bad happen? He was on patrol tonight so anything could happen. Was David hurt? He would most likely go to the hospital if that was the case. You dragged yourself out of bed and the cold air of the room managed to wake you up for good.

David was getting worried, too, from your lack of answers. You were always so quick to reply to his text messages (sometimes too quick to his liking, he had to remind you it was okay to take time for yourself). Scenarios that sounded awfully similar to yours bombarded his already maze-like mind. He needed to shut them off. So, he decided to call you.

"Babe! Are you okay? Did someone hurt you? Oh my God, are you dead?" The more questions you asked, the less they made sense.

He chuckled, not mocking you, but rather enamoured by the way you cared so deeply about him. "I wouldn't be on the phone if I wasn't alive." He knew the silence he heard from you meant that you were rolling your eyes at his reply. And also trying not to laugh, not that you would ever admit it. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" You heard the all-too-familiar sound of police sirens going off. "What was that?!"

"Just a stupid red light."

You began to scold him, to tell him it was not funny to scare you this way. You made a point in bringing up that it was the middle of the night. You also started to lecture him that it was not very good cop who kept this town safe of him to disregard the all-mighty traffic lights, but you were cut off.

"Got dressed yet?"

You looked down at your mismatched pyjamas.

Another silence, another answer he deducted. "Take one of my coats, it's cold as fuck outside. I'm almost there. Wait for me by the door, yeah? Love ya."

And just like that, he hung up on you and you were just as confused as before. You followed his instructions and headed towards the wardrobe by the door. You pulled out one of his heavy black coats that he wore on duty. You looked down at your feet and figured that fuzzy socks, although comfortable, were not properly suited for an escapade into the cold outdoors. Your eyes scanned the floor of the wardrobe for a better option. You did find one. You smiled to yourself while you pulled it from the pile of discarded boots and shoes.

In the meantime, Loki made it home safely. He turned down the sound of the radio. He could allow himself to be irresponsible once in a while. He rectified his own thoughts, when was he not taking risks? He smirked to himself and searched through the glove compartment of his car. Finally, he turned off the engine and stepped outside the vehicle. He sat on the hood and put on his black beanie with a wince on his face. He rubbed his tattooed hands together to warm them up while he waited for your arrival.

You noticed the headlights shining through the window of the door, then disappearing completely. You figured it was your man, so you grabbed your set of keys and headed out. You thought your room was cold, it was even worse outside. You waddled your way towards David's car with the sound of his laughter greeting you. Oh, how you wished you could hear that more often.

He took in your appearance: he could barely discern your silhouette from under his coat and his boots that were one too many shoe sizes too big. "You look beautiful, my love."

You scoffed at him and, finally, you were reunited. He tapped on the spot next to him and you sat on the cold metal of the car. You wrapped your arms around his and tried to warm yourself up. "Hey."

"Hey." He turned his head and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "I saw something during patrol and I wanted to show it to you."

You frowned, trying to figure out what was so important that he needed to wake you up, and even worse, that he needed to take a break from work to share it with you.

Loki smiled at you and you noticed that his nose and cheeks were turning a pale shade of pink from the cold. "Look up at the sky."

And you did just that. You looked up and you took in the void of the night sky. It was not pitch black, there were a few lamp posts scattered around your street. It seemed pretty normal to you.

"Wait for it." Loki instructed you before you could ask him another question. He was paid to interrogate people, but you certainly had a natural talent at that. "Be patient."

You opened your mouth to tell him he had no room to speak, patience was rarely part of his vocabulary, but you stopped before speaking a word. You squinted and, slowly, small twinkling stars started to appear.

David took your hands in his, keeping them warm and close to him. He studied your face and how your features relaxed while you admired the immensity of the sky. It was beautiful, he could not tell if he had seen anything of the sort in his life. It did not matter because nothing was as beautiful as you.

It felt as though you were watching an artist paint their canvas right in front of you. Brush strokes of blue, green and purple appeared before your eyes. They danced, too, perhaps blown by the icy breeze. New shapes emerged, new hues too. You noticed a bit of pink near a cluster of stars. You had never seen anything like this before. Your jaw dropped and your lips curled up into a smile, in awe of the spectacle you were lucky enough to witness with David.

Loki felt both small and tall all at once. He felt small in front of the wonders of the sky. He felt as small as one of those tiny stars that fought so hard to light up enough to be noticed. However, you made him feel tall. You made him feel taller and stronger than everyone and everything in this world with one loving embrace or some supportive words. It was an odd mix of feelings that he welcomed with an open heart and an open mind.

You squeezed against his body, wanting to exist as one in this magical moment. You mouthed a quiet "Wow". No other word would suffice to describe this moment. You hoped David would understand that you were thankful for this night together, for all your time together. You were forever thankful to have David Loki in your life. You did not want to tell him to go back to work so the Captain would not get mad. You did not want to tell him you had to go back inside because your body was starting to freeze. The only thing you wanted was to stay right here, right there.

"I knew you'd like that." He mumbled, mostly to himself. After quite a long moment of admiring you, he glanced at the sky. What he saw left him speechless. It was even more beautiful than when he first noticed the colours behind the crescent moon, driving aimlessly around town. He did not know a thing about space, but he was certain that sharing the Northern Lights with you made them shine brighter. "Just thought of somethin'."

You, reluctantly, looked away from the colourful lights. You kissed his lips before he spoke again. "What's up?"

"Wanna look at it all night long? It's quiet tonight."

You did not think of your bed, of the warmth of your home. You did nothing think of anything else beside this opportunity to spend time with him. You would be a fool to turn down such an offer. "I'd love nothing more."

"Let's go, officer." He winked at you and you both said your quiet goodbyes to the night sky. For now, he had a plan to take you outside of town so you could get an even better view. Loki helped you to the passenger seat, he even leaned in the car to buckle your seat belt so your cold fingers would not have to deal with the struggle.

You planted a small kiss on his shaven cheek while he made sure you were safe and ready to go.

Loki turned his head to look at you and, in return, he kissed your lips softly. "I love you so fucking much. You know that, right?"

[mooseung]

୨୧ take a break

lee jooyeon (xdh)

ᨳ your boyfriend can’t stop playing five nights at freddy’s

𖧷 got bored

𖧷 fm reader but it’s not obv until the end lol

𖧷 lee jooyeon is totally the type to take this challenge i pray he never finds out about custom night

your boyfriend has gotten 3 hours of the sleep in the past four days of his life. he’s trying to beat 20/20/20/20 mode in five nights at freddy’s, and it’s quite possibly the worst quest he could’ve given himself this summer.

it’s the first game of the series and, if you’re being honest, the most boring one he could’ve chosen. you’d rather him spend time with the sequel (the best game in the franchise) than this mundane one, but you respect his love for the classics. he’s been dying to brag about having a badge tied to the original and iconic game. jooyeon dreams of rubbing a shiny medal in jiseok’s face; apparently that guy found a loophole to cheat his way through the night which led him to obtain his glitched achievement. jooyeon just wants to exhibit his skills the old-fashioned way.

you were supportive for a while, but soon enough things started to get lonely. you’d let yourself into his dorm and sit in the corner watching his attempts. you did your homework, studied for exams, doom-scrolled on all four relevant social media apps. his franticness wasn’t appealing to watch either. stress kept causing his bloodshot brown eyes to squeeze shut, his hands becoming pure veins after gripping onto the mouse for hours on end. you even noticed how dwindling patience ate his skin in a desperate attempt to remain present. your boyfriend is losing sanity to this. you suddenly wish he hadn’t finished the semester early so he would have something better to do.

“jooyeon…baby…”

you carefully speak as he sulks, staring at the start screen he was brought back to. he eventually hums in response, evidently defeated.

“let’s take a break.” you think for a moment. “we should have quick picnic!”

jooyeon can’t seem to remember what the outdoors looks like, yet he remembers when he pictures you there. the boy loves picnics with you; they’re known for relieving stress when the both of you inevitably hit rock bottom during tough semesters. he’d find himself to be a monster if he refuses, being no better than the purple guy. the offer is given like a beam of light to his pale state. with his head fallen, he nods. you’re unable to see the soft, relieved smile cradling his face.

an hour later and you both find yourselves outside. he immediately finds comfort in everything, from the way the wind brushes his long hair behind him gently to the way the sun warms his cold skin back to honey. you fill him in how your classes have been treating you recently, and he tells you funny stories about his life since he gets the feeling you’re not interested in the strategies he has learned in recent days. it’s okay; this is the calmest he thinks he’s ever been.

eventually your bodies fall flat on the blanket, eyes scanning the array of colorful clouds above the sunset. occasionally, someone would pipe out what they’d see in those unique shapes in the sky. you point, “that’s a dog, for sure.”

he giggles, shifting his position as he searches for another one. it’s difficult. they all look like freddy fazbear.

“this game is starting to rot my brain.”

“they’re all freddy?” you ask.

he shrieks and nods, shielding his heated face in embarrassment. the two of you laugh in harmony and you playfully push him a little.

“you don’t have to beat the challenge…unless jiseok promised you some money…”

he sighs and shakes his head. “i just wanna achieve something. i wanna put hard work into something and then go around all high and mighty with my authentic medal, y’know?”

you reach for his sore hand, intertwining your fingers with his as the two of you continue to gaze at the pink sky above.

it’s beautiful, and when he turns to his side, you’re beautiful. everything about this setting is relaxing jooyeon, like not everything is about left light - right light - open camera to check on foxy - repeat. he’s instead thinking about how lucky he is to have something else to brag about: you. and before he could even express these feelings out loud, you bring up some advice.

“whenever i’m stuck on something, i get better with the more breaks i get in between attempts. i think playing back to back makes you more frustrated and the run can get sloppy, BUT if you take more breaks you can be way more precise!” you turn to him, shining him a smile. “but that’s what i think. everyone’s different. i just brought you out because i missed you.”

jooyeon laughs at you and the wisdom you always brought, “i missed you too. i’ll be sure to focus on you more.” he shifts himself one last time, looking back at the sky as your body curls to cuddle him with a perfect fit. “this is more our element anyways.”

the two of you finally relax in one another’s embrace, occasionally snacking and shooting sappy flirts to one another. your hands are still intertwined, and none of you plan on letting go any time soon.

jooyeon grabs his phone for a second, swiftly texting with one hand. he sends this message to jiseok.

i may not have beaten 4/20 mode yet but at least i have the best girlfriend ever !!!

jiseok responds,

that’s one more than i have rn so

you got me there 🙄

𖧷 do u guys wanna see what was in the drafts before this

[icycoldninja]

I actually didn’t expect you to do my request ( the Van Helsing one ) since I’m used to my request being ignored but I’m thankful nevertheless

Can you make a headcanon of the DMC men with a reader who is basically the daughter of Loki, the bastard offspring of the Jotunn.

She’s a deity who is forsaken by the other gods, including her father due to her grotesque form. In order to be accepted, she wears a disguise of a woman but her real form looks somewhat like this and the reason for her disguise is that she herself detest that form because that’s the reason of her father’s abandonment and she fears that anyone close to her would leave the same way he did when they found out who she truly is.

She’s a deity who guards the Norwegian forest and basically turn anyone into a “Twitter hashtag” if they do not respect nature, take more than what’s given and skim through their subconscious to find they’d done bad deed

( Her abilities and appearance based on the 2017 The Ritual’s Moder )

Bro, I'd never ignore a request, even if I had to turn it down, I'd still say something. Here you go and enjoy! 💜💜

Sparda boys + V x daughter of Loki!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Your human disguise captivated Dante; it was more beautiful than any woman he'd ever seen.

-When he saw your true nature, and how you'd been shunned for it, he immediately walked over, threw his arms around your neck, and told you he still loved you no matter what you looked like.

-He tells you that there's no need to feel ashamed of your abilities, and that your dad abandoned you cause he was a jerk, not because of anything you did. You are amazing person, with supernatural powers that you should be proud of.

-He honestly found it kinda cool that you guarded forests and destroy those who disrespect nature and commit evil deeds. It's what he would do if he were a mighty, magical deity.

-He considers moving to Norway to be closer to you, but he first has to figure out how to relocate Devil May Cry.

-Really, really, really wants to ride on your back but is worried your spine will break or will poke him in places he shouldn't be poked in.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil was impressed when he saw your true form, as it was a testament of your POWER.

-He was astounded when you told him your father abandoned you and that you had been shamed for your true nature. Why would anyone do that? Vergil was sure you had to have been the coolest deity in heaven--there is absolutely no reason for you to resent your true self.

-He motivates you to accept who you are, but he won't stop you from using your human disguise because it is quite beautiful.

-Spends more time outdoors, specifically in the forest, because he knows you guard them.

-He has nothing to say about what you do to those who disrespect the forest or commit bad deeds because he simply doesn't care, but wonders if you would use these powers to kill demons.

-He can feel it when you scan his mind and decides to mentally tell you he loves you whenever you do.

□ Nero □

-Nero saw your human form and was enthralled; you're the hottest chick he'd ever met.

-Then he saw your true form, and was absolutely terrified, which is understandable considering his girlfriend just morphed and changed into a monster straight out of a horror movie before his eyes.

-It takes him a moment, but then he pulls himself together and reminds himself that you are still you and...hey...this whole monster thing is starting to work for him.

-He's sorry to hear how you were treated because of your lineage and abilities, and promises to not let you feel that way about yourself again.

-He is proud of you and what you do, taking the time to head to the forests to visit you whenever he can.

-He also constantly reminds you that you are worth more than the world and that you are an amazing deity whom he will always love, even if you're a scary monster.

● V ●

-V was attracted to you, though not because of your human disguise. It was because of something else.

-You just captivated him, for no discernable reason. This reason was soon unveiled when you revealed your true and terrifying self to him.

-Though some might be disgusted or even frightened, V was amazed, charmed; bewitched. He'd never seen anything like this and he loved it.

-V can't take his eyes off you, his hungry gaze searching over you, memorizing each and every detail. He's going to write so many poems about you.

-He loves you and wants you to know you were cast out for a ridiculous reason. You are incredible; you always will be, and you should be proud of who you are.

-Makes sure to tell you that every chance he gets, either through poetry, his own words, or both.