#also I didn’t have time to go for a walk to the horses today :( (this might be part of why soup yes) but tomorrow!!!!!

[jorvikzelda]

thinking about writing 🧑‍💻🥰📑💕✏️♥️❤️✍️💖💖💗🐴

actually writing 🧑‍💻😢😔☹️📝😩😣✍️🤔💭🤨✏️🧐🐴

[vividxpages]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ "in the dead of night"･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧*

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 7000

summary: when Jace is attending a late council meeting, two hired assassins take their chance to sneak into your chambers and hold you captive. Taken to the dragon caves below and meant to be slain by your own betrothed’s dragon, you have to trust the bond between Vermax and you is strong enough to escape your captor’s murderous plans.

warnings: soft!reader, fluffy start but HEAVY angst (reader being held captive by two assassins similar to Blood and Cheese), physical violence (slapping, hair pulling), verbal abuse, threats of rape and violence, Vermax being Vermax and also protective of reader, hurt/comfort, shock and crying, Jacaerys being a caring betrothed, Rhaenyra being the best mother in law, aftermath of trauma, healing, hopeful ending

a/n: please mind the warnings for this story, it’s my angstiest so far! Big thanks to @princessvelaryon and @princesschimchim1325 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You smiled to yourself as you held two small wooden figures in your hands, a princess and a prince, their hands linked together and small attires made of cotton and wool. When you were younger, you remembered playing with them for hours, creating little scenarios of the prince who might sweep you off your feet someday.

Now, many years later, you had found the love of your life in Prince Jacaerys.

Ever since your own parents had died too young, Jace’s family had welcomed you as if you were one of them by blood, making you a home at Dragonstone and accepting you with open arms as theirs. Perhaps, a huge part of it was because Rhaenyra’s oldest son had been in love with you ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but there was more to it. His mother adored you and you got alone with his siblings and cousins and brought a joy into their house that was much needed in those dark times of war.

This afternoon, you were sitting on the soft fur carpet in one of the big living rooms of the castle, Rhaenyra’s twins peacefully playing with their wooden toys all around you. Earlier, Baela and Rhaena had joined you for a chat and the newest gossip, but you didn’t mind being alone with the kids as well, your own inner child always coming down around their soft souls.

You let out a playful gasp as little Viserys assembled a row of knights on their horses along the imaginary street you had built together. “Are your noble knights going to a tournament, Vis?”

The boy nodded timidly at you, letting one of the horses gallop forward and making you laugh.

Your betrothed Jacaerys leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly as he watched you. Little Aegon had snuggled close to you and you helped Viserys move the toy carriage around the carpet.

You looked up as he pushed himself off the frame, walking towards you with pure adoration in his eyes. “Oh hello. I didn’t hear you enter.” You said, letting your hand be lifted by him so he could press a soft kiss against your knuckles.

Moving to stand and placing Aegon on the ground, he laid a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt your play. What adventures is my princess going on today? Have my brothers been behaving?”

“They are the sweetest.” You told him in all honesty, your heart melting at the two little blond boys in front of you. Whenever you spent time with Jace’s smaller siblings, you could not help but notice how your heart expanded and spoke to a deep part in you that wished for children of your own someday. “We were playing a carriage ride to a tournament, I believe, but then a dragon escaped and now we have to look for him.”

Jace squatted down for a moment and handed Aegon a rattle shaped like the bell of a sept, which he immediately took with a toothless grin and tried out. You watched your betrothed with a soft heart and thought what a wonderful father he’d make…

“I dream of the day this will be our life someday.” He confessed to you, the corner of his plump lips lifting sadly. “When there is peace in the realm and we have time to take care of our future children together.”

“I wish for nothing else.” You replied softly, your heart blooming with love for him.

For a moment, Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to sit down and join you and his little brothers, but as you knew your hard-working betrothed all too well, he sighed and stood up again, careful not to step on the big skirts draped around you like a blooming flower.

“There will be a late council meeting this evening.” Jacaerys announced to you, his displeased expression betraying him. “Everyone of the council and the dragon keepers will sit together to discuss. I wouldn’t ask you to join us, it will be very boring and entirely unnecessary.”

You chuckled, knowing all too well how different Jace would do many things if his say in the matters of his mother would be of more weight. But at the same time, you were glad, Rhaenyra kept him sheltered and protected with you for now, at Dragonstone where it was the safest place for the future king and his queen.

“Will you come to bed later?” You asked shyly, although it was not uncommon for the prince and you to share a bed before your marriage had even been consummated.

A small and narrow passage connected your room to Jacaerys’ and you had often made use of it, whether you wanted someone to talk to before heading to bed or were in need of his warm embrace before you eventually drifted off into an innocent sleep together. When he was gone or bound to duties, you usually made yourself comfortable in his bed, but perhaps you’d return to your own tonight if the meeting was going to take a while before he’d be released.

Jacaerys smiled softly at you and nodded before he raised your hand towards his lips. “I will. Don’t stay up too late, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”

You hummed pleased and let him kiss your knuckles. “I hope it won’t be too long. And don’t take their words to heart too much, Jace. You’re the prince and they’re lucky to have you.”

“It is me who is lucky to have you, my beloved.” He said and watched in delight as you blushed at his appreciation. “My safe haven, my light.”

Jacaerys leaned down, softly cupping your cheek before he gently kissed your lips, your back arching a little to reach him better. Your lips brushed tenderly against one another and you sighed in bliss at his open affections for you.

You smiled at him when you separated, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you.I’ll do my best to hurry.” He promised, hugging his little toddler brothers as well and softly stroking their hair before he departed. You sighed to yourself, eager to have the hours pass and let the two of you be reunited again as little Aegon presented you a wood dragon, silently asking you to rejoin their play..

“Alright, where were we, my princes?”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Being alone in your private chambers had become a rarity since you had been promised to Jacaerys.

You listened to the quietness of the room, the fire cackling in the pit as you sat on your bed and combed out your hair. You had taken a bath after bringing the princes to their nurseries and changed into something comfortable for the night.

The small evidence of Jace’s frequent visits to your room were visible all over the place. A cloak of his was thrown over one of your chairs by the fire and one of his books laid open by your desk. Even his smell still faintly clung to your pillows, a little gift from the last time he had fallen asleep here, not bothering to retreat back to his own chamber under your soft and lingering touches to his hair.

You could not even remember the last time the connecting door between your rooms had been closed.

You let out a small sigh as you sunk into bed, watching the dark outside of your window for a while. The council meeting must’ve been going on for a while now and you tried to read a few pages to keep you awake, not wanting to miss the moment Jace would come to you.

The time went by and your eyelids kept dropping.

But after a while, the door to your chamber opened and a wide smile split your face as you sat up in your bed, ready to welcome Jace back. Your hair fell over your shoulders, the blanket slipping down your body a little, but just a second later, everything in you froze to a stop.

Two men entered your room, their clothes dirty and faces dark as they took you in. These weren’t your guards and as one of them unsheathed a blade from his belt, you opened your mouth to scream.

They were on you in a heartbeat.

One of them drew the blankets off the bed while the other grabbed your hair, dragging you from the mattress and onto the floor, every sound in your throat seizing up and choked off by their sudden display of violence.

You were not a fighter, never had been. You stood no chance as they manhandled you in their middle, the taller one quickly looking over his shoulder as you struggled to no use against their tight grip.

“Look at that.” You heard close to your ear, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “The bastard prince’s little bird, right between us. What would your man say now if he could see you like this, huh?”

You whimpered when your head was tugged back, the other gripping your wrists and making quick work of a tight rope around them, scratching over your soft skin and successfully binding you.

“Who are you?” You demanded to know, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You were shaking from head to toe, your body and mind gone into overdrive when they had first laid hands on you.

They shared a grin with each other. “Does it matter? All you have to know is we’re not your fucking maids. And that you will die tonight, princess. Now be a good girl and shut the fuck up.”

You tried to press your heels into the floor, to keep them from stirring you towards the door, but after a moment the tall one simply picked you up and carried you towards the door. Your nails scratched over the man’s back, but it was like he didn’t even feel it, his grip around your legs too tight for you to struggle and free yourself.

“Behave.”

You were set on your feet again, crowded by them against the door. You swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering between the two of them. “Whoever paid you, their reward is not nearly enough for the misery my family will bring down on you when they find you. I am a princess of Dragonstone and you have no right to-“

They pushed you out of the door, not bothering to listen.

A horrified gasp escaped your lips as you stepped outside your chamber and nearly stumbled over the dead bodies of your two guards, bleeding out and cold on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall and before you knew what was happening, your head was pulled back by your hair and a hard hand slapped you across the face.

Pain exploded in your mind, blinding you for a moment before the sting ebbed away and was replaced with a dull throb in your cheek.

You held the palm of your trembling hand to your throbbing cheek, breathing hard as you recovered from the blow. “You will die for this.” You said oddly calm and collected. It had to be the shock, you could not think clearly, but you knew one thing for sure: “The prince will cut your hands off for laying hand on me.”

The tall one grinned as if it was an empty threat. “We will be long gone once your prince finds you, stupid cunt. And in what state that will be, I still have to decide.” His disgusting hungry gaze crept over your body, barely hidden underneath your thin sleeping gown. You wanted to throw up.

“You will lead us to the place where the dragons are.” The shorter one said. “We know the keepers are all at the meeting and you know ways where no guards keep patrol. And if you dare to scream or run to wake anyone, I’ll cut out your tongue and heart and throw it in front of the bastard prince’s feet.”

You swallowed down bitter tears, your head screaming at you to do something, anything. But your hands were painfully tied and you did not find your voice as you slowly began to walk with them through the castle.

In the past, you have had nightmares like this, terrible visions of you being powerless as hands held you down in the dark, doing horrible things to you. You sometimes had woken up screaming, but Jacaerys had been there for you every time, holding you until the worst of it was over and you slowly were able to calm down in his safe and warm embrace. Now, there was no one, all people living and working at Dragonstone either asleep or summoned by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys for the council meeting. By the time someone had discovered the corpses of your guards in front of your chambers, you’d likely be dead or taken to who knew where.

You walked through your home, shivering against the cool air with only the thin nightdress you wore on you, the dangerous presence of your captors behind your back. You knew Jacaerys would blame himself for leaving you alone and suddenly, a sorrow so consuming filled your chest, you choked on a quiet whimper. You had not even said goodbye…

“Shut the fuck up.” They hissed at you and one of them slung his arm around your waist, your fingers digging into his flesh in protest as cool metal suddenly rested against your ribcage. A dagger. “Be fucking quiet and keep walking.”

Soon, the air began to smell of salt and sea and you heard the distant crashing of the waves against the island. The entrance to the dragon caves came into sight and you turned around to face them.

“Now tell us, girl, where is your precious dragon?”

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, but before you could open your mouth for a reply, the other one of them shook his head. “No. Don’t be stupid. The beast will kill us right away if it sees their rider in our clutches. But…the bastard’s dragon. It’s a foul ill-tempered beast, isn’t it? Where is it?”

Vermax.

A protective wave washed through you and for a moment, you regained the little confidence you had before the man had laid his hand on you. “What do you want with the dragon? You are in no state to have a chance at killing him.”

They shared a look, both grinning viciously. One of them stepped up to you and touched your chin with his dirty hand, right where a fresh bruise from his violence bloomed. You tried to flinch away, but he held you close.

“We don’t mean to kill it, flower.” He told you, bloodthirst flickering over his features and making you sick. His knuckles brushed over the cut on your lip and you wanted to gag from disgust. “We’re going to watch as it kills you.”

Your mind was swimming as you led them through the darkness, watching their big shadows looming over your small own. The taller one still held his dagger against your waist and you knew he’d make use of it if he noticed you playing any games. There were wild beasts slumbering in the depths of these caves, but would they be faster at attacking your captors than the knife against your skin?

The hope in your chest thinned the further away you walked with them from where you knew your own dragon slept, but one last shimmer of it remained in you. You knew Vermax and he knew you just as Jacaerys did. You had to hold on to that.

“It’s here.” You announced quietly, your whisper echoing across the cave near the ocean. It was quiet here and you had to squint your eyes to make out the big nest at the end of the cave where a green-scaled dragon slept fitfully.

“Call it.” The smaller one muttered, his eyes fixed on the beast. You winced as the tip of the dagger pressed into your skin, a warning. “We will stand behind you and when it has come out, you will command it to kill you, you hear me? No tricks or I’ll gladly be the one to end your suffering, right after my friend here has had his fun with you, princess.”

You took a deep breath as they retreated into a safe distance.

„Naejot Māzīs, Vermax.“ You commanded shakingly and the sound of your familiar voice, the big pile of green and red in the corner of the cage moved, uncurling himself from his light slumber.

Jacaerys’ dragon blinked at you sleepily, a shudder going through his beautiful scales as he tilted his head to the side questioningly. When he spotted the two men in your company, he tensed, stepping forward and showing himself in his full height.

“Lykirī…“ You lifted your hands, trying to catch Vermax’ eyes again so he’d look at you instead of them.

With a low growl in his throat, he settled, stepping closer to you until his snout almost touched your outstretched hand.

“Say it, girl!” You heard the commanding voice behind you, in a safe distance of the beast that slowly blinked at you, considering. “We’re not going to wait much longer!”

You took a deep breath and looked Vermax in the snake-like eyes.

He met you with a calm stare, tilting his head to the side again, a deep rumble in his chest.

You had to trust in him now. You had to trust in the love Jacaerys and you were sharing and the bond between you and the dragons.

Out of the sudden, a heavy thrown stone hit you in the back and you gasped in pain, stumbling forward and almost slipping in a dirty puddle.

“DO IT!”

Trust in Vermax, just as you trust in your Jace.

“Dracarys.” You whispered finally and closed your eyes.

Vermax surged forward with a furious roar, one sharp claw in the ground, his wing shielding you from the scenery. Nearly pushing you out of the way, he advanced on the men who had threatened you with a snarl and warmth filled the large cave, fire burning low in his green-scaled stomach.

A horrible realization flickered over their faces as the green beast drew closer, their backs hitting the wall behind them as they looked at you one last time. “You fucking cunt-“

Vermax wiped out their miserable existence with one single breath of fire. Heat tore through the cave and you stumbled backwards as the dragon fire burned them and the scent of roasted human flesh reached your nose.

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands as you listened to their screams. Their agony bounced off the stone walls and heat crept down your spine, but Vermax kept you close, the leathery feel of his wing a small comfort against your skin.

Suddenly, silence rang in your ears.

You dared to peek up over the protective curl of Vermax’ wings.

Where your captors had stood, only ashes and bones remained.

Vermax let out a self-satisfied growl, clearly pleased with what he had unleashed on the terrors. He bent down, blinking at you with his sharp eyes as if to make sure you were alright. Tears, both from the shock and gratitude, filled your eyes and you leaned your forehead against his snout, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.

You shrunk back as you heard footsteps in the caves, hurried steps running over gravel and through the water puddles, a flame throwing a long shadow over the walls. You felt Vermax tense, his wing drawing itself tighter around you. Any other threat advancing, he’d burn to the ground.

In the next moment, Jacaerys stormed into the chamber, his sword drawn as his other hand held a lit torch. His chest was heaving, sweat gathering at his hairline as he quickly took in the state of the room. He looked like he had run the length of the castle and you knew it likely had been the case.

Vermax snarled without threat, greeting his rider and lifting his wing to present you to your love.

Your eyes met and you let out a shuddering breath.

The sight of you was a thousand daggers to his heart.

Your face was smeared with soot and the blood from your split lip coated your chin, your hair unruly and disheveled from the way they had grabbed and dragged you along. Your silk dress was dirty and you shivered against the cold of the cave as you slung your bruised arms around yourself.

Behind you, Vermax hovered like a protective shadow and waited, willing to serve with Jacaerys now here with you.

As he took a step towards you, his boot made contact with the skulls of the assassins. Two of them, he realized and the rage surging through his veins was all-consuming. He looked down at their bones and wished to go back in time to kill them himself, over and over again until not even these mortal remains stayed behind.

But his own bloodlust vanished as he raced towards you, your own legs unsteady and finally giving out under you just as he reached you.

He fell to the ground with you in his arms, holding you tightly as you clawed your hand in his clothes, his heart breaking for you right underneath your tight grip. It was like any last strength in you had left, leaving you a broken and sobbing mess in his embrace.

“You’re safe, you’re safe…” Jace murmured into your ear, softly swaying you back and forth as you wept, the adrenaline and shock from the situation finally crashing down on you with full force. “Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here…”

The Queen and the dragon keepers found the prince and his princess just like this.

Jacaerys was kneeling on the ground, the princess dissolved in tears in his arms and the ill-tempered beast that had saved his love curled around them, chortling comfortingly as the prince stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You had been escorted back to the castle, but you couldn’t say you remembered much from the journey. Your mind had gone into an odd state of survival, the girl from before the attack having retreated into a far corner of your mind.

The guards, now dead because of you, had been carried away in front of your door and you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, not able to go another step as you stared at the spot where maids were now scrubbing the blood from the floor.

“Come on, my dear.” Rhaenyra had gently told you and you tore your eyes away from the scene as your Queen and Jacaerys led you into his chambers instead. The warmth and unique scent of Jace’s quarters – the smell of old parchment and books, mingled with the wax of the candles and the smell of his sheets – enveloped you and you drew the cloak Jace had draped over your shivering form tightly around you.

Now, a little later, you were seated at Jace’s work table and blankly stared at your scraped hands in your lap.

Jacaerys had instantly expressed his dislike for an interrogation at this hour of the night, but you had shaken your head, willing to recount the situation to Rhaenyra as if words could wash away the poison they had brought onto you. Your skin felt coated with it and you feared the stain might never go away again.

Yet, you had told her and Jace what happened, slowly and quietly, and when you were done, Rhaenyra was holding your hand and Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to break something.

“My brave girl.” Rhaenyra murmured and softly cupped your cheek as she looked at the bruises on your face and neck. “You’ve fought enough for tonight, darling. I’ll call the maids and healers and-“

“No.” You cut her off, shivering at the prospect of unfamiliar hands on you, seeing the evidence of what had happened on your naked skin. You swallowed hard, your eyes filling with unshed tears again. “No one else. It’s- it’s alright, I can do it myself, I really can-“

Rhaenyra smiled sadly at you. “You are hurt, my dear.”

“I’m not broken.” You insisted, although you felt like it. You were shattered pieces on the ground.

“And no one says so, dear.”

Jacaerys, sensing you were on the verge of breaking down, knelt down next to your chair and caught your gaze with his. “I can help, if you want.” He offered quietly.

You looked back at him, conflicted. If Jace stayed, there’d come the point where he’d see the damage you had taken and you did not know what troubled you more; him seeing you like this or seeing him as his heart shattered for you.

“Jace.” Rhaenyra looked at him. “Perhaps a woman’s presence at this time is better suited for her. I’ll fetch you later, I promise, but she needs a moment for herself now, alright?”

He was tense, your beloved prince, but after a moment he nodded with a set jaw before he stood and looked at you one more time. “I’ll wait outside.”

You didn’t want to meet his sad expression, so you kept your gaze down as mother and son went to the door, talking in quick and hushed voices before Jace stepped outside and Rhaenyra returned to you.

She leaned down and brushed a little bit of soot from your cheeks, careful not to touch your split lip. “Vermax surely knows how to rain down fire on our enemies, hm?”

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “He saved me. He knew exactly what was going on the moment I entered and he was intelligent enough to play along until the right moment had come.”

Rhaenyra hummed, offering you a hand to stand up. “And still, they only call my son’s dragon ill-tempered. How does a bath sound? I’m sure you’d like to step into more comfortable clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, longing for a simple cotton shirt, preferably one of Jace’s that smelled like home and warmth and safety.

Your future mother-in-law went to the big bath next to Jace’s bedroom with you, a steaming bath already having been drawn for you.

When you saw her drawing a stool close to the tub, your eyes widened and you were quick to interject: “I-I can do it myself, Your Grace, there is no need for you to-“

“Please let me help you just as I would help any other child of mine.” She interrupted you kindly and soon after, you gratefully sunk into the bath, your sore muscles relaxing in its warmth.

Rhaenyra helped you tilt your head back and you closed your eyes as warm water flowed over your hair and down your neck, tears of your own silently running down your damp cheeks. Your throat bobbed painfully as you let her work, the Queen’s gentle hands a mother’s comfort as they helped to get rid of the dirt from the caves and a root clinging to your skin.

“I have sent Jace to fetch an ointment for your bruises and cuts.” She told you quietly and you nodded silently, cupping some of your water to rinse off your face, careful not to touch your throbbing lip. “I want you to tell me if I should send him away for the night. You can be honest with me, dear.”

You sniffled, gladly accepting the towel she lent you after helping you out of the bathtub. After a moment, you rasped: “It is not him I am scared of. It’s just…I know it pains him to see me hurt.”

“He hurts because he hasn’t been there for you, my dear.” Rhaenyra explained softly and you sighed to yourself as you slipped into a silken robe, the fabric easy on the big bruise on your back and arms. Underneath, you already wore one of Jace’s long shirts, the fabric more of a dress on you. “If it is one thing I have learned, as someone who loves and is lucky enough to be loved, it’s that healing means accepting the help of others. No one will fault you if you want to be for yourself tonight, but I know Jace will do anything he can to help you recover from this, no matter what that might look like.”

You did not want to be alone.

You feared it, laying down in bed once again when the door could open at any moment and reveal the terrors, although Jacaerys had doubled the amount of guards outside his door, simply so you’d feel safe.

You wanted to feel sheltered and able to move past this with the one you loved more than anything else, the one who had first thought about when your life had been in grave danger.

You needed Jacaerys.

“Jace may come in again.” You said quietly, suppressing the urge to groan with every step. You had not seen it yet, but the pain the stone thrown to your back caused felt like a flare and you were sure the spot was already turning a deep shade of purple.

Rhaenyra led you towards Jace’s bed, seemingly pleased with your decision. “I’ll make my leave then. Sleep in tomorrow, the both of you. You need all the rest you can get.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You squeezed her hand in yours, bowing your head in gratitude. “And thank you for helping me.”

She smiled at you one last time, although there was a strain to it, her worry over a sneak attack like this consuming her mind. Tomorrow they’d speak about this in council, but tonight she’d let her son do the rest, his wide eyes meeting hers when she opened the door and let him in.

You turned around to look at him, your damp hair falling over your shoulder and his clothes, a princess despite the cuts and bruises on your skin. Jacaerys slowly walked to you and your heart stung when you noticed his blood-shot eyes and how pale he still was. He was tense all over, yet he softened as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly, looking for your honesty and not a false promise towards him.

You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him.

For a moment, you simply stood in front of each other, forehead against forehead and breathing each other in. Hot tears welled up in your shut eyes, his closeness rescuing and suffocating you at once. Jace’s nose touched yours and his soft curls tickled your cheeks and for a second, you thought that everything might be alright again when the morning came.

“My back. My cheek and wrists…” You whispered, your breath tickling his lips. “I know I’ve bathed and changed and I’m safe in your rooms, but…it feels like they’ve put me apart and I’ve been assembled back together wrongly.”

He shook his head, swallowing against his own lump in his throat. “You could never be wrong, my love.”

Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously, only doubling the pain in the cut grazing it. “I’ve been so scared, Jace. When they entered my room- Anything could’ve happened, they could’ve done anything to me-“

You gasped both in relief and sorrow as his arms pulled you against him, the hug both grounding and warm, something you thought you’d lost forever mere hours ago. You were too exhausted to cry once more, but the horror over what else could’ve been done to you shook you to your very core.

“I’m never going to let something like this happen again.” Jace promised you darkly as he tightened his arms around you, soothingly brushing his hand through your hair as you rested the unwounded side of your face against his heart. “You will never have to be afraid again, I promise. I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped them-“

“You didn’t know they were here.” You reminded him, but you could feel the fury radiating off his body, an all-consuming rage deeply rooted in him. “No one did. No one is to blame except for the ones who sent them, Jace.”

“And they will pay.” You could practically feel the daggers he was glaring at the wall behind you. But just after a moment, you felt his anger deflate as he softly kissed the top of your head and gently lifted your chin so he could look at you. “You’ve been fighting all alone tonight, but I am here now and I want to be of use, beloved. Will you let me help?”

“I don’t want to upset you.” You almost bit your lip before you remembered the pain.

His gaze softened endlessly and he tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear. There were lots of tangled emotions inside of him still, but he saw you, this sweet delicate girl he had fallen for ever since the beginning and knew he had to take care of you now. “You could never upset me, my beautiful strong princess.”

The words were mending on your shaken soul and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before you let him to his work.

“The maester said the salve might be a little cool on the skin.” Jace murmured and you nodded in understanding. “And he gave me ice, scratched from the old side of the island’s cliffs, for your cheek.”

You took the dripping bundle from his hand, sighing as the cold cloth touched your cheek, the swelling subtle so far yet inevitable to strengthen throughout the night. But every bruise and cut on your body was better than not living to see the sun rise in the morning. “I could apply the salve on my own?”

Jace shook his head. “Let me do this for you.”

He walked with you to his bed, helping you sit down as he knelt before you, devotion shimmering in his eyes. You realized that he needed this just as much as you did, to prove himself he was able to take care of you now, even if he had not been there for you then.

He cupped your healthy cheek as you covered the other one with your ice. “Should we start with your back?”

Jace helped you lift the fabric, only so much so he could see where the stone had struck you, a dull bruise blossoming right next to your spine. It was nothing he had not yet seen so far, still you felt self-conscious under his attentive eyes.

You held very still as Jacaerys began to carefully apply the ointment to the bruise, his finger drawing soft and soothing circles over the blue spot. His other hand touched your waist, just barely underneath the fabric of his shirt on you and you closed your eyes as the cooling sensation drew a little pain from you and let it vanish.

“Good?”

“Feels good…” You murmured and tried to crawl into the feeling, the tiny relief washing away a little of the darkness from before. With a small kiss to your nape, he let the shirt fall and cover you again.

Next came your sore wrists. He lifted both of them, seeing the red marks where the tight rope had cut into your skin and swallowing hard. He wanted to unleash Vermax on the dusty bones of your captors again until their remains were annihilated from this earth. Jace softly kissed both of them before he dipped his fingers into the small jar again and repeated his careful motions.

You made a small sound in your throat and he stopped instantly.

“Too hard?”

You shook your head. “My lip…”

He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping underneath his weight and bringing you closer to him. The cut wasn’t pretty, but no cut was and you did not shy away from him as he took in the damage, one of his hands still rubbing circles into your wrist.

You held your breath as his coated thumb touched your bottom lip, his touch light as a feather as the cooling salve instantly mended the throbbing. Your hand reached up to hold his wrist, not ready yet to let him go when his touch felt infinitely good for your aching body. There was nothing sexual about the way you breathed against the pad of his thumb, relishing his care and simply letting it wash over you, and for a while you were simply content like this, Jacaerys remaining close to you as you breathed through the slowly ebbing pain.

“Do you want me to braid your hair for the night?” He asked quietly like he had so many times before.

Your wonderful beloved Jace. You nodded gratefully as he shuffled once more on the bed and sat behind you. Kissing the back of your head and brushing your hair over your shoulders for you, he got to work.

Your body was lulled into relaxation as his fingers combed through your hair, loosely braiding it so you wouldn’t have to wake up with tangles and knots in the morning. His warmth was a comfort against your back and if the vicious bruise hadn’t been there, you would’ve leaned back against him, ready to melt into his tenderness.

“Vermax saw right through them.” You spoke up after a while, your eyelids drooping from time to time from exhaustion as Jace finished up his braid for you. “He didn’t let them see at first, but there was a moment where I knew he was going to protect me, that he knew what was happening.”

“He loves you as if you were his own rider.” Jace mumbled, affection for you and his dragon in his voice. “I am glad he had been there for you when I wasn’t.”

“I want the finest sheep the shepherds can organize for tomorrow.” You looked over your shoulder with determination and Jacaerys frowned at you, a question in his eyes. You welcomed the small sting your lip caused you when its corner lifted up into a weak smile: “I want Vermax to be rewarded for defending his rider’s princess so honorably.”

“And I’d be honored to be the one to select it for you, my princess.” Jace’s face darkened, fury swirling in his brown orbs. “I still wish they would’ve suffered more. They deserved much more than a quick death of fire.”

His revengeful words were nothing against the soft touch with which he doted on you and when he was done and brushed his fingers once more over your hair, your body wanted to sink into his pillows and melt into them.

Jace laid down with you, carefully adjusting his position beside you so he wouldn’t accidently bump into your sore body. You exhaled deeply when your head touched his pillow, smelling so comfortingly of him. You could not bear to lie on your back, so you snuggled into Jace’s bed on your stomach, hugging his pillow and turning your head so you could look at your love.

He was resting on his side, his brown eyes searching for any discomfort you might have. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, towards the door of his chambers.

“You are safe now, I promise.” Jace whispered and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your nose. “There are five guards outside and my sword leans against the bed. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever befall you again, my love, I swear it with my life.”

You gave him a tiny nod and tried to relax, although it was hard to keep the shadows lingering in the corners of the room at bay. You wiggled one of your hands out from under the pillow and found his, tugging him closer until his lean body warmed your side, one of his hands resting securely on your lower back.

“Tomorrow, I want to take a walk to the cliffs.” You whispered, longing for the fresh air and its cleansing effect.

Jacaerys smiled. “Then it will be arranged. Does my princess wish for any company?”

You nodded timidly, his playful undertone distracting you from the dull throb underneath the ointments. “And I want to have a picnic if the sun is out, with all my favorite things.”

“I’ll tell the kitchens then, first thing in the morning. They’ll be happy to please their future queen.”

“And when I’m healed, I want you to kiss me…” Your eyes drooped, the exhaustion from the night overpowering the little anxiety that remained in you.

“Your wish is my command...” Jacaerys mumbled back, his eyes on you as you slowly drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. He had not been entirely honest with you, there were many things he wanted to do.

He watched you sleep beside him, the most innocent sweet being he knew, covered with his warm clothes and bruises on your skin. Jace still held your hand and was not willing to let it go for the rest of the night.

At the soonest time, he’d convene a council meeting and strengthen the security around Dragonstone. He already had caught word of Daemon wreaking havoc on the guard unions patrolling around the castle for not being more attentive, for the princess was one of his favorite people in this family and Jace knew he’d have an ally for his cause.

He’d take his revenge for you.

But for now, he knew you needed him more than ever, and tomorrow he’d do his best to make you happy again. 

He could almost see it in the dark of the room, your eyes closed blissfully against the sunbeams, your hair dancing with the wind as you walked hand in hand as you had done so many times as children. You’d eat ripe peaches and cake and slowly, this incident would move past you until it was only what it was; a shadow in the corner, in the dead of night…

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[quarterlifekitty]

Read buttermilk today and now @ceilidho got me on that babysitter grindset… but what if I freaked it up a little.

cw: age gap (reader is around 21 and Soap is like 29ish), something sorta flirting with/on the edge of fauxcest due to a sibling-like bond, so I’m gonna tag it as such just in case.

Before Johnny enlisted, he’d only ever had one paying job.

Taking care of you.

About eight years your senior, your mom decided to go back to working when you were around 4 and he was on the cusp of 13. And for 5 years (an eternity to a kid like you) he was your best friend in the world. Would get out of school, walk to the elementary school to get you, bring you home, and hang out until whenever your parents got off of work.

And the boy was devoted. Didn’t mind that he had to put off hanging with his friends till the weekend. Didn’t mind making your snacks or watching silly kids movies. Didn’t mind when you asked him to play pretend veterinarian with you, and he had to lay down and act like a really sick horse. And you loved him.

The first time your parents took you on a vacation and you realized he wouldn’t be there? You were so mad. As mad as a 4 year old can be.

You’re embarrassed when you cry at the news that he’s enlisting— at age 10 you’re not supposed to cry anymore, you’re a big girl. He hugs you so tight, early in the morning before he has to go.

His folks move during his first tour. There isn’t an anchor to bring him back to you for a very long time. Over a decade, as it turns out.

He’s getting ready to go on leave when he gets a call— his mum buzzing with some kind of gossip as usual.

“You’ll never guess who I saw down at Sainsbury’s—“

Your university happens to be in the town his family moved to. He has his own place now of course, but he likes to keep close to them.

His first night back and his mum is beside herself— trying to get the place nice, because you’re joining them for dinner. Johnny never even considers that when you come to the door, you’re not the little girl he left tearing up on her parents porch.

He has to remember to close his mouth at the sight of you. His dad offers you a beer for fuck’s sake. He’s amazed at how much has changed— but also, how much is the same. The curve of your nose, and bubble of your laughter, the way your eyes widen with interest.

You happen to be on break right now. So of course, he ends up unwittingly spending all of his leave with you. You were always a funny kid— you’re a lot funnier now that you can swear. And you were always cute but now you’re so… pretty.

And he is not a fucking fan of the kind of attention it gets you. The way guys look at you when you’re sitting alone, waiting for him at a coffee shop. How your phone goes off at least once every 20 minutes, and it’s almost always ‘this guy from your class’. He tells himself that it’s just because he was responsible for you for so long— that he’s just having trouble shaking that off. He just remembers when you were so innocent— he doesn’t wanna see you get chewed up and spit out by college boys.

And he keeps finding himself falling into old patterns. Making you stay still so he can wipe your mouth after having a bit of a messy danish. Holding your hand tight when you’re in a busy place, crossing any streets. Having you tell him what you want so he can order things for you. Picking you up so he can hear you giggle and tell him to put you down.

He tells himself that when he touches himself later that it’s just because being away for work has left him touch starved and sensitive. It’s only natural to get turned on by a pretty girl who leans into him… especially when you get along so famously.

(Even though he remembers playing I spy while he held your hand and walked you home from school, your little backpack slung over his shoulder, even though he had his own to carry. )

Before he knows it, it’s his last night at home, ending it off with another of his mum’s dinners. At the table you casually mention the graduate schools you’re thinking of going to— some close by, some not. He almost chokes when you mention that there’s a really nice school in Canada you were considering.

That’s when he knows he’s fucked. Because he doesn’t think of that as you getting on with your life. Of a girl getting her education. He thinks of that as losing you, and after the bliss of the past couple of weeks he’s had with you, he’s not sure he’ll take being separated from you nearly as long as he did the last time. Not to mention all of the guys at your school trying to get their hands on you.

So he’s gonna have to find a way to get you too invested to travel far. And figure out how to protect you from those assholes when he’s not around.

Making you a part of his family and putting his ring on your finger should be enough, right?

[thestarrynightslover]

The Trials of Dating in Secrecy

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 2,374

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, workplace romance, nudity, and verbal sexual harassment (all very light).

Summary: Okay, so this one features a bit of work issues (workplace romance), and a bit of jealous!Harvey + Harvey taking care of his girl, as requested by Anon.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Well this is the first request I took and I’ll admit that it was a bit challenging, not cause it was particularly hard but because I wasn’t super inspired at first, nor did I have the time. Though, now, I think it worked? Idk, don’t feel like this was my best work either but feel free to leave some feedback, and thanks for reading!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

“Seriously, Harvey!” You let out annoyed. “I think I should probably go home now,” you said, thinking that if you did go home you could keep yourself from saying something you might regret later. 

“Oh, really? So now you're mad at me because I’m simply asking a bit more of this relationship?” He asked, looking ready to have a full-on fight.

“No, Harvey! What I’m actually upset about is how you’re making today all about yourself and your needs, when I’m the one going through it all!” You really didn’t wanna shout but the little bit of patience you had left vanished when his questions reminded you of the little stunt he’d pulled today.

Earlier that day, at the firm, you had been giving a consult to a prospective client on an intellectual property lawsuit he may be looking at and the guy seemed a bit disinterested in his own situation, giving you — and by you, you mean your body — most of his attention. But that was fineish, it was a regular occurrence, being a young woman in that field, so you didn’t really mind it anymore, at this point — after all, ignoring the occasional sexual harassment was usually the easiest route to advancing in your career. The problem was that the man started interrupting your professional analysis to hit on you, and eventually, he reached for your forearm, caressing it as he spoke. And that was exactly when Harvey, the man you’d secretly been dating for about 7 months now, decided to walk into your office. As he entered your office, you yanked your arm out of the man’s grasp but you couldn’t shut him up just as quickly, so your boyfriend got there just in time to hear a “So, if you really like yourself a sturdy stallion,” he pointed at a framed picture of you riding a horse on the wall behind you, “you should ride mine, someday. If you know what I mean,” he finalized with a wink, and how on Earth could you — or anyone hearing that — not know what he meant when he had said it so suggestively? 

“What did you just say to her?” Harvey’s voice came sharply, indicating he was about to get into a fistfight with the man who was probably not going to be your client now.

“Oh, we’re just chatting about- uh, who are you, again?” The shorter guy had the nerve to ask.

After that, Harvey was so quick to hoist the man up from the chair in front of you, by the collar of his dress shirt, that you didn’t even have time to react before he started punching the guy right in the face.

“I’m her boyfriend, that’s who I am! And you will be out of here before I take you out myself.” The man didn’t fall backward solely because Harvey had a hold on him, still, so he just stared at the other attorney in shock. “What are you looking at? Get out!” Harvey shouted once again, tossing the man towards your office door.

After that, you tried calming Harvey down but you barely had any time for it before Jessica and Louis barged into your office, revolted by their partner’s behavior and asking what had gotten into him to attack a prospective client like that.

“The prick was propositioning my-” But you cut him off before he could complete his sentence.

“He was harassing me during the meeting, and Harvey walked in and heard it, and, as a good colleague, he wanted to defend my honor, I guess,” you said with a short, humorless laugh while making air quotes with your fingers.

“A good colleague?” The tall senior partner asked quietly, hurt pooling in his eyes.

“Well… That’s terrible but you know better than to do this, Harvey,” Jessica told him.

“You know, I’d never thought I’d see the day you would act like such a caring gentleman for anyone, Specter,” Louis added, as always, eager to make things worse. “And, (y/n), at the very least you need to reach out to that man and take him out to an apology dinner. Because you are well aware of how important it is for you to get more clients.”

“Yes, I-” You stopped what you were saying mid-sentence because the man you loved was storming out of your office and all you wanted to do was chase after him.

“And now you’re gonna let him get off with that shit he pulled this easy?” Louis shouted, obviously trying to be heard by Harvey too. “I mean, this firm is turning into a complete mess, Jessica! It’s like you can’t control your office anymore! A junior partner who barely has her own clients and a senior partner battering prospective clients? We’re gonna go bankrupt like this, if not sued for malpractice altogether! And-”

“Louis, will you shut up, for God’s sake? I’m the managing partner and I’ll deal with both of them. Now go and let me talk to (y/n) alone!” Your boss responded, making you apprehensive about the conversation you were about to have with her.

As he left the room, Jessica motioned for you to sit on the couch with her. “(y/n), first of all, are you okay? Because if that man did something to you, then…”

“No, no! The harassment was just verbal,” not that that made it any better, you thought to yourself. “Harvey intervened before it could get to that.”

“Right. Well, that’s a relief.” She paused for an instant, giving one of those smiles she used when she was going to convince you of something unpleasant. “Now, as much as it pains me to admit it, Louis is right. You need more clients. I didn’t think it’d be good to tell you this after our conversation but the board has been pressuring me about making personnel cuts. Directed mostly to the partners who aren’t producing much. And you know that I like your work, and see your value to the company but those old men in suits only care about numbers, so if you don’t manage to bring in a new client by the end of the week… I am going to push for you to go after that man’s account again. Using whatever means necessary.” She declared, still sporting that smile. “Are we clear?”

At that, a defeated “Yes, Jessica” was all you could mutter. And then she left. And all you could think about was how you’d somehow managed to screw up both your professional and personal life, all at once.

Leaving work that day, after setting up four meetings with potential clients for the following days, all you could think about was making up with Harvey, so you went to his place to talk. And that’s how you got to the argument you were having now. He was upset about the whole ‘good colleague’ thing and you were upset because you could have handled the situation without burning that bridge with the guy, which was multiplied by ten when you remembered that you were on deadline to get more clients — something you hadn’t told Harvey.

“Making it all about-” He’d started saying angrily but stopped himself and his voice instantly took on a soft, caring tone, “wait, what do you mean you’re going through it all?”

Now you realized what you’d said.

“Uh, I meant nothing. I was just being dramatic, is all,” you stated unconvincingly.

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. If anyone is dramatic in this relationship, it’s me and we both know it,” he said, making you crack a small smile, thinking of how right he was. “So tell me, honey, what’s going on?”

“I, um, I’m being encouraged, or, better said, ordered to expand my client list.” There, you’d said it.

“What? Why?”

“You know why, Harvey. You just can’t be a partner at the firm if you don’t bring enough money in.” You told him, defeated.

“But… but you’re so good! You bring such good attention to the company’s name, your clients might actually be more satisfied with your work than mine, and they are very satisfied with my work,” he said matter-of-factly with a grin on his face.

“Yeah, maybe. But you might not know this because you've always been a man and Jessica’s protégé but for the rest of us, women trying to be successful at Pearson, the bar is just much higher, babe. And they're threatening to take away my partnership, maybe even my job altogether, if I don't get it done,” you finally finished your confession with teary eyes, even though you didn’t want to cry about it.

“That’s… that’s just unacceptable!” He let out, running his hands through his hair, “Did- does Jessica know about that? Because I can-” He tried to go on with his speech but you cut him off.

“She knows, Harvey. She says she likes my work but her hands are tied.” You let him know, sighing a little.

“But… that’s not… that doesn’t make any sense! It’s just not like Jessica to give in like that…” Harvey commented, starting to look defeated as well.

“Maybe when it’s about someone like you. But with me? She might not even be trying all that hard.” To which he responded with a mischievous glint in his eyes, perking up.

“Then, I’ll talk to her! I’ll tell her that, if she doesn’t secure your place in the company, I’m going to start listening to those offers I get all the time!” He said smiling widely this time.

“Harvey! You can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’d be incredibly stupid, and unprofessional, and-” You didn’t wanna finish your sentence but you had to. “And, that way, she’ll know.”

“Know?”

“About us. That we’re dating,” you finished sighing again.

“She’ll kn-” he stopped mid-sentence, full of disbelief. “And what’s so wrong with that?”

“Harvey…”

“No, don’t ‘Harvey’ me, (y/n)! If you don’t want me to help because it’d be unprofessional, then that’s okay. I can understand that. But what exactly are you trying to tell me, huh? That our relationship’s never gonna see the light of day? Or are you trying to break up with me?” That last question came out of him in such a low tone you could barely believe had come from him.

“No! Of course I don’t wanna break up-”

“Then tell me what do you want? Because I don’t understand why I can’t tell the world that I’m your boyfriend. I don’t get what’s so wrong about your boyfriend telling off a prick who can’t keep his hands to himself around another man’s woman-”

“Do you seriously think now is a good time to be possessive?”

“Oh, honey, I am possessive by nature. Especially around you,” he stated coming closer to where you were standing. And you could do nothing but welcome his warmth, after all, it’d been a long day.

As you stepped fully into his embrace and rested your head on his chest, you told him “I love you, Harvey. I don’t wanna break up with you. And I want you to tell the world that I’m your girlfriend, even Jessica,” hearing that, his eyes lit up. “But, as much of a prick as that man was, you need to understand that I can handle myself and that you need to give me space to make my own way at work, just like you made yours.”

“You’re right.”

“I know,” you joked, trying to shrug your shoulders at him.

“And I won’t try to interfere at work anymore. But don’t think that I’m just gonna stand around doing nothing if I see someone trying to mess with my girl again.”

“Well, that-”

“I’m not done yet,” he said, silencing you in an instant, “you should also know that, when you’re home with me, you’re mine to take care of.”

“Yeah? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” You asked him with a smug smile.

His only response was swiftly picking you up and taking you to his suite’s bathroom, where he gently sat you down on the edge of the tub, just to start running the hot water into the bath he’d already filled with delicious-smelling bathing salts. “Wait here, baby.”

A bit later he came back carrying some candles he started lighting with one of the matches from a box he had in his other hand.

“What are you doing, Harv?”

“Just come over here,” he said after having spread the candles all throughout his spacious bathroom. They were scented too, you noticed. The second you reached him, though, instead of holding you close, he started taking off your clothes, slow and gentle, piece by piece. Which he followed up with little kisses all over your now bare skin. After being satisfied with his work of making you forget everything, he picked you up again and, this time, carefully dipped you into the bathtub. “Now, you just lay back and relax, darling.”

“You’re not joining me?” You asked him hopefully.

“No, I’m taking care of your dinner,” right after he left, though, one of your favorite songs started playing softly on a speaker he’d set somewhere.

You probably dozed off in that tub, because before you knew it you were being held by your boyfriend in his bed, still completely naked. “Hey.”

“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted you with a grin, “you know, you were taking so long to wake up, that I was starting to think that the breakfast I made you was gonna get cold.”

“Wait a second, last night you were making me dinner and this morning you made me breakfast… two for two! What’s happening to you?” You asked, giggling like a child.

“Nothing, nothing! It’s just… I told you, at home, I take care of you, that’s all.” He told you while he guided you out of the bed, handing you one of his shirts altogether. 

“You know, you keep saying ‘at home’ but this isn’t really our home…” As you put on his dress shirt, you followed him towards his living room. 

“It could be…” And that’s when you saw a set of keys at the dinner table by the cutlery.

[bucknastysbabe]

I just read all your hotd posts and let me tell you I am OBSESSED!

Wanted to ask if you could potentially write something for cockwarming with Jace please? Maybe not as an modern au but with actual prince Jahaerys Valeryon?

If not that’s totally fine but I would go CRAZY if you would! Absolutely love your work

YES I CAN- I LOVE SOME CUNTY JACAERYS HES PERFEXT AND HUNG. Sorry for the wait hope you like❤️❤️❤️❤️

Dreary - Jace Velaryon x Bar Emmon!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Fluffy fluff, sweet baby boy jace, who has a horse cock, set around 2x02, intimacy hehe, cock warming, Baela is a bad bitch she ALLOWS jace to have his little swordfish gf, rip luke ily baby, anyways pnv!sex, some angst, PREP, also I just know the vibes at dragonstone are rancid I would be pissed

Taglist: @aemondfairy @aemonds-holy-milk @arcielee @elaratyrell @jamespotterismydaddy @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @starogeorgina @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose @simp-aholic @jacevelaryonswife (I just added you bc jace wife)

It was a dreary day on Dragonstone. Which was more often than not. Chilly, fierce winds blowing across the Gullet into the Blackwater. You knew how harsh these winds and storms could be, being born Bar Emmon of Sharp Point.

Something was stagnant around the ancient keep of Dragonstone. Perhaps it was the war beginning to ramp up, the continued grief of Prince Lucerys’ death. Going outdoors was a luxury on the volcanic island, anything to escape the mounting emotions within.

Baela was deep within the keep with Queen Rhaenyra. You were a lady-in-waiting of Princess Baela, but she oft preferred her independence or family. The Targaryen dismissed you to ‘find some rest’.

Walking aimlessly around the fused Valyrian stone, hand dragging upon the cold wall, you entered the library. The smell of books and the usual brimstone filled your nose. Haggard gargoyles and wyverns decorated the walls. A small fire crackled in the fireplace, that in the shape of a dragon’s maw. You’d be lying if you said this place wasn’t strange.

Peering among the old tomes and stacked scrolls, you noticed a familiar tousled head sitting in front of the fire. The Prince Jacaerys, the betrothed of Baela. Even if they seemed better friends than to be married as of late. Baela confessed to you late at night that she didn’t want to fall for him during a time of war.

You’d taken to the Prince meanwhile. Guilt didn’t pool in your gut when the Princess didn’t seem to care. Baela knew about your trysts and caught you kissing him in an alcove. Your lips quirked up at the memory— the gorgeous Princess merely laughed, “I was wondering if you had it in you, Jace.”

Coming close to him, you paused. Jace had been struggling as of late. He was brooding and ridden with grief over Luke. You nervously fingered at your dark blue dress, debating if you should leave him be. He was taking on more of a role in the escalating war.

“My Prince,” came your softened call.

He straightened up, turning to face you over a shoulder. Jace hummed, “Lady Bar Emmon. Are you finding yourself stifled again?” He turned further to get a look at you, brown eyes softening. He looked handsome in his black tunic, fine red dragons woven upon the sleeves.

“Quite stifling today. Winter is coming.”

He laughed softly at that, beckoning you over.

You padded to the chair adjacent, Jacaerys familiar arms pulling you back into his lap. You bit back a yelp, looking at him in shock. His full lips curled up a bit as he murmured, “Winter is coming. I saw it firsthand at the Wall. The Stark in the North himself told me all about it.”

You adjusted to curl more to the side, gently petting his curls, careful not to pull. “That sounds…frightful actually,” came your admittance. Jace looked amused as he replied, “Lord Cregan, I liked him, but he was intense. I do prefer the South, Vermax does. He’s likely all snug in his nest.”

The Dragonmont. You wouldn’t mind a warm nest for a minute. Albeit not at Dragon levels.

You laughed softly, “What about the Eyrie? I suppose it was nicer flying up the Mountains of the Moon. I’ve heard it’s the most beautiful of the Castles.”

Jace’s dark eyes sparkled a little as he teased, “Not as beautiful as Sharp Point my lady.”

You batted his shoulder with a scoff and a frown, “Very funny, a big watch tower and old fortifications. Tell me about the Eyrie!”

He chuckled softly, a hand coming up to cradle your neck, his other arm securing your waist. Jacaerys hummed, “Very well, the home of Lady Jeyne was magnificent. All white marble with blue veins. Seven slim towers, no stables, no smithy’s, but a large granary. You can hear Alyssa’s tears, it’s very soothing.”

You looked on in awe as you imagined the painting come to life with his words. Jace continued as he nuzzled your neck, “Mm- just as gorgeous and crisp on the inside, I slept quite well, and got to see the infamous moon door and sky cells. Very Andal castle, don’t know how they did it.”

You gripped his hair as his plush lips began to press against your neck. “Did Vermax like it?” You asked in a shaky voice. He laughed against your sensitive skin, “Of course, scaring the tribes and eating their goats.” Jacaerys pressed one more kiss before pulling back, his ringed hand cupping your cheek.

“I’m sorry I’ve been…distanced,” he murmured, those damn dark eyes and long lashes piercing your heart. Shushing the Prince you shook your head, firmly stating, “You have been grieving. We all grieve, especially for you and your family. For him.”

You didn’t want to speak his name out loud, the lingering implication made sweet Jace blink and look away. Thumbing away his stray tear you murmured, “I wish I could take that pain from you.” He looked back, croaking as his arms engulfed you.

“I missed you so much.”

You sighed the words back, realigning your hips to face his, straddling the prince. Cupping his cheek once again you closed into his mouth, gentle at first. It felt like years while he was gone. Jacaerys grabbed your hips, pulling you flush as he kissed back, full lips soft and careful.

His length throbbed against your thigh as the kisses deepened, Jace’s hands wandering from your ass to your waist, greedily grabbing any flesh. You moaned into his mouth, Jace filling the space with his tongue, sliding it against your own. The brunette moaned, “Gods I missed you. More than just this.”

You pressed your forehead to him, panting, “I missed you too, love. More than this, as much as I enjoy it too.”

He laughed, nibbling at the hollow of your throat, hands sliding up your skirts to reveal your stockings and bare cunt. Jacaerys groaned again, his cock twitching. He mumbled, “Need to get you ready for me again angel.” You nodded, weakly nodding.

Jacaerys’ cock could easily make you bleed everywhere, especially after months apart. He resumed his attention to your neck, thick fingers sliding down to drift across your slick folds and opening. He teased at your clit, drawing a gasp.

You grabbed his hair and pulled him back, kissing him hard as one finger slid into your cunt, pumping just so before quickly adding another. Jace breathed against your twitching lips, “You’re eager.” He had that cocky lopsided smile, eyes hazy.

He pumped his fingers deeper, curling them as you gasped, “I- ah! Could say the same.” You felt his cock straining his breeches, rubbing against heated flesh. Jace moaned again, fingers stretching and scissoring, adding his third finger.

You mewled a little at the pinch, tucking your face into his warm neck. The prince cooed and drug the heel of his palm against your clit, the other hand rubbing your trembling back in slow circles. His voice was a near whisper as he praised, “You’re alright my love, you’re doing so good, gonna feel so good.”

His pinky slipped in your slippery, stretched cunt now, keeping you open as he eased the four digits in and out as you whimpered, Jacaerys kissing your lips and cheeks, shushing you. He adjusted and curled upwards again, dragging roughly against your sweet spot.

You cried out in the library, Jace using his off hand to pull down your dress, suckling and nibbling at your tits as he spread you impossibly open. He sealed his mouth over your nipple, flicking his tongue, playfully humming.

The discomfort was edging into pleasure quickly as Jacaerys worked your body. Your whimpering had turned to panting, then whining in ecstasy as he stuffed you with his sinful fingers, those pretty swollen lips around your tit. You couldn’t help but shiver and grab his hair, muscles tensing up as you moaned his name.

He groaned, kissing his way across the valley of your tits to latch onto the other, his ever-wandering hand giving your now neglected teat a playful squeeze. His fingers were only moving quicker as your cunt practically drooled all over his hand, the lurid squelching loud. You blushed at the sound, heaving and shivering once more.

He swiped your clit one good time, sending you over the edge with a muffled cry, gushing and spasming from head to toe. He pulled off your nipple to watch in awe, murmuring, “My pretty girl.”

You shook through the remnants of the orgasm, cunt twitchy and sensitive even after Jacaerys eased his fingers out. He was undoing his breeches now, moaning under his breath as you watched him pull out his flushed cock, slathering his wet fingers all over the organ.

The sight drew out a low mewl. Jace’s pretty cock was a sight to be seen. He was blessed by the Father, to say the least. Abnormally large yet otherworldly. Dragon cock or whatever they called it in jest.

You lifted your tired hips, the brunette whimpering a little as he slicked himself up further against you, gasping as he swirled the blunt head around your entrance. Jace moaned, “F-fuck, okay, okay, ready my love?”

You nodded, eyes on his as you began to sink, mouth falling open as the oversensitivity and fullness struck. Jace’s thumbs were on your hips, swirling little circles as you descended. The pair of you gasped and panted wetly into each other’s mouths, eyes watery and intense.

Your ass met his lap, a tremble up your spine from the fullness. Jace pulled you against him, stretching his legs out as he pressed kisses to your jaw and neck. His hands rubbed your back, lulling you into relaxing. Taking a deep breath, you settled atop Jace, your cunt pleasantly full and stretched, throbbing a bit.

“Can we perhaps, sit like this for a bit?” You asked him, holding his cheek. Jace seemed more than fine, running his hands lazily across your back still, petting at your hair. He hummed, “Mhm, yes, that’ll be perfect.”

So the pair of you sat in relative ease, humming and lazing by fire. There wasn’t much of a need to speak, more of a time for comfort and intimacy. Jace rambled a little about how much he cared for you, getting shushed again. He smiled at you, rolling his eyes.

The feeling of your lover’s molten cock was beginning to make you sweat. Jacaerys fared no better, shifting restlessly, hands sliding up to grab your ass. He moaned as you clenched involuntarily, needing more. The brunette whispered, “You want it now love? I want you now.”

Indulging the prince you nodded, moaning, “Yes my prince, it’s time, ngh- gods.”

His head fell back as his hands gripped your waist, thrusting up for the first time. Jace’s moan echoed as he pulled back to fuck up into you again. You gasped and whined as he seemed to stuff your cunt further, hips slapping against your ass.

Jacaerys planted his feet, breathing hard as he began to fuck in earnest, mouth hanging open, lips puffy. You felt him eyeing you, your tits bouncing, your stomach baring the vague outline of his cock deep, deep inside. He grunted and held you tighter, losing himself in your slick core.

He inhaled sharply, stuttering his hips, babbling, “Fuck- you feel- so tight my love.” You were at his mercy, reduced to little whines and tears, he was rubbing everything, the friction rising. You clenched further and further as he forced his cock into you, grunting and groaning. Jace’s heavy balls slapped your ass, just another sound in the cacophony of sex.

You shivered and came first, having to pull yourself off, sharply crying. Jace’s cock was hot against your backside, whining some as he pumped a heavy load on your back and ass. You fell against him again, legs shaky and aching from the splendid pain. He panted, holding you tight.

Jace kissed the crown of your head, the comfortable, loving silence between you two and the crackling fire filling the library again. You’d wash up once you figured you could walk again. Damn, Prince.

[yunhoszn]

horses are still overrated

pairing jeong yunho x f!reader word count 2k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, mentions of voyeurism, dirty talk, marking-ish, mutual masturbation, kissing, slight cum eating shhhhh don’t say anything, pet names: baby, babe, princess

summary new relationships always have room for experimenting, and well, you and yunho are no exception.

more ok so i tried doing these in ask format but i didn’t like it so we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming with a little update :P anyway,, this was for this request! it’s meant to be an extension of save a horse, ride a cowboy but can totally be read as a standalone! i kinda strayed from the initial req, but i hope this is still good… it’s still yunho day so <3 ALSO @bro-atz thank u for betaing my love i appreciate u so big!! pls reblog if u enjoyed!

@atzhouse

The few weeks that have passed since you and Yunho have confessed to each other have been nothing short of blissful. 

He makes you feel like you’re soaring, ensuring that your happiness is the top priority. He embraces you in a way that’s not only physical, but emotional too. Like his feelings for you are their own special hug of warmth that envelopes you when you need it most. You could never get tired of him, could never return to your life back home like this summer never happened. 

Because in all honesty, this summer was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you. 

You have a small smile on your face as you reminisce about the wonderful time you’ve spent here so far, leaning back into the bench on the farmhouse porch. Initially, you were sitting here to openly gawk after Yunho as he rounded up the cattle, but now you were too giddy to pay attention to that. You don’t notice him walking towards you directly, Yeoreum tailing behind him. 

“What’s got you so cheesy today?” 

You blink at his question, feeling a bit bashful. You’ll never get used to this view. “I was just thinking about us, and how happy you make me.”

“That’s cute,” he mirrors your expression, one hand on the back of the bench to hold his weight and the other coming up to cup your jaw, lips pecking yours gently. “Ready for dinner?”

“I have a confession to make,” you start as you’re washing the dishes after dinner. 

“What’s up?” Yunho asks you from the other side of the kitchen, putting away the leftovers. He shuts the refrigerator and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. You swallow thickly. 

“I’ve just had this on my chest for so long and I need to get it off before I explode,” you ramble, avoiding his eyes as you scrub a plate. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“I promise,” he chuckles, and you can hear his footsteps as he gets closer. “I won’t judge you.”

Your sigh comes out as more of a shudder, Yunho’s arms wrapping around your middle and his chin resting on your shoulder. The new proximity makes you ten times more nervous to say your piece, your heart beating erratically behind your rib cage. This is fine. This is great actually. (No it’s not!)

“Do— um— do you remember the day before Seojun and I broke up?” Your hands are trembling slightly. 

“When you gave Yeoreum a bath, right?” He nods, the movement bothering you slightly because it has his chin digging into your shoulder uncomfortably. “What about it?”

”So…” You have to pause the dishes, your hands clamming up so much that you think the handle of your sponge will fly out of your grasp. “That night, when my lightbulb went out, I actually went out to go grab you. But— uh— I saw something… else… instead…”

Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely too mortified to even think about what his reaction could be. It’s been a minute since the ordeal played out, so really you didn’t have to say anything. Part of you felt like you couldn’t continue this relationship in good conscience without being totally honest, though. 

Strong hands wrap gently around your wrists, turning you around to face him. He tsks, “Open your eyes, princess.”

His eyes are soft, no hint of disappointment or disgust on his features as he stares back at you. His lips curl into a smug smile after a couple seconds, cupping your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. You blink at him, a little confused by the shift in atmosphere, but not complaining. 

“You’re not—?” 

“You watched me fuck my fist, is that right?” Yunho asks so bluntly, so vulgarly. “Tell me, what did you do after that?”

It’s easy to divert your gaze again, focusing on how interesting the material of his button up suddenly is. It’s one thing to admit that you stood there and watched for a bit, it’s another to admit you stuffed yourself with your own fingers not even fifteen minutes later. But you think he already knows that, based on your behavior and some good ol’ context clues. 

“I… I touched myself,” you whimper, ashamed of how you’re getting turned on. The worst part is the fact that he’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying the way he has you folding for him so quickly. “To the thought of you…”

Yunho’s grip on your chin tightens and his eyes flutter shut with a groan. “Fuck, baby, that’s so hot…”

You weren’t sure how this would go, and a piece of you genuinely thought he might even end things with you. Any other person would think you were sick and perverted, but not him. It makes you feel a lot better and a lot more secure in your relationship. 

Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth, grazing the pad of his thumb. He hisses, cursing under his breath, letting you wrap your lips around and suck the finger. Yunho stares with not a single coherent thought behind his eyes. He’s losing his composure, pressing his thumb down on your tongue. 

“Do you think you can tell me? How exactly did you touch yourself?” He purses his lips, his free hand slipping into the opening of your overalls, dragging his finger along the exposed skin of your waist. You shake your head with a whine.

”Yun… That’s embarrassing…” 

He pulls his hand out of your overalls, hooking the digit into your belt loop and yanking you closer. His mouth is dangerously near your own, lips brushing yours when he speaks. “I wanna know. Need to picture my pretty princess fucking herself desperately ‘cause her fingers aren’t enough to get her off.”

Your legs feel like jelly, your cunt clenching around nothing just by his words alone. Yunho had always done such a good job at being the sweet and doting partner everyone wanted. He was attentive, praised you like you were a living, breathing goddess. But this dirty side of him is different. And you like it a lot more than you should.

“O-Okay…” You swallow thickly, and suddenly he’s spinning you so his chest is to your back. He urges you towards the bedroom, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking the supple skin gently, tenderly.

”Go on,” he says between kisses, still pushing you until you’re standing in the middle of his room. Your eyes already feel heavy and you haven’t done anything yet. “Tell me.”

”I— um— I thought about your hands and how big they are,” your tone is shaky, and you hope you don’t sound stupid. “Thought about how good it would feel to have them all over me. I pictured that it was your fingers inside of me. Imagined your cock, and how big it is.”

“Is that so? I’m just not getting the visual, babe. I think I need you to show me.” He hums, a hint of amusement in his voice. As if this couldn’t get more embarrassing, now he wants you to finger yourself in front of him? You’re about to protest, but he’s pressing your lower back to the mattress and talking against the corner of your mouth again, teasing you because he knows he can. “If you’re good for me, I’ll fuck you so well, you won’t be able to forget the shape of my cock.”

You nod with a whimper, hopping onto the bed and scooting all the way up to the pillows. Your hands are wobbly as you undress yourself, unbuckling your overalls and kicking them off your feet. Of course you chose the worst day to dress the part. Yunho sits at the edge, watching you with an unreadable expression. 

When you’re in nothing but your top and panties, he clears his throat, leaning back onto his palms. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Move your underwear to the side for me, princess. Let me see your pretty pussy.”

It’s almost impossible to hold back a moan, following his instructions. You glide your middle finger through your folds, showcasing how you’re practically dripping for him in the amount of time it’s taken you to get from the kitchen to here. He exhales through his nose, legs spreading to give you a glimpse of an uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants. 

You sigh deeply at the sight, circling your finger around your clit slowly. The thought of being the cause behind it, of getting Yunho so hot and bothered, drives you crazy and has you curling your toes. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, tossing his denim button up to the floor. He palms over his erection, tilting his head slightly. “Can you do some more for me?”

“Mhm,” is all you can manage to force out, doing what he asked. You shove your ring and middle fingers inside of yourself, finally releasing a moan at the intrusion. You keep pressure on your clit with the heel of your palm. There’s silence between you save for the occasional whine.

Yunho shivers, shimmying out of his pants so he can stroke himself freely. You gawk at him with bated breath, biting your lip as your fingers pick up their pace. There’s a knot that settles in the pit of your stomach, tightening and tightening in preparation for that special moment. 

The view of him spread out in front of you, fucking up into his hand with hooded eyes trained on your own playing with your cunt, is too much. He’s wearing that same godforsaken white tank top as he was the night you saw him, the muscles in his forearm and bicep flexing with each twist of his wrist, each pump of his cock. 

You feel like you’re drooling, ogling at him like he was a piece of meat. But you couldn’t help it. Yunho was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. The longer you stare, the further you fall. That’s a conclusion you’ve come to a little too late. 

“‘M close, Yun,” you moan, arching your back off of the pillows, head almost clunking against the headboard. “Wanna cum with you.”

“I’m almost there, too, baby,” he grunts, teeth gritted as he runs his thumb over his slit. That has a loud whine spilling from your lips, your feet digging into the mattress. You don’t know how much longer you can last. 

Your fingers try to reach that spongy, sensitive spot deep in your cunt, but you can’t. It seems that only Yunho’s long, thick fingers could accomplish that feat. No wonder you were so obsessed with his hands.

You opt for using the fingers of your free hand to swipe quickly at your clit while the others curl and thrust into you, inching you toward that steep cliff that has stars decorating your vision. Judging by the volume of his sounds getting higher and higher, you can tell Yunho’s right there with you. 

One particular absentminded curse from him has your brain short circuiting, that promise of release washing over you almost violently. Your body aches and quivers, orgasming harder than you ever had just with your own hand. (You’d like to think the presence of a certain cowboy had everything to do with it.)

He groans and follows behind shortly after, painting his hand in milky white. The two of you try to catch your breaths, laying there for a couple moments to recuperate. After a while, Yunho leans over to kiss you gently, squeezing your cheeks with his cum covered hand. You scrunch your nose. 

“You’re getting it on my face!”

“That was the goal,” he laughs, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. You roll your eyes, licking away whatever was near your mouth. He groans again. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me? Purposely?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “I remember being told you’d fuck me if I did good for you. Where’s my reward?”

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 1

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

✨So first part is finally here!! Please be aware this part is set to happen in different days therefore you’ll see a little divider in the middle… and also! There’s violence. Please note I’m trying to follow the ideas/education from back in the day so it won’t necessary fit for today’s way of seeing things.

Word count: 2,977

Waving her sister goodbye, Y/N headed outside. But to her surprise she found Scott stopping his vehicle.

“Hello sweetheart.” He greeted her with a quick kiss on her lips, she stepped back immediately in case her mother was watching behind the curtains.

“Scott, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“We’ll I lied and said I felt sick to get out earlier.”

This wasn’t something he’d do, but she listened to his explanation.

“I wanted to see you.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder, her parents were strict.

“You know you’re only invited for lunch and tea on Sundays.”

“I know, I know.” He moved back retrieving something from the car. “Got you these.”

“I love them, thank you.” Y/N pressed the bouquet of flowers against her chest, the fresh aroma invading her, a smile growing in her lips.

“Why don’t you go back inside and put them in water? Then meet me at the bakery around the corner.”

“Where are we going?”

Scott gave her a wide smile that took her breath away. “It’s a surprise, you’ll like it.”

Butterflies got spread all over her stomach, the expectation building. She hurried to the unexpected date.

“Listen, I want to apologize for acting shitty the other day.” Scott announced. “Can you forgive me love?”

Y/N nodded eagerly, pleased by his change of heart.

“It’s alright, just be careful next time.” Y/N suggested as he drove.

“Careful?”

“You shouldn’t have talked Tommy that way.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “There you go again, defending him. This why we fight.”

“No, Scott I don’t want a war between you two all the time, he didn’t like the way you talked to me.”

“Why does he always sticks his bloody nose in our business?”

“It’s not like that.”

“He’s always standing in the middle, I’m sick of getting orders from him, he leaves me the worst jobs just to please himself, he’s got people to do those things. I thought they wanted me to do other things, not to clean horses shit.”

“Scott I can’t interfere in your role among the gang, he already has done more than enough.”

“There it is, you’re defending him instead of being on my side…”

Y/N realized how unintentionally she always put Tommy on a pedestal, her boyfriend was right, feeling like he was belittled. She knew Tommy didn’t like him, and there was a possibility that she wasn’t impartial.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She finally gave in, not wanting to spend their time together fighting.

“That’s my girl.” He stopped the car on the sideway and began to shower her face with soft kisses.

”Do you need anything else?” Lizzie walked around the desk, resting against the bookshelf.

“What happened with the contracts you couldn’t find?” Tommy asked leaning back on his chair.

“Arthur took them by mistake.”

“Keep those locked.” He pointed a finger at her.

“Are you going to Karl’s birthday party?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, but Tommy wasn’t looking at her.

“Yes, in a minute.”

Lizzie looked down at him again, hoping he’d ask her to join him.

“Heard Ada bought a huge cake.”

Tommy took his briefcase and hummed nonchalantly.

“I wrapped you a present for Karl, take it before you leave.”

She didn’t get a response.

Giving up to her wishes to be invited with the Shelby family, Lizzie shook her head. Collecting the remains of her dignity from the floor.

Tommy followed her with his eyes as she stomped her foot on her way out but dismissed it a few seconds later, not understanding her attitude.

The office was quiet when he crossed it, everyone had headed home already and his family were already in Polly’s house.

This was the first time he left considerably early in a long time. The need to release some stress made him reach for a cigarette. He had a dozen of things to do, a trip to London in the upcoming days, visit one of the fabrics… before he realized, Tommy parked outside Polly’s property.

Karl’s celebration was a rare family gathering. For his brothers birthdays they’d usually went to camp close to the river and drink all night. He wasn’t used to paper decorations and chocolate cake.

A small figure crashed against his legs. “Oh oh.”

Looking down, he found one of John’s kids. Was this Kate? Or Barbara?

“Careful.”

“There you are.” John appeared with a sandwich in his hand. “Go with your siblings.” He instructed his daughter.

“John.” Tommy called him mysteriously, with his hand motioning his brother to step closer. “Wipe your fucking mouth, you’ve got chocolate all over it.”

Stepping into the living room, he joined his family.

“Uncle Tommy!” Karl ran towards him with his arms open.

Tommy rubbed the kid’s back and offered him his present. “Happy birthday Karl.”

“Thank you!”

“Looks like you owe me money Pol.” Ada chuckled as she helped her son open his present.

Tommy looked from his sister to his aunt, studying them.

“Damn it. I thought he wasn’t going to show up.”

“So you made a bet?” He asked in disbelief.

He usually wouldn’t. But when it came to his sister, he made an effort.

“Where’s Y/N?” Polly asked with a frown.

“I sent her the invitation, thought you’d arrive together.” Ada explained staring at her brother.

But Tommy shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen or heard from her.”

“Shit! Pol! Help me out here!” John shouted holding his son James in his arms, he was bleeding and crying. “Smashed his fucking head.”

As Ada rushed to get some clean towels, Polly tried to comfort the child.

Stepping away from the chaos, Tommy leaned against a column to think he actually hadn’t seen Y/N in almost a week. A million thoughts filling his mind, trying to find a reason for her to be distant.

He needed to know if she was alright because she had always been close to the family, she was always considered part of it to all their gatherings; she was there for them at Freddy’s funeral, at John’s wedding…

“Now that we’re here all together, I’ve something to say.” Arthur announced stepping on a chair, oblivious that Esme and Polly were taking care of a bleeding child.

As the room went quiet, Arthur announced he and Linda were expecting a baby.

“Congratulations.” Esme managed to blurr through gritted teeth. “Now help me hold James, because I need to rearrange his arm.”

As Arthur walked past Tommy, his brother patted his arm and mumbled a low congratulations.

But the thought of Y/N not being with them, stuck in his head.

Y/N felt like sleeping on the couch. Her feet were swollen, Lady Winchester lost one of her precious earrings and decided to put everyone in the search until they found it under her vanity hours later.

Oddly her family decided to stay up late apparently as she could see the candles still on. But just as she set one foot inside, her mother pushed her abruptly.

“You’re a dishonorable daughter! We gave you everything!” One of her hands intended to land on her cheek but hit her on her ear instead.

“What happened?”

“Y-your aunt says you’re with a child, she saw you this morning and came to ask me.” Y/N’s mother was furious.

A woman came into view, her sister poking her head from the kitchen as her mother pushed her into the room next to it and closed the door. She demanded Y/N to undress and started touching her breasts.

“She’s with a child.” The elder woman confirmed, her hands still on her breasts.

Y/N’s face got paler by the second. Her mother gave the woman money and asked discretion.

A heavy silence filled the room, Y/N could hear a pin drop if someone threw one. Dizziness swept over her as her palms started to sweat.

“Your father will be so disappointed by you.” Her mother sentenced firmly. “You’re a whore, this sin will follow you from now on.”

Blood went to Y/N’s feet and she had to grab the vanity for support.

“You’ll tell Scott tomorrow and get him to ask your father’s permission to marry you before you start showing.” Y/N could hear her mother’s words as if she was underwater.

“I’ll save him the embarrassment, perhaps you can go to your grandmother’s house and hide there…” she was pacing the room as a maniac, Y/N was starting to process everything, she could hardly breathe.

“I didn’t know I could get pregnant without being married.”

Y/N’s mother laughed sarcastically. “It’s too late for that now, you should’ve waited until you got married!”

“You never told me this could happen.” Y/N felt on the edge of tears.

“I educated you with values, God only knows what you learned from that friend of yours.” Her mother mumbled something else Y/N couldn’t understand. Slowly she sat on the carpet, her skirt pooled around her hips and she finally sobbed. When one day Scott touched her breasts and it felt nice, electricity ran through her body. But he stopped right there. Then after taking her to the river, one of his hands sneaked under her skirt and moved her intimate clothes to the side and her body trembled. A week after that, he was about to start a fight with Tommy, for the night when they arrived after visiting Tommy’s new house. So in an attempt to make up for that fight, he took her to the river again and after kissing her, he told her he wanted to do something else. It had been over a month since she stepped in the middle of Tommy and Scott.

Y/N didn’t know she could feel such pleasure until he introduced himself into her body and she exploded of ecstasy. It felt right, he said he loved her and they went back a few days later.

Scott had said this should be between just the two of them, just as their love. But he never told her she could get pregnant.

Worry kept her up all night. She felt sorry for her poor father.

Covering her face with her hands, Y/N felt the tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

“Scott,” Y/N breathed with relief, all the worry from the past days when she hadn’t been able to reach out soon, forgotten. “I need to talk to you.”

“Y/N… I’ve to rest, haven’t had a decent sleep yet. Can we talk about this another day?” He had been out of the city, busy with God knows what, but this was important for her, for them, for their future.

Y/N studied their surroundings carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“We’re going to have a child, Scott I’m carrying your baby.” She whispered.

Scott blinked unamused by the news, his nostrils expanding profusely. Y/N wanted to reach out, to throw herself in his arms but as they were outside his house, she had to control herself. Keep her distance with him and behave accordingly.

But when he took a step back, she felt confused.

“I-I’m… this must be a mistake.”

“No, no. There’s a baby growing inside me.” She repeated, keeping her voice down. “We’ll need to figure out about the wedding, it’ll have to be something intimate and soon before it starts showing…”

“I’m not going to marry you.” Scott scoffed. “How can I be sure this child is mine? You could’ve slept with someone else just as you did with me.” He mocked her.

Before she could stop herself, Y/N found her hand flying to his cheek. Her palm tingled after the slap she gave him.

“How could you say something like that?”

“Don’t you ever dare to fucking touch me again!” He snapped. “And as for this little inconvenient… I’m not taking responsibility, you’re on your own.”

He gave her a disgusted look and walked inside his house. Leaving Y/N turned into a crying mess, she was hurt and disappointed by his reaction and terrified of the outcome.

Her mother sent her to talk to Scott to arrange the terms of the wedding and now she just realized he didn’t have her back. But what was worse, he thought she would sleep around like a whore.

Folding her arms, she walked with her head down. Guilt and embarrassment written all over her face. How would she deal with this? How would she tell her mother what Scott just said? She had been so sure she’d be able to hide it from her father by marrying Scott but now she was left in the worst possible way.

She cried uncontrollably feeling defeated, it was now too late to do something, but at the same time she didn’t know how she’d take care and raise a baby by herself.

“Where’s Scott?” Her mother hissed when her daughter appeared in her eyesight.

Y/N couldn’t speak, something heavy made her walk slowly. Her whole world was crashing down and now she’d have to face the consequences.

“He told me he wouldn’t take responsibility for a child who might not be his.” As the words left her mouth, she started crying again.

“Of course he would say that! What did you think Y/N?!” Her mother exploded. “He must think the worst of you now, how easily you have yourself away to him!”

“He told me he loved me!” Managed to shout through her tears and sobs.

Her mother’s hand flew rapidly and hit her hard.

A heavy silence surrounded them. Her cheek was burning from her mother’s slap.

“Leave Y/N!” Her grandmother intervened.

“She deserved that.” Her mother explained, she was beyond angry.

Y/N’s grandmother wrapped an arm around her granddaughter protectively.

“What happened?”

“Tell her, go on… tell your grandmother what you did.”

Y/N kept her head down, she felt like she couldn’t look her grandmother in the eyes. She had failed them terribly, the values and principles they had showed her were thrown through the window.

“No? Well, I’ll tell her myself.” Her mother warned. “Y/N didn’t wait until marriage, she gave herself away like a whore and is now with a child. Couldn’t keep her legs closed.”

“Well we’ll think of something, she won’t start showing right away.”

“There’s nothing to think mother, Scott is out of the picture he didn't accept the responsibility.”

“But he’s as responsible as Y/N.” Her grandmother pointed out thinking this wasn’t fair on Y/N.

“Your granddaughter’s honor is right on the floor, he even suggested the baby isn’t his.”

Y/N saw her mother pacing around the small room, it was making her feel sick.

“And your father arrives tomorrow… should we send her with your sister to Durham?” She pondered the possibilities thinking of her mother’s sibling.

“Absolutely not.” Her grandmother defended.

“Then what? What are we going to do?”

Y/N felt sick and rushed away from them. Her head was pounding, her stomach in a tight knot and her heart shattered into million pieces.

“Ma’am you can’t go in there.” Tommy heard from outside his office, then saw the door swing open.

“Mr. Shelby you’re the only one who can help me.”

Tommy rose to his feet in a second, the worry he found in Y/N’s grandmother raised all the alarms.

“What happened?”

“My son in law is hitting Y/N badly.” Her voice cracked, her hands reached for the sleeve of his suit. “You’ve to help her.”

Tommy took his coat from the rack and rushed to see what was happening.

“John, get Polly and meet me in Y/N’s house.” He demanded.

“I’ll go with them Mr. Shelby.” Y/N’s grandmother expressed, not wanting to make him wait.

Tommy doubted for a second, but with her hand, the elder woman ushered him, so it must be serious. Stepping in Y/N’s house without knocking because he heard her cries and pained screams from outside, but Tommy wasn’t prepared to find what he’d see.

Y/N was in the middle of the living room half her clothes shattered, kneeling on the floor and her upper body leaned over a chair, her back covered by the belt marks and blood.

He felt a rush of anger and disgust through his body. Tommy could practically taste his bile in his mouth, but as Y/N’s father was about to hit her again, he stepped in his way, holding the man’s hand firmly in the air.

“You touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Stay out of this Shelby, I’m dealing with this whore.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself or you’ll regret it.” Tommy muttered through gritted teeth.

John joined him with a couple of some of their men, they went straight to hold Y/N’s father away from her.

Y/N winced in pain when Tommy tried to help her up.

“This is a family matter!” Y/N’s mother shouted disturbed for the interruption. “You should respect that.”

“Yeah? Just like you’re respecting your daughter?” Tommy snapped, he lost all self control over this injustice.

“She has to deal with the consequences of her acts! Behaved like a whore, gets punished like one.”

Y/N felt her mother’s words like daggers to her heart. She wasn’t sure what felt more hurtful; her father’s hitting her with his belt or her mother’s words.

Tommy felt like throwing up, he apologized when he got Y/N in his arms and she complained from the pain.

“You can’t take her away!” Her mother warned, trying to stop Tommy.

He gave her a warning stare and mumbled; “watch me.”

Part 2

Divider

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[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 19

Donquixote Doflamingo + Dom/Sub

Readers a snow leopard mink, because ive never ever seen a fic with a mink reader in it. Reader is also 7ft5. I didn’t have too much time to write today, so I did what I could.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Donquixote Doflamingo was not a man who gave up control, be it in business, piracy, or his private life. Or rather, he used to be. There was one person he had let himself submit too, somebody no one would ever suspect. Minks had a tendency to stay away from most of the world, so who would ever come to the conclusion that the one person Doflamingo gave himself up too was a snow leopard mink.

Doflamingo was also not the type to go down without a fight, meaning you two got all battered and bruised before everything was settled. For the most part, the situation was ever only truly settled when you got the seastone cuffs on him, if not the collar you had specially made for someone his size.

The first many times, Doflamingo had panicked when he felt his connection to his powers flicker out as his body grew heavy, weak, and sluggish. As someone who never wanted to be weak in any way, it was scary. The blonde tried his damnest to not let this fear show, but there was a tension to his usual grin and bulging forehead vein.

In the beginning it was a slow process of simply getting comfortable. You were very comfortable for the most part, not even having to undress to spend this time with him. And when he got a bit too worked up, you were always able to calm him with your paws or tail.

Doflamingo didn’t have many enemies that were mink, once again blamed on the fact that mink stayed out of most business outside their own. Which meant that when he started getting antsy and tense, feeling your fur and paws helped settle him again.

Much of the dynamic you two had built, was based on trust, which was in short supply for the both of you, making the process of building what you had even longer. It was especially hard for Doflamingo to trust you to even let you tie him up, much more to put the seastone on him. For a long time, there had to be mechanisms built into the cuffs or collar so that he could pull it off himself.

It took even longer for it to become more, to become hotter and carnal. You two still did it when there wasn’t that heavy dynamic about it, even if it regularly resulted in you two just as bloody and bruised up.

Doflamingo would regularly walk out of your normal get togethers covered in claw marks and bites, his bruises so much clearer than yours, which laid under your fur. He had complained about it multiple times, that Doflamingo couldn’t leave hickeys on you, hed even gone as far as you suck one onto your paw pads, just to return the favour in some way.

But slowly, over time, something fragile but true was built between you. it even reached a point where Doflamingo would contact you when he needed “your assistance”. You had almost felt your heart flutter when Doflamingo even started coming to you, curling his big height down against your side or by your feet, his hands searching out your tail to pet at it for comfort.

Yeah, there were times he needed you to forcefully take control, but there were also those rarer times where the mighty Doflamingo just needed to be held, to be someone not so powerful and important. This was when Doflamingo brought in different toys or items, like a blindfold and earmuffs, even different mittens and leg clamps to leave him completely at your mercy.

He had looked so meek and downright shy the first time he brought out the bit. It looked like the kinda thing you put in a horse’s mouth, even with a lead attached, along with everything else. It had been such a sign of the trust you had been trying to build, that your tail flicked quickly from side to side as your fur puffed up.

It gave you a sense of carnal power, to be able to slowly walk around the room carrying the lead, Doflamingo crawling after you completely blind, deaf, and mute. The bit did nothing to contain his moans and groans, or to stop all the drool and spit dripping from his mouth as he licked at the material, searching for something more.

He was almost sweet as Doflamingo curled up on his giant bed, resting his head on your furry stomach as you ran your paw through his hair. It was endearing in a way, to see how he rubbed his head up and down, trying to smoosh or maybe suffocate himself against you. It left you with a feeling that if he happened to be a mink, he must have been purring.

His drooling was a little out of hand, as it always left your fur soaked, but what could you expect from a man who stuck his tongue out as much as Doflamingo did. It was a no brainer that Doflamingo liked to use his mouth, it was a need that ran deep, he just needed something in his mouth to focus on.

Having paws and fur always made it a little awkward to give him your fingers, even if Doflamingo licked and sucked at them with a happy muffled moan. Having him kiss and pamper your paw pads was a bit easier, since there was actual skin he could lick at and attach himself too, but even they grew raw at times from his insistent need.

You never thought hed actually go along with licking your boots when you ordered him too the first time. Your paw pads were simply suckled raw and aching, as hed been on them for the past hour or two. Some deal must have driven him up into a corner which was why he needed to be taken somewhere else.

Afterwards Doflamingo would deny liking it, gaining faint whisps of red in his cheeks if you as much as mentioned it, but your boots still became a more regular part of your time together. Most of the time what you did together wasn’t even anything too lewd, it was more just leaning into the dynamic you both needed. You needing to feel in control and to care for somebody, and Doflamingo needing to give away responsibility for a while.

Neither of you spoke much about it outside of the bedroom, or wherever you two found yourself this time. You were both your own people with your own business and duties, too busy to let the dynamic play a role in the daily like. Even if Doflamingos zebra print pants were replaced with snow leopard spots, and even if you started keeping a couple of pink feathers in your pocket.

[charlottesbookclub]

ser gwayne hightower fluff alphabet 💚💚

Summary: just what it says on the tin: fluff alphabet for my boy gwayne (do people still do these anymore? idc I'm doing it bc I love reading them and I thought I'd try writing one myself 😌😌)

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader; spouse!reader; established relationship (marriage); we are all going to have fluff-induced cavities after this, I fear (it's more absolute tooth-rotting fluff, y'all!); let me know if I've missed anything! ☺️

Words: 2985

Author’s Note: I'm meeting with my phd advisor today which is going to be totally fine (she is so super sweet) but my brain decided we were going to have major anxiety about it, and what better way to distract myself than by writing fluff for gwayne!! 🥰💚 I've never done one of these before, but I always enjoyed reading them, so I thought I'd try it myself! ☺️ I like that it lets me explore his character without having the pressure of a plot lol

as always, I hope y'all enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!! ☺️💕

template by: magical-warlock

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Honestly anything. I feel like if it was something you enjoyed, Gwayne would find himself enjoying it too, just because you were happy. But I think like he would really like going on leisurely walks or horse rides together. It’s an activity that allows you to talk and get to know one another, but where you can also explore the beauty of a garden or forest together. I could totally see him bringing a book along and reading it aloud to you under a tree.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Everything lmao. But your eyes stand out to him, especially when he can read all the things you don’t say out loud in them. I feel like he would also appreciate intellect, common sense, and wit. He is clearly sooooo done with Criston’s weird dumb bullshit, and I think someone who was rational and level-headed but not afraid to crack a joke or two (especially at Criston’s expense lmaooooo) would be really appealing to him.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

My mans would not be much help at first because he’s freaking out too. He wouldn’t want to see you in any kind of distress, especially if he’s not sure where it came from or what’s causing it. I think if it happened more than once and you talked about it and expressed what you needed, he would be more than willing to do whatever you needed from him. My sense is that his first reaction (after the initial freak out) would just be to hold you really tightly and whisper reassurances to you until you were feeling better.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Given the society that Gwayne lives in, his expectations have kind of been set for him in the sense that his future is pretty much expected to involve marriage and children. And honestly, I get the sense that this isn’t something he’s necessarily opposed to. Especially since he found you and realizes he gets to marry someone he actually loves, he’d be pretty thrilled about the whole prospect. It just doesn’t seem like life on miliary campaign is something he’s super jazzed about, so his ideal future would likely be just settling down with you in Oldtown. 

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

I think it’s pretty mixed, especially depending on the context. Again, given the societal expectations placed on him, I do think he might tend to be a little more dominant (especially if he thinks/knows that he’s right about something) but I also don’t think he would ever force you to do something you didn’t want to. He’d also back off on just about any subject if he noticed you were getting upset about it. I also think it really depends on your temperament, since I think he could really go either way depending on what energy you brought to the relationship.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

It would be really hard for him to stay mad at you (and vice versa). Unless it was something truly awful, I just don’t think he could stay upset with you for very long. As we’ve already established, he’s a pretty rational person who seems to value clear communication, so I think “fights” with him would be more like difficult discussions about hard issues rather than an actual fight. This is really nice because then you both get to speak your mind and actually come out with a better understanding of the other person and a stronger relationship because of it.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

I do tend to think that he’s a pretty grateful person, but I think he’s better at showing it than saying it sometimes. Not that he can’t verbalize his gratitude – he totally can – I just think that gestures come more naturally to him (like winning a tourney in your honor, buying you something extravagant, taking you on a nice trip, etc.)

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Yes and no. If there was something he knew that would put you in danger if you knew it, he would not tell you. He would never forgive himself if something happened as a result. Pretty much anything else though, he’ll tell you. He won’t always offer everything, but I think he would have a hard time lying to you or keeping things from you if you asked about them. Depending on what it was, he might tell you a sanitized version of the story because he doesn’t want you to worry, but he’d be as honest as he felt he could be in the moment.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?

I think in any good relationship (romantic, platonic, or otherwise) people change each other for the better. Gwayne is no exception to this, and I think it’s likely that he picks up habits from you (just as you do from him). I can definitely see that if he had you as a confidante to rant about Criston or just to express his worries and doubts about politics, his family, etc. that he might be a little less overtly antagonistic and instead might just smile and nod a little more but internally be like “wait til my s/o hears about this fucking bullshit.” He’d definitely still give Critston attitude tho

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Yes and no. Gwayne is a fairly confident person, and I think he feels pretty comfortable with himself and with his relationship with you for the most part. However, I don’t think he’s immune to jealously, especially if it were to seem like another person was paying you a bit too much attention. In that scenario, I’m sure he’d have some quip at that person’s expense and whisk you away or be very obvious about using your title as his spouse. The one thing that might make him feel truly insecure is if it seemed like you were becoming interested in someone else. But let’s be real, if you get to marry Ser Gwayne Hightower, that’s not fucking happening 

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Oh, he’s definitely a good kisser. I don’t think he was one to have a lot of trysts prior to meeting you (despite his bravado, I think he really values an emotional or intellectual connection to the person he’s with, meaning I don’t think many of the flings he might have had made it all the way to the hook-up stage). But he’s a handsome man who likely had a lot of admirers, and I do think he got a bit of practice with kissing in his youth. He’s absolutely very attentive to what you like, so I think he’s only gotten to be an even better kisser over the course of your relationship. In terms of your first kiss with him, these lyrics from “All My Love” by Noah Kahan are very applicable here: “I leaned in for a kiss thirty feet from where your parents slept / and I looked so confident, babe / I swear, I was scared to death.” Especially early on, I think he really wanted to project this confident and suave vibe that he totally knew what he was doing, but as soon as he realized he was in love with you, he was actually a nervous wreck and desperately did not want to mess it up. 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

re: Gwayne’s penchant for gestures, I have a feeling he had a whole well-written speech planned out (he based it on the dramatic love confessions he read in old ballads). However, despite all his preparation, I think the confession actually ended up just slipping out one time when you were together and he couldn’t keep it in any longer. He probably stumbled over his words and was very embarrassed about it and his face turned bright pink, but it was so adorable and endearing that you actually preferred it to whatever speech he might have had planned.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the wedding be like?

As I mentioned above, I think that marriage is pretty much a given for Gwayne considering the realities of the culture in which he lives. He also probably didn’t propose in the traditional sense, since the marriage was likely arranged, but I can absolutely envision him proposing to you privately after the betrothal has been officially announced and after he’s spent enough time with you to realize that he is genuinely in love with you. It would be sort of a love confession/proposal where he basically says “I know you were chosen by others to be my spouse, but I also personally choose you because I love you.” The wedding would be fairly large and befitting of his rank and station, and it’s likely that neither of you would have much choice in how it was conducted. Gwayne definitely likes the idea of a large and fairly public wedding because it’s a way for him to show his pride for both his house and his betrothed.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Very sweet things! Mostly “my dear,” “my love,” and “dearheart,” with a sprinkle of “my darling” mixed in on occasion.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?

He gets very love-struck, especially when he’s with you. Spending time with you is like spending time in another world for him, and I do think he becomes a little more uninhibited when he’s around you. If people watch the two of you together, his lovesickness is pretty obvious to anyone who knows him. Even if they speak to just him, they might notice slight changes, like the fact that he talks about you a lot and always finds a way to bring you into the conversation. He’s careful though, and would never reveal the depths of his affection for you to someone who might you it against him or hurt you to get back at him. In terms of expressing feelings, as I mentioned above, I get the sense that he’s one for gestures that demonstrate his feelings. He gets nervous and stumbles over his words more than usual when he tries to verbalize things to you, and that’s an unusual and uncomfortable experience for him at first. The longer you’re together though, the better he gets at it.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag about their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Because your betrothal and marriage are pretty much public knowledge, Gwayne definitely feels comfortable being upfront about the relationship. And oh he totally brags. He’s very proud to call you his spouse and is not afraid to make sure everyone knows about it. Based on societal and cultural expectations, I don’t think there would be a lot of open PDA (like hugs, kisses on the lips, etc.). But hand kisses?????????? All the fucking time babeyyyyyyy!!!!!!!! So many kisses on the knuckles wherever and whenever – it’s his favorite little gesture of affection

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Mans is a killer shit talker. We know this. He can and will throw shade with the best of them. He wants to know all the drama in your friend circle and will happily judge everyone with you for hours. That one “friend” of yours who turned out to be wildly toxic and conniving? Well he never liked them anyway and he’s got a bulletpointed list of reasons why. You start a conversation with “can I be mean for a moment?” or “you know I love this person, but…” and he is SAT. He’s always on your side and ready to talk absolute shit about anyone who caused you even a minor inconvenience. 

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

At the end of the day, he’s something of a hopeless romantic and would do whatever he could to make you happy. There are a lot of times when the cultural and societal realities of the world he lives in prevent him from doing everything he might want, but if it came down to it, he would do almost anything for you. A lot of his romantic gestures are a little cliché, but in the best, most endearing way possible. As he gets to know you though, and as your relationship matures, he’ll probably get a little more creative and do things that are more specific to the two of you.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Believes in you and supports you 100000% no question. Again though, I think this impulse can be a bit hampered by the social structures in which he lives. He’ll do whatever he can to help you achieve your goals, but there are limits based on birth, status, etc. that you are both cognizant of and which might influence what those goals look like and how far either of you would go to achieve them.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

We’re talking about Ser “I’d rather stay at a comfy inn than camp out” Gwayne Hightower here – I think he appreciates a level of routine and comfort. There’s so much in his world that is chaotic and out of his control that I think he would really relish having that consistency and stability in his relationship. Not that he would never try anything new – especially if you asked him to – I just think his natural inclination would be to have a comforting routine that works for both of you.

U nderstanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Considering he picked up on Alicent and Criston’s weird vibes in like 5 seconds, I’d say he’s pretty good at reading people. He definitely makes an effort to get to know you, and can confidently say that he knows you very well at this point. Especially since you’re someone he cares about and spends a lot of time with, he’s quite good at reading your moods and guessing how you’re feeling.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Very important. Again though, there are cultural expectations placed on both of you that may necessitate you and Gwayne placing your relationship further down your list of priorities than you normally would choose to. If it were completely up to him though, his relationship with you would be right up there at the top with his loyalty to his house and his family.

W ild Card - A random fluff headcanon

I talked about this much more extensively in this fic, but the necklace you gave him? He. Does. Not. Take. It. Off. EVER. It’s his little piece of you that he gets to carry everywhere, and he could never ever bear to part with it.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In private, abso-fucking-lutely! As I mentioned in the PDA section, he’s more retrained in public, but still likes to demonstrate his affection for you via hand kisses. In private though, he loves to cuddle. And honestly, he doesn’t really care where or in what position – curled up in bed, sprawled on a couch, his head in your lap, you tucked against his chest – he just likes to be touching you and knowing that you’re right there next to him, that you’re safe, and that you love him.

Y earning - How do they cope when they’re missing their partner?

It’s a reality he has to face more than he would like, given the exterior expectations placed on him. If he had his way, he would live quietly with you at his family’s property near Oldtown forever. When he has to leave though, he always asks for your favor to take with him, regardless of how long you’ve been together or how many times you’ve bestowed it. As mentioned above, he also always wears the necklace you gave him. Definitely a top tier professional yearner though – he misses you and thinks of you the whole time he’s gone.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

This answer will be pretty similar to the answer for “V” – yes he is, but he also has to be cognizant of outside pressures that might cause him to act in ways that don’t always align with his personal inclinations. He would both die and kill for you though, not that you’re asking him to do either. In fact, you’re usually telling him not to do either of those things.

[unoislazy]

I am feral for Mizu and you’ve been feeding me well with your Mizu fics so thank you so much for your service!! 💕💕💕💕💗💗💗💗💗 i really enjoy your writing and the way you portray Mizu. With that said i wanna run a scenario by you and im just wondering how do you think it’d play out (if you like the idea enough to do a mini fic or headcanons that’d be awesome but if not then that’s okay and i understand 💕) hear me out, what if Mikio had a sister and she lived with him and Mizu during the time they were married, say her and Mizu bonded while they all live together but then their friendship blossoms into romantic love 🥺 how do you think that’d play out?

I Am No Coward

(Part 1)

Mizu x Fem! Reader

A/N: all of you guys are so nice and I love all of you. Thank you for the suggestion! This will be around a 4 part series that I hope to continue working on in the near future so BUCKLE UP

Also!

I am planning on making a Mizu x Black reader soon but I’m struggling on deciding a scenario for it. If anyone has any suggestions they won’t be to try out for it, I’ll take them with open arms!

Summary: You’re Mikio’s sister and todays the day you meet his new bride to be.

————————————————————

Days were quiet with you and your older brother Mikio. After you had been put under his care and he had been outcasted by the lord, you both lived on his land more on the countryside, away from those who would cast their unwanted opinions on to you.

You usually took care of the more mundane tasks, cooking, cleaning; Things Mikio never truly liked to do. He wasn’t against helping but he was usually too busy with the horses to ever truly give you a hand. You knew your brother was obsessed with trying to win back the favor of the Shogun and as much as you knew it wasn’t going to happen, you let him believe anyways.

Time went on as usual until one day Mikio had returned home with some news.

“I’ve been offered a wife.” He said plainly as he took off his cape. You stopped cutting the vegetables and turned to him with a smile.

“That’s great… right?” You smiled hopefully. Given that he was now deemed an outcast and he was an older man it was unlikely that he would find any matches at this point, so you were just pleased that someone had been offered.

“She has the eyes of an onryo.” Was all he said in response before walking over to you. He kneeled down, watching what you were doing with a watchful yet critical eye. He adjusted your hand, suggesting that you had been cutting wrong in the first place.

“And that’s a problem?” You asked, your smile dropping for a moment as you rolled your eyes at his wordless suggestion. You knew he truly had no say in what opportunities were offered to him, you both did. If he had anything to gain, he should take it. He sighed for a moment, looking down before answering,

“No, She’ll be here in three days.”

Your smile returned, pleased to know that at least your brother would experience something other than the constant stress of trying to win back his honor.

You didn’t care what his wife would look like, she could have blue eyes, green hair, and purple skin for all you cared. All you cared about was your brother being happy, and you hoped she would be the key to that.

Mikio used to be a much more upbeat man. He liked to bring light to dreary situations with a joke or some laughter, but he always knew when to keep it serious. However, after he had been outcasted it seemed like all the fun parts of him disappeared. He became so hellbent on training the horses to be the best they could be that he forgot to have fun or indulge himself in anything. You used to enjoy spending time with him and you were elated when you realized you would be put under his care, but that joy soon subsided when you realized just the effect a bruised ego can have on a man. He became closed off, irritable, and would barely even give you the time of day. He cared about nothing more than his honor and as much as you tried not to, you began to resent him for it.

But you kept your thoughts to yourself and went on with your life, hoping someone would come along and change him.

The three days had passed and it was time for his new bride to arrive.

And Mikio was nowhere in sight.

You sighed, disappointed in him, believing he was avoiding yet another responsibility that seemed to ‘get in the way’ of his horses. Even if you had suggested anything, he wouldn’t listen to you, he knew what was best for him.

At least that’s what he claimed.

You sat quietly outside your house, waiting patiently for the woman to arrive so you could greet her. If anything you were ecstatic to meet the mystery woman and you hoped you’d manage to get along with her.

It hadn’t taken long for you to see them approaching. The two women walked towards your direction, both holding two bags, presumably full of their belongings. However, the younger woman seemed to also be holding what looked like a sheathed sword.

You smiled, now standing and walking down the steps, excited to meet the woman. You watched as the two women made their way towards you, one older and one younger. The older woman had turned to face the house that you stood before and spotted you, giving you a wide smile before turning back to the younger woman who seemed reluctant to continue following.

You couldn’t blame her.

Marriage wasn’t something a woman had control over in your world, you just got lucky that you got placed under your brother's care; because of him you were also considered ‘disgraced’ so not many men would truly want you.

She finally made her way, after many unpleasant words from her mother, and stood at her full height with a very plain expression.

She was beautiful.

You examined her features for as long as you could deem polite, your eyes floated from her hair, to her dress, taking in her height, and then lastly taking notice of her eyes.

However, when it came to her eyes, you didn’t see the eyes of an onryo. You saw eyes that reflected a color you saw only in the sky above, you had never seen such eyes before, but you needn’t stare and make the woman uncomfortable, she just got here after all.

You walked towards the two women, an excited smile on your face as you greeted them.

“Hello! You must be the woman Mikio’s going to marry. What’s your name?” You asked happily, the woman stared at you for a moment, clearly in some inner battle with herself on what to do now that she’s in this position. You waited patiently, understanding that being forced to marry someone is not always the happiest thing to do so you did not want to push her.

Her mother, however, cleared her throat and sent a glare at the woman, you assumed from this she was the one who had set up this offer.

The woman sighed, looking back towards you and answering,

“Mizu, my name is Mizu.” She waited for a moment before looking at you, expecting you to say something before speaking up again and asking, “and you are?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m Mikio’s sister.” You introduced yourself, you did give them your name but you figured it would be more helpful for them to know why you were there in the first place. With this new information Mizu seemed to relax just the slightest bit. Maybe she thought you were a concubine.

Gross.

“So, Where is the man?” Mizu’s mother asked, seemingly wanting to get the show on the road as she turned to you expectantly. You averted your gaze, a bit embarrassed as you answered,

“I’m actually not sure.”

With that answer both of the women stared at you like you were crazy.

“You may or may not be happy to know that Mikio often isn’t home. He’s usually out training his horses.” You explained, trying to subdue the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

As if on cue, you could hear the thumping of hooves accompanied by the sound of a horse's whinny. You all turned to the source of the noise which just so happened to be the aforementioned man. You sighed a small sigh of relief, thankful that he didn’t make himself look too bad.

You snuck a small glance at Mizu, wanting to gauge her reaction to your brother and you noticed that her fists were balled up tightly and her face was scrunched. Just like you had expected, the marriage wasn’t her idea. You hoped to the gods your brother wouldn’t ruin this opportunity, if not for his sake than for yours, you were tired of only having his company and truly wanted someone else to be around.

Mikio yields his horse, stopping just in front of Mizu. The first words he uttered were,

“You’re not as hideous as I expected.”

If you could’ve gotten up on that horse and smacked the life out of that man, you would’ve. It didn’t have to be love at first sight but out of all the things to say when he first meets his soon to be wife, and that's what he says? In that moment you were disappointed to have introduced him as your brother.

“You’re a lot older than I expected.” Mizu responded, earning a quiet snicker from you. Between you and your brother there was a decent age difference. If anything you were closer to Mizu’s age which was quite weird in your eyes but… it’s a sign of the times you guessed. Mikio shot you a silent glare telling you to shut up, which you did and you acted as if you had done nothing wrong.

“Let’s get this over with.” He said plainly, guiding his horse back to the field. You rolled your eyes, turning back to Mizu who just watched him go with a very obvious glare on her face.

“I’m sorry about him but if it's any consolation, you won’t have to deal with him alone.” You mentioned, trying to be at least a little encouraging. Mizu looked at you, her glare subsiding as she gave you a very small smile. With that, Mizu’s mother quickly began to rush her inside, wanting to get her ready to be wed before the sun went down. You offered your assistance in getting her ready, the entire time taking it as an opportunity to get to know Mizu.

“I noticed you brought a sword, do you know how to fight?” You asked curiously as you carefully brushed the white makeup across Mizu’s pale face. You couldn’t help but admire the woman's beauty, sure she might not have had the face of a princess, but to you that didn't mean anything. Her eyes of course were the main feature but you had also taken notice of the curl that stuck out from her hair that was pulled up.

“I fought a bit in the past… I don’t know how much I’ll keep up with it though.” She answered with a sigh but she regained her composure once she had looked over to her mother who glared at her.

“I don't know, Mikio might enjoy someone to fight with,” You began, gaining her interest a bit as she looked back up towards you. “And if he doesn't, then I would love to learn if you’d be willing to teach me.”

She gave another small smile, acknowledging your attempt to lighten her mood.

Once she had finished getting ready, her makeup was done, she was dressed in all white, you and her mother took a step back to assess how she looked.

“You look perfect!” You exclaimed to which her mother slightly nodded.

“You look fine, now where is your brother?” She asked impatiently. You turned to her, about to answer but Mikio had already walked in before you could say anything. He had taken off his cape that he wore everywhere and walked past you without saying a word. You sneered at him, he couldn't even try to make an effort? He was more of a grump than you ever remembered him being.

The private ceremony went on with the help of Mizu’s mother. You had no role in the ceremony so you simply sat back and watched. You looked on and for a strange reason you almost wanted to stop them… you felt as if one of them was making a mistake and all though it wasn’t entirely clear who, you could take a wild guess and probably be right. Regardless, you sat back. Your opinion in this matter doesn't matter anyways even if you did have the courage to go out and say it.

Immediately after they had finished, Mikio stood up, handed his dish over to Mizu, and went on his way. You could see the subtle yet dejected look that came across Mizu’s face and you felt a pang in your heart. Sure he might not know the woman very well but the least he could do is act as if he’s even the slightest bit interested. You quickly walked over to Mizu and took the dishes from her hands.

“I’ll take those, don’t worry about them.” You smiled at her, again trying to offer some sort of comfort or reassurance but this time it led to no avail. Her mother had decided it would be best to get her ‘ready for tonight’ so they both walked out and into a different room, as they walked out though the expression Mizu held had shifted to one of confusion or fear.

You sat quietly as you cleaned out the dishes that had been sitting around from hours prior. The resentment you felt for your brother only doubled down by seeing his actions first hand. Was he the most disrespectful man to ever walk the earth? No, but you still expected better from him, and when he arrived home you weren’t going to let him forget it.

A few hours had passed and the sun had set long before your brother had finally deemed it an appropriate enough time to come home. The moment he did you stood up from where you were sitting and walked over to him,

“Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it.” He said, already knowing you were going to complain. You looked at him up and down with a look of disgust, as if he had a choice in the matter.

“Well you're going to hear about it.” You argued.

“Can’t this wait?”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to complain about.”

“I don’t need to know what it is to know that it can wait for another time.”

“Oh sure, just so at that ‘other time’ you can shoo me away and say you have to take care of your horses, or you have work to do, or you're too busy.” You began to rant, much to Mikio’s dismay. This of course was not the first time you had gone off on him, and usually you were quite good at holding your tongue around him, usually his ego was too fragile to handle it, but you were not going to watch this woman sign her life with him just for him to look straight through her.

“You have been nothing but a slob and a grump all day and, I don’t know if you noticed, but you have a wife now. A wife that you called ‘not that hideous’ within two seconds of meeting her, are you serious?”

Mikio didn’t make a move to acknowledge any of your statements but you knew he was listening. You knew, even if it wasn’t exactly obvious, that he knew his actions were wrong, but Mikio was not the kind of man to admit to his failures and you knew that. You knew this argument would go nowhere but you at least hoped if he made a change, he would pretend he got himself to that conclusion.

“It’s not exactly like I’m marrying a princess.” He finally responded, his tone laced with sarcasm causing you to scoff.

“Any woman who has to be subjected to marrying you, deserves nothing less than to be treated like one, and if you wont, someone else will.” You spat, storming out of the room to leave the man with his thoughts, or lack thereof.

[sashi-ya]

東京 NIGHTS mini event

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑮𝑬ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓂃 ࣪˖ toji fushiguro x f! reader

⤹˚ synopsis. a miserable Toji founds the living image of his death wife in you, a sex worker at Kabukicho.

requested by: Anonymous ➡ omg i've been waiting for you to write for jjk!!! please Sashi, can you write an nsfw toji x f! reader with the prompt The red lights of Kabukichō. tw: MNDI. dark! content. reader is a sex worker from the kabukicho red district. toji has no respect for you. oral, rough, spanking, slapping, unprotected sex, cream pie implied, you look like Megumi's mom. first time I write for Toji pls be soft on me. wc: 2k masterlist

A lucky round, for the very first time at Pachinko. Fushiguro Toji feels pleased; he lies on the backrest of his seat, right in front of an old machine and next to many other people desperately trying to win something. The more desperate they get, the more they lose.

Poker, Mahjong, horse races. money, lose the money. lose your life, lose the time until it is over.

“It looks like you have a lot of luck tonight, mister” a woman whose face he simply ignores, paws his wide frame.

“Get off, bitch” he mutters, scaring her away with his sharp -but really tired- eyes.

The lady walks away, spitting expletives that Toji couldn’t hear -nor cared to do so-. However, consequences were about to hit him.

Two guys, or maybe gorillas, appeared right behind his seat. “Sir, I must ask you to leave” one of them says, trying to snatch him from behind, passing one of the arms around his neck.

Unfortunately for them, as well as for Toji, the strength and speed of his Zen’in body  allows him to not only avoid the attack but also smash the head of the aforementioned gorilla against the Pachinko machine.

“Fuck you” he grunts, knowing too damn well the aggression didn’t come because of him disrespecting a lady but rather because his “luck” wasn’t welcomed into their business.

Honestly, given the right moment, Toji would have killed them both in no time… but tonight was different; some years -he doesn’t even remember how many- have passed and today marked the anniversary of his wife passing.

Toji stole a bun from the guy that was sitting by his side and walked away from the Pachinko parlor before the astonished looks of the people there. Nobody dared to follow him, they knew death would find them if they dared to mess a single second more with that man.

His steel blue eyes shine red as the lights of Kabukichō receive him in their sensual embrace. The attractive concupiscence of beautiful women dancing on windows catches his attention, but no woman is enough to make him feel any type of pleasure.

He is well aware of the many scams there, but he is sure nobody could scam him more than he could scam them.

Many women and men come closer, wearing revealing suggesting outfits; they touch him, they call him inside their “shops”. Yet, Toji still walks unaware, as if possessed. Some even offer him their services for free, his handsomeness is undeniable; his strong physique, delicious and tempting.

“Sir, sir!” you call him, tapping insistently on his wide shoulder. “SIR!” you repeat, as he seems not to hear anything around.

Toji turns around, all of a sudden, grabbing your hand to stop poking him. “What the fuck do you want, I don’t wanna fuck you… you…” he angrily barks, stopping immediately after watching your face.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to… your… your wallet just fell from your pants” you tell him, scared and feeling the tight grip intensify around your wrist.

His eyes burn holes into yours, his expression turns troubled, darker. He is not blinking, and perhaps even not breathing.

“Do you work here?” he asks. “It’s my first night… I was promoting that- bar” you point out to the entrance of a quite ratchet facility of red and pink lights and semi naked woman pictures on their walls.  “I… your wallet” you murmur, showing him the black ragged leathery pouch that feels light and empty.

He lets your arm go and takes the wallet with absolutely no interest. His eyes, however, never let go of your face… you must be an interest to him?

“You… what’s your surname?” he asks, as if he was waiting to hear something revealing.

You frown; why would a complete stranger ask for your surname? Men in here only want one thing, and to them what’s your name is totally irrelevant for that purpose.

“It’s (Surname)” you tell him, either way. You had nothing to lose, after all.

He seems relieved but also a little disappointed. Truth is, that you look incredibly similar to his late wife… “Come here, I want you” he simply states, pulling from your hand to the inside of your work place.

You follow him with no time to say no… you wouldn’t say no anyway.

There is not much your boss can do either; he is in fact pleased to know that right after he hired you, you have already given him a client.

You open the door to the “rooms”. Precarious looking places that no man cares about as they only care the true purpose of his visit.

Once inside one of them, you close the door, and the red lights bathe both of your bodies as if it was a blood bath.

“Sir, which service would yo-“ you ask, but you are immediately silenced by his hand on your mouth. He pushes you to a round bed, making your back hit violently the mattress. You blink twice before he could pounce into you.

Toji is big enough to smash you with his body, and you honestly would love to die underneath his prominent chest tonight.

“I don’t care about the services you give, spread those legs” he orders, slapping the inner side of your knees.

You let your legs open wide, falling to each side. The short skirt you were wearing invites him to taste you; the buffed man with a scar on his lip sees everything you have to offer.

He smirks, so dark. And then, takes his black shirt off. His body is by far better than what you thought that tight shirt had already revealed to you. Each muscle perfectly showing like it’s been sculpted on his skin. The wide shoulders and prominent collarbones and pecs… he is the total embodiment of carnal desire.

Toji’s brute hands rip your almost transparent thong now; the elastic band snapping on your hipbone makes you squirm owning yourself to get his hand around your neck. “Stay still, bitch. You will have enough time to squirm around once I fuck you”

Your insides tremble, your core tenses. Such a disrespect makes you hornier instead of mad.

“Y-yes…” you stutter, finishing your words with a loud moan as his fingers penetrate you. Your back arches, and the more it does, the more he squeezes your neck.  

With lack of air and probably blue lips, your eyes turn white from pleasure. Your legs tend to close but you can’t as Toji prevents them to shutting.

“Hold on there, don’t close them. I need to prep you, you are too tight to me” he spits, reaching deeper with curled beckoning fingers hitting your top wall. You clench to the sheets, coffing and trying to grasp for some air… this man will kill you, and you will be smiling at him.

He takes his fingers out of you, giving you some seconds to rest. You watch your own arousal dripping down his hand and forearm. Toji sticks his tongue out in a disgusting, yet absolutely sexy way, and licks your salty products right from there.

“Not as good as my wife, but still good” he murmurs, leaving you startled… he has a wife?

Well, not exactly.

He turns you around from your right ankle, this man’s strength surpasses any limits. Your face hit the mattress, leaving you a little bit dizzy from the fall. Immediately after you could react, you feel two big hands lifting your ass from under your lower belly.

Knees carved on the bed, and also head as one of his heavy hands pass from your waist to your nape.

You sense two fingers spreading your folds, and the wet tongue of him licking from your clit to your ass. He has absolutely no decorum to do it, he does it so disgustingly lustful. Toji’s nose buries in your perineum as he sometimes focuses on your throbbing clit, sucking hard until your inner thighs begin to spasm and tremble.

Some spanks are added, that leave your cheeks burning. He goes even down, hitting the back of your thighs, a place that hurts but makes it even better. You are sure by now you must have created a pool of your fluids underneath you, and if not… well, you are most likely about to.

“Ehj… so wet…” he pants once he stops eating you out.

With difficulty you see him through the mirrored walls cleaning his mouth with the back of his forearm. Slanted eyes peek through black strands of hair, they meet yours and It’s both scary and hot.

Toji smirks, so devilishly and turns you once again around from your leg. You are like a mere doll to him.

He buries his fingers in your cheeks, making your lips pout and your eyes widen. You are still panting, so your breathing sounds loudly in between your fingers and a drop of saliva pools right in the middle of your lower lip.

That man has the look of a murderer, of a devil. With just one hand he gets rid of his grey pants along with his underwear. Your eyes confirm why he mentioned the need of you getting “prepped” as he exhibits his hard sex.

Purplish tip, veiny. It is not gigantic, but still constitutes a challenge for anyone to be able to take it. He is not going slow, nor carefully… and you know that for sure.

“I’m going raw, hope you are ready to become a single mother” he lets you know, as if you didn’t know already. You limit yourself to nod. You are honestly more worried for the integrity of your insides than that.

Toji kneels on the bed, sitting on top of his heels. He grabs you by your hips, pulling you over his lap to get your sex closer to his. A sex that with the simple touch of his warm precum covered tip makes your already overstimulated you to shiver.

His fist, also veiny, clench around his shaft. Toji pumps up and down two or three times and then plays with your wetting mess and his, giving you little slaps with his tip.

Strings of transparent lubrication mix; your neediness is that big you squeeze one of your breasts… it seems eternal, the wait, the desire…

The penetration. “Ngh…”

You arch your back while Toji penetrates you deeper and mercilessly, there is no escape as he has you trapped by the sides of your hips. Your toes curl, feeling the stretching of your cunt, and swearing his tip has probably reached a place nobody has ever reached inside you.

He begins fucking you, without moving a single muscle but his muscular arms. He is using you as a fleshlight, and his eyes are fixed in your beautiful pleasure façade.

“Keep moaning that way, you are almost identical” he grunts, moving you in and out faster and harder.

You aren’t very sure to who you are almost identical, but your brain has become nothing but a mere dumb slave of that lustful sexual torture.

He lifts from his heels, along with you. Your face and barely any of your nape remain on the mattress. To him moving your body, he adds his own hip thrusts. The sound of your skin slapping is almost as loud as your whining.

His forearm is the only thing holding you up by the small of your back, while his free hand now rips your little shirt open. Your breasts bounce in pure freedom, calling him to bite them so brutally. And so, he bends over to reach for your hard nipples.

Toji’s eyes never leave your façade, he seems possessed as he enjoys and also suffers.

“Fuck you bitch, how come you are that similar to her… you do the same fucking face” he spits, slapping your face and then burying his index and middle finger inside your mouth.

You choke but suck desperately. Your moans get muffled by his salty fingers; your sex has already undergone the stage of climax more than twice.

He can go for hours, pumping deep in you, biting your breasts, slapping you… and he does, until your conscious begins to fade, and he wishes to fill you up.

“Hold my cum inside, maybe I can give the fucking clan another kid” “Sir…? Which clan?”

I only touched her; I only fucked her because she looked just like you… I miss you, I miss you, I miss you so much...

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.8

Enjoy, touch angsty. I'm also opening up to requests for drabbles/headcanons of moments pre-show/outside show canon for this pairing because quite frankly i'm obsessed with them (and Ian Bohen i'm in love with that man).

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

WC: 1483

Previous part - Next part

---

Y/n exited the house with coffee in hand to see the small army John had amassed to deal with the cattle.  From the porch steps, she watched as who she assumed was a new hand talked to Rip who clearly didn’t think much of him.  Poor lad clearly didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to be doing on a ranch.  Y/n decided he was going to need her help to survive at the Yellowstone.

John approached her, “you’re gonna go with Rip up the mountain.”

“The fuck I am.  I’m going to the reservation,” she argued.

He shook his head, “I’m not about to let you be that close to it all y/n.  This is the compromise.  You help with the river or you stay here.  This is one thing that isn’t up for discussion.”

“Fine.”

She turned on her heel to one of the horse trailers where she took the rope of a horse from Colby to load up.  As she turned to leave, she was faced by Ryan who had bought his horse on.  Y/n let out a deep sigh upon seeing him, the reality of the potential danger to them in front of her in the form of his ‘livestock agent’ vest.  

Y/n leant against the metal, “I fuckin’ hate this Ry.”

“I know you do sweetheart,” he whispered.

They spent a quiet moment just existing in each others’ presence.  Ryan wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her body against hers and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head.  Y/n allowed herself to melt into his chest, and inhale the smell of his cologne mixed in with that of the horses surrounding them. 

“You gotta promise to be fuckin’ careful out there.  I need you to come back to me when today is done,” she said.

Ryan nodded, “I promise to be careful, sweetheart.  You’re all the motivation I need to be safe.”

“I love you,” y/n whispered into the trailer.

Before he got a chance to reply, Lee interrupted them, “come on lovebirds we’ve got cattle to take back and a mountain to blow up.”

“You’ve got shit timing,” she whisper-shouted at her brother as they left, “we were having a moment.”

Lee laughed, “life is full of moments y/n, if you spend too long in one another will pass you by.”

Y/n walked past the line of trucks the hands were climbing into and headed towards where Rip had Comanche waiting for her.  She took her horse and gracefully swung up into the saddle, settling in for the long ride ahead of them.  They started off down the drive and y/n observed how uncomfortable the new hand looked on his horse.  Yeah he was gonna need all the help she could give him.  The convoy departed past them and y/n waved to her brothers in the first truck.  As the last truck drove past, Ryan looked out the window to see her blow him a kiss to which he smiled back.

-/-/-

Half an hour into their trek, y/n felt like the nerves were going to eat her alive.  Rip was leading them up the trail with no indication he wanted to talk and the hand looked far too scared to say anything so she took it upon herself to fill the silence.

“What’s your name?” Y/n asked.

The hand startled at her voice, “uh it’s Jimmy.”

“Nice to meet you Jimmy.  I’m y/n and I reckon you’re gonna need my help here,” she explained, “Rip’s a stubborn son of a bitch who thinks affection’ll kill ya and most of the others stopped maturing when they were 10 so I’m your best chance.”

“Thanks I guess?” He wasn’t sure what to make of the girl behind him.

Rip stopped her from rambling on, “what she’s conveniently missing out of her introduction is that she’s a Dutton so you’d do well to keep away from her.”

“Call off the threats Rip I know you won’t do anything to him,” y/n countered, “guy that uncomfortable on a horse didn’t apply for the job.”

Jimmy turned red at her statement, “listen I ain’t proud of what I done but-”

“Relax I don’t care what you did nor do I care to understand the decisions my father makes.  I’m just here to cowboy and ensure the place doesn’t go to shit before I get a chance to inherit it,” she explained.

Silence elapsed around the group and Rip took the opportunity to check on the youngest Dutton.  He turned around to see that she was clearly off in her own world, reins loose allowing Comanche to just follow the horse in front of him.  Her fingers were tapping out a rhythm on her saddle’s horn and Rip got the feeling her leg would be bouncing if she had her feet on the ground.

When they reached the top of the mountain they got to work setting up the charges to change the course of the river and fuck over the development next door.  Rip headed over to where Lucy was busy connecting up the wires.

“They’re gonna be safe y’know,” he stated, “on both sides of the fence.”

Jimmy looked up from the river, “is this legal?”

“You’re a criminal, what do you care?” Rip questioned.

The hand sighed, “thought the Yellowstone was gonna keep me out of trouble.”

“Getting in trouble’s the only skill you got,” Rip pointed out.

Y/n added, “difference is now you ain’t gonna get caught.”

Once everything had been set, they mounted up and headed back down the mountain.  This time y/n took the lead in an attempt to keep her mind off what would be going down on the reservation at that time.  

-/-/-

Nobody on the ranch had slept since they had returned from the reservation without Lee.  Her father had turned the house into some sort of command centre trying to locate her brother and y/n was sat on the porch steps watching the commotion having lost count of the amount of coffee she’d drank since coming back.  John and Jamie were talking around her but the words weren’t sinking into her brain.  Suddenly her father took off from the house.  Y/n shot up from the step and followed Jamie’s line of sight to where Kayce was walking Lee’s horse towards the ranch with a body slung in front of the saddle.

She gasped and felt the fear that had been keeping her going leave her body.  Her legs buckled, falling to her knees next the steps.  Jamie rushed to wrap his arms around his sister, letting her cry into his chest.  They waited in silence for Kayce to dismount the horse before Jamie let go of her to launch herself into her twin’s arms.  Y/n kept herself attached at the hip with Kayce whilst Jamie tried to get out of him what had happened but he wasn’t willing to give up any information.

At some point sat on the sofa she finally spoke, “someone needs to call Monica.”

“I’ll take Kayce back in the helicopter now.  No use rehashing this on no sleep,” John explained, “stop running on coffee and sleep.”

After the helicopter had departed, y/n made her way down the drive towards the bunkhouse.  The door banged open and the hands looked up.  The place was quiet, there was no insults being thrown around, and they were all there which was unusual for that time of day meaning Rip had given them the day off.  Ryan and Colby were on one of the sofas half-heartedly playing solitaire and Lloyd was sat reading at the table.  

Wordlessly, Ryan put down his cards and opened his arms for his girlfriend.  She made a beeline for him before burying herself in the hoodie he was wearing.  He wrapped his arms tightly around her, kissing her hair safely.  

“I love you,” Ryan whispered to her.

None of the hands made comment about the situation and Lucy fell asleep like that with tears drying on her cheeks.

-/-/-

After the funeral, y/n split from the rest of the group heading to the main house and instead made her way down to the barn in need of some emotional support from Comanche.  She found her father in one of the stalls with the stallion Kayce had been working with.

“What’s he doing here?” She asked.

John looked up at her, “think it’s your brother’s way of apologising.”

“How did it all go so wrong dad?” Y/n pondered.

He sighed, “I have no idea but this isn’t the end of it.”

“I’m still not being part of some fucked up power game dad and you don’t get to use me in some twisted politics but whatever it takes to get justice for Lee I’m onboard with,” she explained, “when we’ve got that we’ll talk again.”

John smiled at his daughter, “that’s good enough for me.”

[howlett-n-morgan]

Take Me Home

5. Blood Stains

Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader

A/n: HEY GUYS I AM BACK WITH A DOOSIE. okay so my fashion show was fantastic, let me know if y'all wanna see a video of my collection i think it turned out pretty damn good. anyways, wrote this while crocked off my ass on Benadryl bc allergy season is hitting very very hard right now so if it's not perfect we are all going to collectively blame the Benadryl, okay? okay.

Summary: An accident in the laundry causes chaos in the camp, and secrets are revealed sooner than expected. With everyone else acting like the world is caving in, Arthur steps up as usual.

Warnings: misogyny, major gender role tropes, a little bit of personal violation, but very minor. Susan is a bitch in this chapter (we love Susan). Blood plays a lot into this chapter, and so do menstrual cycles, so if you're uncomfortable with those mentions, this may be a skippable chapter for you. There's also like some sexual implications but nothing inherently sexual happens. I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything.

WC: 7.8k

“Climb up, let’s go to town before closing time,” he walked around to the other side where his horse was hitched from earlier today, still saddled since Bill hadn’t made his rounds yet.  You complied, but were unsure of the motives for such a trip.  “Is Dutch paying you to take me somewhere? He want you to kill me quietly?” 

In the weeks since John’s disappearance, you’ve noticed three things:

One, Dutch hasn’t barely been seen in the camp, and when he makes his presence known, it’s either angry or forlorn. Two, the entire gang has been very quiet, not wanting to set off Dutch, or make anyone else upset with the matter. Three, Arthur has done as he said he would, becoming closer with Abigail, and helping nightly with Jack. 

It shouldn’t break your heart, because you had no right for it to. You shouldn’t be distancing yourself from the both of them, they didn’t do anything to deserve it, but the way your chest tightened by watching them, watching Arthur gently place a hand on her shoulder as he watched Jack squirm in her arms was far too miserable. Abigail won’t speak of it, knowing that everyone has been on edge since her former lover left, but she missed the talks and conversations you held. You understood her, and though she didn’t exactly know the truth as to why, she was still partially in grief over that bond, too. 

Arthur takes immediate notice, but doesn’t say anything. Hosea had mentioned your run in with John the evening he took off. He figured you needed time to cope with the situation, even if you didn’t know John all that well, or even like him for that matter. Everyone in camp was dealing with it differently, so why should he judge the way you handled yourself?

It was only when you stopped talking to him altogether that he became slightly concerned, and he wasn’t the only one. 

When Dutch first brought you into the gang, he knew there was some subtle competition with you and Arthur. The two fastest guns in the west, hell, maybe even the world… but you butted heads often. He didn’t know why it had suddenly stopped, but his concern grew from being in both your presences at the same time, and the icy feeling he got just from standing between you, running over job details in a tent. 

It was like Arthur didn’t exist to you anymore. Everything you said and did was conveyed to the people around him, but never to him. You would even give news to a big group of people to avoid telling Arthur directly. 

Dutch knew there was something wrong, because he could have sworn you both were inches away from getting along, but now it was worse than square one. It was after a successful job that he said something about it. After you had deliberately handed Arthur’s cut to Javier and told him to give it to the next man over. 

You’d ridden back, safe and sound, but Dutch held you back, nodding the others away from the horse troughs.  

“Talk with me for a bit, will ya son?” He tried to approach the situation gently. This couldn’t have been a gradual thing. 

“F’course,” you muttered, hands resting on your gun belt as you followed him into the center of camp. 

“I’ve been noticing some… strange behavior from you towards Arthur. Only lately…” he scratched his head, looking at you expectantly. “You can tell me if he did somethin’ to piss you off, I’ll speak with him about it.”

You furrowed your brow and shook your head. “He didn’t do nothin’ to piss me off… I’ve just always been better off on my own, don’t wanna rely on anyone.”

“I can understand that sentiment, but it doesn’t make any damn sense as to why you’re givin’ him the cold shoulder,” he furthered his point, and you didn’t have any choice but to make something else up. Something that could actually be worth what you were doing to Arthur. Your head told you that the truth of ‘I’m actually a young woman and I’m catching feelings for your gang enforcer’ wouldn’t help you. 

“He’s been tryna hold me back,” you sighed out, as if revealing some huge secret. It was partially true, but you’d grown more relaxed about the protection Arthur had been trying to provide. Still, you kept on the charade, knowing it would get you out of this situation free and clear. “M’tired of him thinkin’ I can’t keep up, tired of feelin’ like a helpless kid next to ‘im.”

Dutch let out a breath and narrowed his eyes. “I see… and so you figured it best to keep him out of arm’s reach, is that it?”

“Guess so,” you shrugged, leaning against the pole of his big tent. 

And then it seemed that Dutch saw this as a teaching moment, because he nodded for you to sit down on one of the cross latch boxes, across from where he stood. He had a whole spiel oncoming, and you were almost sure you knew what it would contain. Something about the camp being a family, everyone sticking together and more nonsense of the like.

“You don’t understand this now, because you’ve never had a time of need in this gang… but that day will come,” he paused, and you perhaps had it all wrong, listening intently now. He pointed in the direction of Arthur’s camp set up, and you glanced over, not for the first time that day. He was tired, hunched over his cot and leaning in exhaustion, running his hand over his face. “And when you are in that time of need, there is no better man to have in your corner than Arthur Morgan.”

You nodded in understanding, a small frown on your face. You wanted to protect yourself, but if what Dutch says is true, you’re only setting yourself up for failure. 

“He’s been here a long time, and no matter your opinion of him, no matter the things you do or the things you say, he’s loyal. It ain’t up to me what you decide to do, but you should know, he’s the best ally you’re ever gonna have.”

And just like that, you regretted the past weeks. Everything you did to avoid him, getting up early to grab some of the coffee before he came by. Going out and hunting without letting anyone know, just so that he didn’t have a chance to come with you. Even going as far as to mend your own clothing and do your own laundry, knowing he might catch you at one of the girl’s stations while picking up your weekly wears. You felt awful. You remembered at least four times he tried to approach you before he just gave up. At the time you were grateful, because you thought it was making things easier for you, but in actuality, the things Dutch said were true. You needed him in your corner. There would be a time of need, and Arthur was the best ally to have when that time would come, whatever it may be. 

“I think I oughta go set things right, then,” you let out, your ego deflating slightly when your eyes met Dutch again. 

“If you think it’s best,” he nodded, switching places with you and watching you walk over to his favored outlaw, the man he called his son. He called you son, too. You wondered if that would hold up if he ever found out about you. 

Arthur was on the verge of sleep, but you were doing this now. You could apologize later. 

“You look like shit,” you tried to be nonchalant, and not bring any emotion into this. 

When he looked up, he was slightly annoyed, but his face softened once he looked at you for a moment. 

“Feel like shit,” he grumbled, trying to understand what you were doing here. You didn’t exactly give him reason to believe he was important to you anymore. “Did you need something?” 

You kicked the dirt beneath your boot, trying to keep yourself composed, but you weren’t too good at these things, and the amount of shear stiffness in your body wasn’t helping you to relax about it. 

“I think I owe you an apology,” you started, and he tilted his head in slight confusion. Sure, he knew what you were apologizing for, but he didn’t know why. “I’ve been avoidin’ you, n’ I shouldn’t have.”

He nodded in thanks, accepting your words. You stood awkwardly, unsure if you should say more or just leave, but when you turned your boot to walk, he stopped you. 

“Did I piss you off or somethin’?”

Why was everyone asking that? 

“No, ain’t nothing you did. Just my own stupid ass and things that don’t matter,” you told him. You felt even worse now, because you’d made both him and Dutch think that it was something he did wrong. He could rarely do any wrong in your eyes, which made this whole ordeal that much worse. 

“Matters enough, you stopped talking to me. Couldn’t even get you to look my way.”

You didn’t want him to know anything else. With him and Abigail rapidly forming a blossoming relationship, it wasn’t for you to stand in their way. Jack needed a father figure, and Arthur was the perfect candidate. 

“I’m sorry about it. I swear it won’t happen again,” you really wanted to leave this time, unsure of how far it may go in the event of a deep conversation… but he caught your wrist and gently tugged it back towards where he sat as soon as you started turning away again. 

“You gotta give me somethin’, Red. I’ve waited weeks just to ask you,” he pleaded, his tired eyes looking through you and trying to enter your mind. You caved just as soon as you saw how badly this affected him. You hurt him. He might be big, burly, and dangerous… but he bleeds, and his heart can be wounded as easily as anyone else’s. 

“I’ve been going through some things, and you’ve had a lot on your plate with Jack and Abigail. It’s not fair of me to make my burdens your burdens… I was tryna keep you out of it,” you admitted, which was only half true. The partial truths of the night were stacking up, but fortunately he couldn’t tell the difference right now, too tired and unfocused to really study your features and what you were hiding. 

“Red,” he sighed, not yet prying for more information, but giving you one last glance. “You can tell me things. Remember that.”

You nodded, smiling at him for the first time since John left. “Alright.” 

-

You stopped avoiding and ignoring Arthur, but things were still distant. You’d been getting close right after Jack was born, but going into his third month in the world, you two were miles apart. Still, it was better than the stone cold facade you’d been turning to him before. 

“Got any laundry?” Susan asked, breaking you out of your trance as you watched the sun setting. You weren’t really paying much attention, but nodded, reaching behind you into your tent for a sheet full of worn out and dirty clothing. You should have looked it over, but you didn’t, too caught up in your own mind. “You can ask the girls about getting it back tomorrow, they’ve been going stir crazy for things to do.”

“Yes ma’am,” you nodded, tipping your hat and leaning back against your small tent’s middle pole. You had half a mind to slide your hat over your eyes for a nap, but that didn’t seem like it would fly, especially if one of the others needed you for something. 

You could definitely use a nap, you were cramping like crazy. You swore if Bill came up to you and asked for any more favors with the damn horses this week you’d kill him, but only because you were feeling grumpy. 

You wanted so badly to confide in Arthur about these things, the troubles of womanhood that you couldn’t share with anyone else but him. You wondered if he would ever tell anyone, since it’s been almost five months of your residence and you have yet to reveal your secrets to everyone else. Maybe you were being paranoid, but the closer he got to Abigail and the further you pushed him away, you thought he might care less about the agreement you both made. After all, spilling your secret to Dutch would gain him loyalty points, and Dutch seemed all too happy to be giving them out since John left. 

It was about an hour later when there was a shriek at the other side of camp, and many ran over to see what the trouble was. 

Tilly had been sitting by her wash bin, but had pulled her hands out on account of one thing. 

“What’s the matter, Tilly?” you heard Sean over your shoulder, and when you finally saw the trouble your eyes widened and you muttered a single word under your breath. 

“Shit.” 

“What’s shit?” Arthur’s voice was also heard beside you now, and you turned to him ever so slightly with a whisper.

“Me, I’m in deep shit.”

Tilly showed everyone the water, with some clothing swirling around, but it was all tinted red. 

“I think someone’s been hurt,” she said, waving over Mrs. Grimshaw to show her the problem. “There’s blood in the water.”

You tried to casually back up slowly, hoping that it wouldn’t get traced back to you, after all, the clothing in the bin was yours, and Mrs. Grimshaw had just picked up the pile from you. You were just stupid enough to leave your monthly attire in with it, and during your monthly time, too. You were only two days into the cycle, meaning there had been a lot of blood.

Grimshaw, being the stern and impatient woman she was, rolled her sleeves up and dug around in the water, looking for clothing with holes to indicate a stab or bullet wound… but she only found:

“A sanitary apron?” She furrowed her brows. She was pretty in tune with the women of the camp, and hadn’t been aware that someone was menstruating right now. 

“You better run, kid,” Arthur caught on, nudging your shoulder. You’d already started getting further away from the scene, but it seemed Grimshaw already came to a conclusion before you could make a break for it. 

“I picked these up from…” she trailed, her brow now seemingly angry and strewn together in a stressful manner. She marched over to you, grabbing your lanky wrist harshly and tugging you away from the scene. “You better not be hidin’ what I think you’re hidin’!”

You held onto your hat as she practically ran you into the nearest tent. It wasn’t hers or yours but that didn’t matter, her urgency was all too apparent. 

“Miss Grimshaw, what’s this all about?” 

“I have had my suspicions about you since you arrived here,” she spoke intensely, pulling you forward by your belt buckle and doing her best to undo it. 

“Hey, hey! What’re ya doin’?!” You tried to protest, but her nimble hands were too persistent, and she finally got your pants loose enough to take a brief peek at what she needed to see. “What the hell, would you stop?!” 

“I knew it!” she yelled, a finger pointed in the air. 

And just like that, you knew you were screwed. 

She quickly ran out of the tent, and you tried to follow her, making a quick attempt at putting your belt back together on the way out. 

Arthur ran a hand over his face when first he saw you, and the state you were in. He knew the jig was up, too. 

“Where is that man when you need him?” Susan was turning every which way, a mess of herself just trying to frantically look for the camp leader. 

“Dutch? He’s in town with Hosea, what’s the problem?” Bill sauntered up, dusting his hands from the work he’d paused. 

Pearson and Javier all of a sudden made an appearance, and when you thought nothing could make this worse, the rest of the camp zoned in on the chaos, having had nothing better to do this whole day. It was slow, and there were no jobs to be done, so the boredom consumed minds jumped on the first sign of entertainment they could find, and boy was it something.

“We have an imposter in our midst!” She yelled, her arms waving around wildly. 

“Hold on, now…” You tried to interject, but Arthur shot you a look, shaking his head. Don’t do it, kid. Just shut up.

“What do you mean an imposter?” Pearson crossed his arms. He was never one to give bad news of any kind to, because he had a tendency to blow it out of proportion. “Who?” 

“That,” she pointed at you, her voice raised to the highest decibel count you knew was humanly possible. “Is not an eighteen year old boy! She has been fooling us all. Who even knows where she comes from, what her real name is!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” 

“The kid?” 

“Ain’t no way…”

The rapid responses coming forward almost eased your mind, except for the fact that Susan did in fact have up close and personal proof from what she saw. 

Arthur stepped forward, and as the murmurs grew louder, and Miss Grimshaw was prepared to go on another rant, he did all he could to calm the situation. 

“Let’s not make any rash judgements right now,” he gave you a look, trying to let you see he was attempting to help, but that you needed to leave. “We’ll just wait until Dutch and Hosea get back.”

You took that as a cue to leave, awkwardly making way for your tent. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Susan tried to chase after you, but Arthur held her back. 

“Wait for Dutch,” he said, his arm blocking her path. Who knows what she’d do in this state? She’d been known to whip some of the boys into compliance before, who knows what she’d do to someone she viewed as an imposter. 

Sitting with the flaps closed, you could still hear everything that was occurring outside, and it nerved you far more than being in the middle of it all. 

“It doesn’t make any sense…” and “Do you think it’s true?” could be heard from separate conversations, and you wished more than anything that you’d just done your own damn laundry. 

Your face fell in your hands, and you started going over all the things that could happen. Dutch could hate you for lying to him, and kick you out, banishing you as far as you could go. Or, since you were a newbie, and didn’t have the trust factor built yet, maybe they would just shoot you dead. That may have been an extreme idea, but with your rapidly beating heart and increasing worry, things like that were bound to spill in. Not like you’d been in a gang before, you didn’t exactly get an etiquette and rule book when you arrived. Who knew what would happen to you. Nothing good, that you knew.

When Arthur finally opened the flap and leaned down inside the small dwelling, you knew it was time to face the music. 

“Dutch is back, Susan’s tellin’ him everything,” he sighed, looking over your face and feeling a sense of guilt that he didn’t do anything to stop all of this. When you first arrived he thought maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal, but having experienced this much drama in just the past hour has most definitely led him to believe he was wrong. 

When you stayed silent, and didn’t really give him a reaction of any kind, he could tell you were hit hard with the anxiety and shock of it all. He couldn’t ever get you to shut up, and he often didn’t want to, most of all now when you looked like a scared animal. 

“I ain’t gonna let ‘em hurt ya, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You shook your head, and against your hardest efforts, tears were backing your eyes, looking for ways to escape. He hadn’t ever seen you like this, and it wasn’t pleasant. 

“I don’t wanna leave,” you admitted. You liked it here. You weren’t lonely here, and you had a family… or at least you did an hour ago. You didn’t know where you stood with half of these people. 

He couldn’t speak for Dutch or Hosea, or anyone else really, but he could speak for himself. 

“I don’t want you to, either…”

When Arthur heard his name called, he leaned back, looking in the direction of his father figure, looking angrier than a pack of hungry wolves. 

“Yeah?” 

“Tell Brooks to see me, now.”

You didn’t even need the message relayed. You stood up, and followed Arthur out of the tent, your head down as you made the distance to the center tent, the big one you’d been at only a bit ago with council from your leader. You only hoped he’d be so forgiving when he found out you lied to him. 

Arthur got into the tent first, mumbling a few things you were a little distracted to hear. You did catch the small ‘don’t be too hard on her’ fall from his mouth, though. 

You sat down on the box chest, close to the exit of the tent, just in case things went south and you had to run. Not that you were thinking about running, but again, a million scenarios crossed your mind. 

“Arthur, wait outside.”

You grew more tense as soon as those words were uttered, and so did Arthur it would seem. 

“Dutch, I think I should-”

“Wait. Outside.” 

He reluctantly did as he was told, walking far enough away that he wouldn’t be reprimanded, but still in your eye-line so he could keep an eye on you. He trusted Dutch with the gang members, but if he was considering kicking you out, that made you fair game. 

“I’m gonna cut to the chase,” he took a long drag of the cigar he held between his fingers, blowing the smoke out when he turned his head to the side. “You know why you’re here.”

“I reckon I do,” you answered quietly, trying to keep an ounce of confidence though your entire body felt like it would start shaking in fear. 

“I could have you stripped for the whole camp to see, but for propriety’s sake I’m only going to ask you this once… is it true?” He asked, his tone less stern but still eager. 

“Yes.”

He sighed, having heard the softness in your voice since you came in, he already knew. You’d never shown this side of yourself to the camp before. You were always confident, sure of yourself, cocky even. To think it was an act boiled his skin… but he wanted to take his time with this. You still had capabilities the likes he’s never seen, and if he wasn’t careful they could one day be used against him. You didn’t know about the O’Driscolls yet, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have you running off and joining them. It would be the death of the Van Der Linde gang, of that he was certain. 

“I’m gonna decide what to do with you, but until then, you stay out of my sight.”

He pointed outside of the tent, and you were honestly surprised that this was the extent of his questioning. Nothing about the lies? About the history? About anything at all?

You gave him a double glance, but scurried away in fears he might change his mind and tear you to shreds on the spot. You walked hastily towards Arthur, your face gaining more color to it once you were out of the line of danger. 

“You alright?” He asked, his furrowed brows reflecting his concern. 

“No,” you let out with a dramatic scoff. Your flare for over exaggeration was sometimes quite amusing to him. He just dropped his head and chuckled. 

“You’re fine,” he patted your shoulder before stepping past you and going to talk to Dutch. What he knows is that Susan Grimshaw spilled every nasty detail of this afternoon to the camp leader, but he also knows that he hasn’t had his say yet, and when it comes down to it, Dutch will side with his loyal enforcer over a disgruntled Miss Grimshaw. 

Dutch was stretching out his arms, sore from the ride in and out of town. It was a scouting trip, really, but it was enough to make him ache when all the stress was added. 

“First John leaving, now this. I can’t seem to catch a break, can I?” Dutch sighed out after his words, the toll they took on his mind caused him to shake his head of so many thoughts. 

“This ain’t so bad,” Arthur began, tilting his head from side to side. 

“How could you possibly think that?”

Arthur shrugged, reasoning with himself a few options before saying them out loud. 

“S’not like she did any harm. Only thing that’s come of it is a bit of surprise to everyone…” he trailed, sitting across from the man he called his father figure and his friend. The tension seemed to ease up the second he neared the man, but there was more to be done to diffuse the situation, and he was all too happy to insert himself as the cause of said diffusion. 

“She lied about who she is, for all we know she could be working with local law, or worse, the pinkertons.” 

Dutch’s raised concerns nearly made Arthur chuckle. When you first got here, facade or not, you were still just lost and looking for somewhere to call home. There were never any motives behind your gang participation other than needing a family.

“We haven’t had them on our trail in ages. Coming here, we finally put a stop to their sniffin’ around. Besides, she’s been the reason for our successful jobs lately… she’s been loyal enough to save my life despite our differences.”

“But she lied to us,” Dutch kept driving his point. A liar’s a liar, and they lie about other things. 

“She’s a scared kid, Dutch. She just wants a place to be,” Arthur defended, his arguments becoming more close and personal, which led Dutch to connect some other dots. 

He sighed, looking at Arthur and coming to an understanding of what he knew were past events. 

“You knew, didn’t you?” 

Arthur dropped his head into a subtle nod, not yet meeting Dutch’s eyes for his fear of a bad reaction. 

“Since the week she got here.”

Dutch had to laugh, because of course he did. Arthur was more in tune with the members of camp than he could ever be, and more than they could be with each other. He was like Hosea that way, his ability to connect and grow relationships with others was just a natural gift. He often thought it stemmed from Arthur’s great love of the unknown, and his endless curiosity. 

“How’d you figure it out?” 

“I didn’t, until I found some uh… rather feminine items in her saddle bag. She fessed up pretty quickly to me,” Arthur scratched the back of his neck, his nerves settling when he knew he wouldn’t be in any trouble. 

“Well,” Dutch started, coming to the edge of his open tent, looking for the troubled recruit among the busy movement of the camp. “We’ve taken in much worse, and it’s always been in our favor. And you’re right… She's just a scared kid. A scared kid with the quickest hands I’ve ever seen.”

There was a moment, and then Arthur smiled.

“So… She’s free n’ clear?” He asked, his tone hopeful, which Dutch noticed. Perhaps Red had made amends after all, and just as Dutch promised, Arthur was in her corner. This wasn’t her time of need, per se, but he knew she would have him when it arrived.

“I suppose so, although… I’m not going to be responsible for the court of public opinion,” he gestured to everyone in the camp, frantically working around just to keep themselves busy. With all the chaos going on, it’s the only thing they can do not to sit and gossip, which they do anyway. 

“I reckon I better keep her away from Susan?” 

“With a ten foot pole, preferably,” Dutch rolled his eyes. That woman was full of determination, and it could be both a great strength, as well as her worst weakness. 

Arthur smiled, ready to go make good on a promise he’d been waiting on for some time. “I’ll catch you later then.”

“Alright, Arthur.”

-

You didn’t know if Arthur’s conversation with Dutch would benefit you or condemn you, but you didn’t stick around to find out. He’d found you saddling your horse, just in case a hasty escape needed to be made. Yes, perhaps your delusions were getting a bit out of hand. 

“Where you goin’?”

“Depends,” you started, “How mad is he?”

Arthur huffed and grabbed your wrist, stilling your movements. “He ain’t mad.”

“No?” You could hardly believe it. “He seemed riled up to me.”

“I talked to him,” he explained, but gave no further intel. 

“You got magic words or somethin’?” You chuckled, slightly more relaxed since the news came better than you hoped, and Arthur wasn’t dragging you back to be punished or anything. “What’d you tell him?” 

“That you were gonna be loyal… and that you’d been scared.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, trying to play off his last words like they weren’t true. “I ain’t scared.”

“Really? You were about to run, weren’t you?” He pointed to your full saddle bag and stocked up horse, ready to disappear at a moment’s notice. 

You caved. 

“He gave me a little fright is all,” you toed your boot into the dirt as you spoke, looking back up to find him nodding at your horse. 

“Climb up, let’s go to town before closing time,” he walked around to the other side where his horse was hitched from earlier today, still saddled since Bill hadn’t made his rounds yet. 

You complied, but were unsure of the motives for such a trip. 

“Is Dutch paying you to take me somewhere? He want you to kill me quietly?” 

It was just a joke, but he was getting tired of the overly dramatic interactions. He wasn’t sure what all transpired in your past, albeit knowing more than everyone else… even still, he figured there had to be something that gave you your theatrical touch. 

“Knock it off, would ya?”

“Sorry.”

The ride wasn’t long, but the sun was down when you both tied your horses to the poll in front of the general store. You’d been in here a few times, and the man behind the counter always cowered in fear of Texas Red the unkillable. No matter your manners or gentility, that’s just how it was. 

“What’re we doin’ here?” You adjusted your hat, wiping some sweat off your forehead and following him up the front steps. 

“I remember sayin’ I’d get you a dress a while back, we’re here to make good on it.”

You stopped in your tracks, a wide smile blossoming on your face when you heard him say it. He’d remembered, and been waiting for it since the night he uttered the words. 

He noticed you weren’t close behind him, and turned, catching the sweet expression you wore, but brushing it off with a sideways smile. 

“C’mon now, gotta pick it out.” 

You followed after him, and once inside, the man behind the counter seemed to be nervous, as usual. He didn’t seem to be weary of having you both in, just a bit anxious. Arthur knew his presence held power, but he figured with your reputation in this town, and others around… your presence was bound to hold more. 

“What can I do for you? Need more socks?” The man asked you kindly, and you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you. 

“No, we’re uh… we’re here to get a dress for my wife,” Arthur spoke evenly, his confidence showing through when he had to put on a show. 

Your head snapped to him, and though you knew he was intending to buy the dress for you, a thought sprang into your mind. Abigail. She was going to be his wife. 

This sweet little moment, with Arthur keeping his promise, and making a big to-do over your acceptance into camp, was all part of your own little fantasy. It wouldn’t last, and when you returned to camp, he’d be with her again, helping with Jack. You tried to shake the thought from your mind, wanting to enjoy this sliver of time with him. 

“Of course! I’ve got a new selection,” he pulled out the catalog, and opened the pages to a section with different types of skirts, petticoats, chemises, and corsets. All were beautiful, but your eye was drawn to a more simple style. It was a work dress, which would be far more practical for you than any of the other ones. 

“I’m not too good with all this. What do you think, Red? Which one would she like best?” He tossed you a smirk, leaning his elbow on the counter while he let you browse over the pages a bit longer, turning them over with a furrowed brow of focus. 

“What color does this one come in?” You asked the man over the counter, keeping your act up, but letting your hints of excitement show through. 

“That one is a nice pale blue, perfect for spring and summer time,” he spoke firmly, becoming more relaxed the longer you both were in the store. Yes, he’d heard the whispers, and for you, he’d actually seen your acts of a quick trigger. But here, you didn’t seem like a threat, so he stopped acting like you were.

“Blue, huh… Might bring out her eyes a bit, hey Arthur?” Now it was your turn to smirk, and he chuckled, nodding back to you and tapping the page twice with a heavy finger. 

“You’re right it would, make em’ look like crystal,” he played along, making you blush under the brim of your hat, unbeknownst to the man behind the counter. 

“It’s gotta be that one, then.”

Arthur chuckled, counting out the cash that the dress price was listed under, tossing it down on the counter and nodding to the man. 

“You heard the kid, we’ll take that one,” he spoke in a playful tone, ignoring the movements of the man as he scurried to the back rooms, getting your dress pieces together. 

Arthur lifted the brim of your hat, and smiled genuinely at the look on your face. It was excited, sweet, and grateful. He wanted to buy you the entire stock of the store just to ensure that look stayed on your face, no matter the irrationality of it. He’d become quite accustomed to giving you his time and his efforts, and this was no different. The only difference is that now he wanted to, wholeheartedly. The deal you’d struck with him, the one where you were going to teach him your methods of shooting faster, were now null and void. He didn’t want to take anything from you, he just wanted to give.

When the store worker returned with a large box in hand, Arthur thanked him for his time, carrying the thing over his shoulder and heading for the door, which you opened for him. 

Getting outside, you went for the horses, but he stopped you with a swat of your hand away from the reins. 

“Can’t go back yet, gotta see how this looks on ya,” he insisted, nodding for you to follow him yet again. He walked for a bit before coming up on the shed with a small lantern inside. It looked like it only housed tools and ropes and things of the like, but there was space enough to change in. “Came across this when I was out one day. Took a whole nap before someone realized I was in here.” 

“How convenient,” you teased, taking the box from his hands and eagerly walking into the confined space. 

“I’ll be out here,” he mumbled as you shut the door, putting a shovel against it since it didn’t really even close all the way. 

You knew he wasn’t the peeping type, so you began tearing away at your clothes, the ones that had been worn completely through by now and needed replacing anyway. You had more back at camp, but you had always missed dresses. This would be the first of many you would probably buy for yourself, but it was going to remain your favorite, because of who it came from. 

It was just like clock work, muscle memory helping you to remember all the little ties and snaps that needed to be in place, the corset laces that needed to be pulled enough to fit the outer fabrics. You knew you probably needed a good hair brushing and face washing to actually look like a young woman again, but for now, the dress was doing wonders on your self esteem… or at least it did until you realized you couldn’t finish putting it on by yourself. The buttons on the back went up higher than your shoulder blades, and sat in a near impossible spot to reach. If there was a mirror, you could probably just contort yourself enough to get it together, but in a dark, barely lit tool shed, your options were limited. 

You sighed, pulling the shovel away from the door and peaking your head outside. Arthur had nearly gone through an entire cigarette in the time you took to change. 

“Arthur?” You asked timidly. 

“M’here, you alright?” 

“I can’t reach the back,” you admitted, just slightly embarrassed. “Can you give me a hand?” 

He was all too happy to comply, stomping out the cigarette on the ground and taking quick steps to reach you. “Turn around.”

You did as he told you, turning so he had access to the open back of the dress. He couldn’t see you all too well in this light, but even from what he could see, a few words entered his mind from a past conversation you had with him. 

I used to be quite the stunner… and he surely believed it. 

His fingers caressed the exposed skin of your back before buttoning the fabric closed, smoothing it down over your shoulders and watching the way it fit you perfectly. 

“Don’t mention this to Abigail,” you joked, turning back around and trying to keep the mood light. It was beginning to feel too intimate, and you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to feel that way with Arthur anymore. 

“Why?” 

“Well, I might be a bit old fashioned, but isn’t it frowned upon for a taken man to be helping another woman with her dress?” 

It was just another joke, but he seemed to be completely thrown off by the implications. 

“I ain’t a taken man,” he confessed, looking at you with a stare that was all too deep, and all too consuming. He needed to stop that, but you didn’t have the heart to make him. 

“Not yet,” you corrected, but again it was you in the wrong. 

“No,” he shook his head, trying to bring a serious tone to the conversation. “I’m not gonna marry Abigail.”

Your face screwed up in confusion, thinking about all the times when he collapsed in her tent with Jack, just to get up and help him in the night. He was Jack’s new father, wasn’t he? That was the deal he made. 

“Why not? I thought that you were- well since you were helping with Jack and… what about your deal?”

“I said I was gonna do right by this boy, and I am… But Abigail won’t have me,” he shrugged, admitting to the rejection she gave of his offer. “She’s still in love with John, n’ I can understand it.”

It should have made you feel a bit of sadness, to know that even with all that Arthur was, someone would turn him away like that. ‘Abigial won’t have me’ sounded like perhaps he thought himself not good enough, just as he always does. Despite all of this, you didn’t feel sorrow, you felt an abundance of joy. A wide smile spread across your cheeks, and he furrowed his brow. 

“What’re you smilin’ about?”

“Nothing,” you dropped the smile and shook it off, running a hand up his arm and giving it a sincere squeeze. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I know you’ve meant well.”

“S’alright. Hosea’s been tellin’ me since Jack was born that I shouldn’t have offered. He doesn’t think we’re right for one another, somethin’ like that.” 

“I agree, you’re not right for each other,” you spoke out loud, though that thought was meant only for your head. 

Arthur seemed to be catching on slightly to your behavior, stepping a bit closer and staring downwards at you. 

“Yeah? And who am I right for?” He teased, watching the redness of your cheeks spread down your neck and shoulders with every breath you took. 

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out,” you did your best to counter his taunts, stepping away from him and going to collect your old clothes from the shed. Once they were in hand you turned back to the opening of the alley, making way for the horses. “You coming?” 

And of course, he followed, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. 

-

The next day fared better than you thought it would, if you’re being honest. 

You didn’t really know why, if Dutch had said anything, or if Hosea did, but after you returned to camp the previous night, everyone seemed to be acting just fine. They treated you differently for sure, but not badly. In fact, you noticed the men had a certain kind of reverence to you that they never held before. The same they did with the other women. 

Maybe it was just the beautiful dress that Arthur bought for you, the light and pure color of it giving you a sense of being ethereal, having finally exposed the raw feminine beauty that was hiding for so long. You reckon you’d even start growing out your hair again, as the short style coming to your chin was not how you preferred to have it in the first place.

You still went to work doing the same tasks you normally did, but were careful not to rip your dress or over-exert yourself, given you were still in the same physical condition as the day before. 

“Charl- I mean, Miss Brooks?” 

You heard a voice chirp softly from beside you, and you dropped the wagon supplies for now to walk over to the owner of said voice, Tilly.

“Yes, Miss Tilly?” You extended a smile, and she smiled back, albeit a tight and awkward one from where she was sitting. You took a step or two closer, and she had to shake her head after getting a better look at you. 

“I just-” she cut herself short on account of the words already jumbling in her head. “I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us.”

You furrowed your brow to her, unsure of what she could have possibly meant. 

“Why would there be?” 

“Well, if you can recall,” she started, a nervous chuckle in her speech. “I tried to make some… advances towards you. Back when I thought you were uh… a young man.”

You smiled again and ducked your head, a scoff of laughter and a nod of your head brought about less tension. It was no big deal. 

“Don’t worry yourself, Miss Tilly. I was the one who tricked ya, I oughta be apologizing. Probably should to Abigail, too.”

“Abigail?”

You tilted your head, recalling the scene. About two weeks before Jack was born. You’d done the same thing Arthur did, with not a care of revealing yourself in the future. 

“Before John even left, I offered her to be Jack’s ‘father’ when he was born. I guess I was pretty certain at the time no one was gonna find out,” you explained, leaning against the wagon she sat by, mending a shirt that looked like Arthur’s. You could tell by the wear and tear around the shoulders, where his broadness likely just caused the fabric to break down faster. 

“Could you really have gone on like that?” 

“I don’t know,” you pondered, another small laugh escaping you. “Maybe not, since I had to tell everyone I was eighteen just for them to believe it.”

“You aren’t eighteen?” She seemed surprised. Maybe you just had a young face. 

“No, ma’am. Twenty two nearing twenty three as a matter of fact.”

“I’ll say,” she tutted, throwing down the shirt she was finished with, and picking up a new one. “You had us all convinced. Makes me wonder where you really came from.”

You thought about telling her, but the story was long and today was a busier day than before. There was actual work to be done in preparing for the next job, a few days ahead. 

“Some place I didn’t wanna be,” you chided, stepping away from the wagon, nodding to her in thanks for the small chat. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Alright. I’ll catch you around,” she spoke sweetly, a kind look of relaxation on her face, now that she knew where she stood. 

You went back to work, making sure that neither Dutch nor Hosea saw you with idle hands today. You wanted to make sure that no matter what happened now, you wouldn’t be cast aside. You still had the abilities they needed, but with a skirt on your hips, they saw you differently, and it was up to you to show them you were not going to be ignored when it came to jobs in the future. 

You hated that the rest of the women in camp were just seen as stationary helpers, only capable of mending clothes or cleaning up the camp, or even just laying the groundwork in town for the men to actually pull jobs. You’ve seen Abigail in action, she was smart and cunning and had a great way with words, she could be the difference in things staying civil or having a shoot out during a quiet robbery, but the men overlook her gifts. You know the women in this camp have great potential, and perhaps if they let you continue as you have been, they will open the opportunities for the others as well.

Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo @hollyskjlap

[ak319]

Heyy! Omg I love your Arthur Morgan series so much I’ve reread it so many times alr haha

Here’s an idea/request if your interested 🫶🏽 so this takes place right after part three and reader is getting sick of j doing chores all day and wants to study again to achieve her dreams so tries studying in secret and gets caught? Feel free to alter/add whatever u like 🫶🏽

💌TYSM Ritaa! *HUGGIES*, loved to hear that! Hope you enjoy reading this one too!

Warnings/ MDNI: not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, restrictions// I don't condone such behaviour

Wiping the sweat from your brow after chopping vegetables for Pearson, you decided to slip away for a moment’s rest and a quick drink of water. As you sat down, your mind raced through the endless list of chores left to tackle: sorting supplies, feeding the horses-

“(Y/n)! Get your ass here for a minute!”

A sigh escaped before you could stop it. What does he want now?

“Yes… Arthur?”

Without looking up from his journal, he handed you a shirt. “Button’s broken.”

Great. Again?.

“Right.” You mumbled, taking and inspecting it. Unluckily, your disinterest was too evident for him to miss.

Arthur’s gaze lifted from his journal, confusion mixing with mild irritation. “Right what? Fix it.”

“Do you... have to wear it today?”

“It doesn’t matter. Fix it. And wash it too.” He didn’t wait for your answer as you nodded, already bracing for yet another chore.

At this rate, my hands are going to look ancient by the time I’m 30 from all this washing.

You turned to leave, only for his voice to follow you. “Also, bring some coffee.”

“Arthur, don’t drink so much coffee all the time. It’s bad.”

From his cot, he glared, unamused. “What, you a doctor now? It’s only my second cup today.” Before you could respond, Dutch called him over, and he stood, striding off with a parting command, “It should be on the table when I get back.”

Grumbling, you turned to make the damn coffee.

He’ll get it, alright.

These were the times when you found yourself fervently wishing for your brother to get married just so you could be free from the burden of being his maid. But then again, would he even find a woman willing to endure a life like this? God, no, please, give him a wife. ASAP. But then again, you couldn’t help but pray for that unfortunate woman, too, because living here was no piece of cake. Do people even marry outlaws?

"...."

You shook your head and decided it was best to start on the coffee instead of rambling in your head.

⋆⋆⋆

Finally done with the day's work and free from Susan's watchful eye, you made your way to your tent and collapsed, face-first, into the pillow with a satisfied groan. You lay there, savoring the brief solitude, until a gentle throat-clearing sounded just outside your tent. The voice that followed caught you off guard. It was unmistakably Hosea’s soft, friendly tone.

You quickly composed yourself and stepped out to greet him.

"I wanna show you something. Come," he said with a smile, gesturing for you to follow. As he led you around the camp, you couldn't help but notice Arthur's horse was gone.

Thank God.

When you reached a quiet spot, he motioned for you to sit on an overturned crate beside him. "So, I gathered a few books here,” he said, a small stack beside him. “Annabelle mentioned you like reading, hm?"

"I--well..." Your voice faltered. How could you explain that after everything, your heart had shut itself off, wrapped tightly in a cocoon of cynicism? Arthur’s words echoed in your mind,

'Walking with empty dreams is useless. Lazy.'

The books felt like a window to something lost. They reminded you or maybe haunted you, of a past drenched in hope, of that rainy night when it all started to unravel.

"Well? Look, I'm gonna be honest with you," Hosea continued, his voice a comforting blend of seriousness and warmth. "You're a sharp girl, with a damn keen mind and a thirst for knowledge. So why waste your free time when you could read? I’ve got plenty of books you can borrow anytime you like."

You shifted, fiddling with your fingers. "No--I mean...thank you, really, but...it’s just..." The words caught in your throat, but you pushed on reluctantly. "Y'know...Arthur just...doesn’t… I don’t know how he’ll--"

"React?" Hosea let out a knowing chuckle. "Who says he has to know? Read when he's not around, it’s simple. And what’s his deal with you reading, anyway?"

"It’s not like he’s ever said anything specific, but..." You sighed. "I think he worries...that somehow the books will make me cling to the past. And honestly, what’s even the point of reading, really, when this is all I have to look forward to? Living here… forever."

"Now, don’t talk like that." Hosea’s tone softened, his eyes filled with an almost fatherly concern. "We all have different lives and paths, our thoughts and dreams that’ll shape our futures. And I’d like to see you have a life outside of all this, one with more than just survival, you hear me? You think I don’t want that for you? Sometimes I even think about it myself when Dutch is... well, being Dutch." He grinned, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the shared understanding.

"Also, don’t go thinking that being a girl can stop you," he added with a wink. "So… whaddaya say?" He waved the book enticingly in front of you, and any resistance you had left melted away.

"Sure. Thanks a lot, Hosea."

"No problem. And don’t you worry about Arthur, okay?" You nodded, cradling the book close as you slipped back to your tent. The weight of its worn pages in your hands felt like a secret gift. Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

⋆⋆⋆

It was just another day when you finished your chores and when you were sure Arthur had gone hunting, you settled into a secluded spot on the edge of the camp, your book propped on your lap, and lost yourself in the words, the outside world fading away.

That is, until someone snatched the book from your hands.

"Hey!" you shouted, startled.

"What’s this, oh, these damn boring books!" John, who was a year younger than you and had a knack for finding you when you least wanted to be found, held the book out of reach with a mischievous grin.

"Can’t you just play with me instead sometimes? I swear I’m so bored these days!" His voice was grating, and you could feel your irritation rising.

You lunged forward to snatch the book back, but he leapt backwards, a teasing spark in his eyes.

“John! This isn’t funny! I’m not free like you all day, alright? I do actual work around here, not out there trying to shoot a rabbit and missing every time, and now I’m relaxing, so stop being a jerk! Hosea would be mad if he found out you messed with his book!”

“Of course, the oldie is your tutor,” he laughed, clearly unfazed. “How about we do something that makes both of us happy? I get to play, and you get your book back.”

Gritting your teeth, you feigned a serious demeanor. With a quick breath, you lunged at him again, your frustration bubbling over. John’s playful stance told you he was ready for a chase, and before you knew it, you were darting after him, laughter bubbling up despite your annoyance.

As much as you wanted to giggle and enjoy the thrill of the moment, there was a lingering fear at the back of your mind, what if Arthur returned early? The last thing you wanted was to be caught in a childish game when he expected you to be responsible.

"JOHN! COME BACK! DON’T GO TOO FAR!" you shouted, but he ignored you, running toward the small lake that fringed the camp. You had no choice but to follow him, anxiety bubbling up inside you, not just from the chase, but from the thought of losing that book. It wasn’t just some random novel, it belonged to Hosea, and you couldn’t let him down.

“Here, take it!” John taunted, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he threw the book into the lake.

“JOHN, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”, your frustration boiling over as you watched the book sink beneath the surface.

“GO GET IT! HURRY!” You shouted, while John stood reveling in his victory.

“I don’t know how to swim!” He shot back.

“FUCK YOU!” But you knew you couldn’t let Hosea down. You couldn’t let that book be lost.

With a determined breath, you dove into the lake, plunging into the cold water. Your heart raced as you fought against the initial shock, remembering the few basics your dad had taught you when you were ten. You focused on the glimmering book sinking just out of reach and swam deeper, stretching your fingers to grab it. That's when John realized that maybe he went too far and kept calling your name.

Finally, you managed to wrap your hand around the damp cover. Kicking off the bottom, you propelled yourself upward, gasping for air as you broke the surface, the book clutched tightly to your chest.

"(Y/N)...I am sorry..." He stammered when he saw the look of absolute rage on your face. He knew he was going to be dead if he got in your hands.

The moment John took off toward camp, you bolted after him, fury blazing in your chest. He’s going to pay for this, you clutched the soaked book tightly in one hand and narrowed the gap between you. You could hear his frantic apologies as he dodged between trees and crates, but you weren’t letting him off so easily. This time, he had gone too far.

As the camp came into view, you spotted Arthur’s towering figure near the fire. He was leaning against a post, arms crossed, a dark look already on his face as his eyes landed on John racing toward him with you close behind.

“Oh, shit…” you murmured under your breath, your heart pounding even faster. You slowed your pace, watching as Arthur’s expression shifted from mild irritation to intense, unfiltered anger. John stopped short, nearly tripping over himself as he came to a halt in front of Arthur, his face pale.

“Arthur--uh-- I was just--we....” Arthur cut him off, his voice low and deadly calm. "What? Messin’ around, huh?”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, shifting to you, drenched and clutching the wet book. His voice dropped into a growl. He directed a sharp glare at John. “Looks like more’n that to me.

John’s face drained of colour. “Um-we were just--playin'” he started backing away under Arthur’s icy stare, but Arthur grabbed him by his ear and pulled him closer, making John let out a burning wince.

“Listen here, you little idiot,” Arthur snapped, taking a step closer until John practically shrank under his gaze. “You ever pull somethin’ like this again, you’re gonna find yourself missin’ a few teeth, you understand me? Stay away from her.”

John nodded frantically, too scared to speak, and when Arthur jerked his head in a silent order to leave, John took off like his life depended on it.

Arthur’s eyes turned to you, his face darkening. His gaze swept over your soaked clothes, the way you clutched the dripping book like it was something precious, and his jaw clenched.

“Care to explain why you’re drenched head to toe?” he asked, his voice low but laced with irritation.

You swallowed, choosing your words carefully. “I…just wanted to get the book back.”

Arthur raised a brow, unimpressed. “And what the hell were you doin’ with it in the first place?”

You stammered, caught off guard, and Arthur’s eyes narrowed. He reached out, grabbing your arm firmly, pulling you closer. “Don’t tell me you’ve been sneakin’ around to read like a fuckin princess,” he muttered, his tone a mix of anger and disbelief. “That why you’re makin’ trouble?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already fuming. Before you could get a word out, his grip tightened, and he gave you a hard, reprimanding shake. “You think jumpin’ in the damn lake’s a smart idea? Riskin’ yourself over some dumb book!? Are you fucking serious?”

“Arthur, it’s not-” you tried to explain, but he cut you off with a sharp slap across the cheek, the force of it blurring your mind for a few seconds, sending a shock through your whole body. You touch your cheek, trying to keep the hurt off your face and shield yourself from another one.

“You’re makin’ my life harder with this reckless nonsense, thought' I made it clear that there ain’t no use for fillin’ your head with fantasies out here. You need to learn what’s important here. Don’t forget your place. Also told you to not wander off! There are all sorts of dangers out there!”

Your voice was broken but you still managed to retort, "It's...not just fantasies...why can't you get it-" He threw the book from your hands, irked.

“Watch it,” he snarled, gripping your chin with bruising force, his face close, dark eyes simmering with anger. “You think I got time for this nonsense? Next time you got free time, you spend it doin' somethin’ useful, not messin’ around in places you don’t belong.”

But before he could go any further, Hosea’s voice sliced through the tension like a whip. “Arthur! Enough!” Hosea’s tone was sharp, urgent, as he stepped forward, grabbing Arthur’s arm and prying him back. “Have you lost your damn mind? Let her be!”

Arthur jerked back, breathing heavily as he let go, his jaw tight with frustration. He shot you a look that still held that smouldering fury but kept silent under Hosea’s watchful gaze. The older man placed a protective hand on your shoulder, guiding you behind him, his face set in a firm, disappointed scowl as he looked at Arthur.

“This isn’t how we treat our own,” Hosea said quietly, the warning clear in his voice.

"I will treat her however I want, so shut it, old man! She jumped in the fucking lake for a damn book!" He turned back to you. "If I ever catch you slackin’ off with one of these again, or doin' such stupid stunts, there’ll be hell to pay. You hear me?" You nod quickly, too scared to even meet his gaze, swallowing back any retort.

He muttered under his breath and turned sharply, stalking off into the woods, leaving you standing there, shaken but grateful for Hosea’s intervention.

“You alright?” Hosea’s voice softened, his eyes filled with concern as he watched Arthur disappear.

Though your throat felt tight, you nodded as your hands still clung to his coat. “Hm.”

“Don’t let him get to you, you do a lot more around here anyway, more than anyone I would say,” he murmured. “He...he's just afraid. But you...don't have to be."

You tried to smile through your tears, though the sting of Arthur’s slap still lingered, and you knew it would for days to come.

Hosea gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder, noticing the way your gaze lingered on the soaked book. “I see the book’s wet, but it’s alright. There are plenty. I’ll buy this one again for you.” His tone was warm, reassuring. “Now, go change before you get sick.”

You managed a small nod, before hurrying to the privacy of your tent. As soon as you stepped inside, the weight of the day finally crashed down on you. You sank onto the cot, clutching the damp fabric of your clothes, and let the tears fall, the frustration and anger pouring out in muffled sobs.

Everything, Arthur’s fury, John’s reckless prank, the guilt over Hosea’s book, hit you all at once. The tent felt like the only safe space at that moment, the only place where you didn’t have to hold back. Perhaps, it's better if you don't read, maybe Arthur is right...but Hosea's hopeful words rang in your mind. You buried your face in the pillow, letting out everything, all the confusion, anger and pain that was clawing you from inside, draining yourself.

[peakyltd]

New Endings

Part 1 | Tommy x Reader

A/N: I wrote this for @dearshelby 's 2K celebration. (Sorry that it took me so long to finish this Lora!) It was supposed to be just a one shot but it became so long that I decided to split it in two parts. It was also supposed to be fluffy but I completely lost track of that. I used the prompt: What you need me to say's gonna hurt you.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse (not inflicted by Tommy and not described in detail), swearing.

Words: 3.4k

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

Papers were sprawled over the big desk, the fountain pen in his hand was resting inches above one of them. The crackling of the fire was the only sound filling his office. He needed to finish this but his thoughts didn’t let him, still busy with processing the events of today.

He had left a meeting in the Midland hotel when he immediately recognized her from afar in the lobby. He still felt his heart drop at the sight of her. The mesmerizing smile she gave one of the receptionists filled his heart with the warmth he had been missing for so long.

He still remembered the day he let her walk out of his life, taking his heart with her.

After deciding to approach her, a man walked up and took her hand. Jealousy had taken the place of warmth in just a second. The ring on her finger told him enough. She replaced him with someone else, just like he did with her.

When the couple turned around, her eyes met his own. He could've sworn he saw her eyes lit up for a moment until her expression turned into a shocked one. Her soft beautiful voice called out his name and a small, formal “Hi.” And “How are you.” were exchanged until she told him they had an important meeting and that they had to go.

She never introduced him to the man on her arm. Although he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to be introduced.

“Dad? I can’t sleep.” A small voice shook him out of his thoughts. His eyes focused on the paper in front of him again, realizing the ink from his fountain pen dripped down on it, turning the letters into a big stain. A sigh escaped his lips before looking up at the little boy standing in his office, holding a blanket and a plush horse to his chest. “And why’s that, Charlie?” He asked his son. He took his pocket watch, wondering what time it was.

“Can I stay with you?” Charlie asked as he made his way over to his dad’s desk. “It’s 2 am, you can’t stay here.” Tommy remarked.

“I can sleep on your sofa.” The boy mentioned as he climbed on it. “Charlie, you should be sleeping. In your own room.” Tommy sighed as he got up.

“You should be sleeping too, you’re always here.” He argued as he laid down on the sofa. Tommy moved over to him, covering him with the blanket. “Why aren’t you sleeping, dad?” Charlie tried again.

“Because sometimes people have a bit trouble sleeping.” He explained as he sat down next to him. “Just like me?” Charlie’s question made his lips turn into a small smile. “Yes Charlie, just like you.”

“What’s letting you sleep better, daddy?” Charlie looked curiously at him as he hugged his horse.

Opium, booze, her.

“Thinking about the horses.” He answered as he stroked the boys hair. “I always dream about them.” Charlie smiled at him. “Do you too?”

“Yes, I do too.”

A knock on his office door got his attention. "Yes." The door opened, revealing Arthur and John. "Good morning Tom." The oldest brother greeted him as he sat down in the chair in front of his desk. John closed the door and started to pour himself a whiskey. "Indeed a good morning." He stated as he raised his glass before making his way to his brothers.

"You look tired." Arthur noticed the dark circles under Tommy's eyes. "He always does." John replied as he leaned against the desk, earning a glare from him.

"I'll keep it short. I got the deal, now I want you to keep an eye on the shipment.” He pointed at Arthur before moving his attention to John, a stern look in his eyes. “And I want you to deliver that package at the right address, today. Is it ready yet?”

“Of course it is. I worked really hard on it.” John smirked before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Good.” Tommy leaned back in his chair. “That’s it.” He sighed as he clasped his hands together.

Arthur’s eyes lingered a bit longer on Tommy as he stood up. It was worrying him to see him turn into ghost of himself more and more everyday. "Try to relax, yeah?" Arthur mumbled, knowing very well his words would fall on deaf ears. Tommy's straight face and the silence that followed confirmed it all.

“Oh, Tom. You never guess who I bumped into this morning.” John broke the silence as he stood up straight. “Well?” Tommy's toneless voice filled the room as he shifted his attention to the letters in front him.

“(Y/N), I accidentally bumped into her.” He answered as he finished his drink, placing the now empty glass on his brothers' desk. Tommy looked up at him, alerted by the mention of her name. “It was nice to see her again. Still stunning as ever.” John added, a small grin growing on the corner of his lips.

“Where did you see her?” Tommy asked him as John barely finished his sentence. "She left Greenwoods, told me she had breakfast there." John replied, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Tommy. "Was she alone?"

"Her fiancé joined her later." John responded. "Before you ask, I don't know who it is but I wonder if he really makes her happy. Our conversation changed in a weird way when he joined and she left pretty quickly after." He put a new toothpick in his mouth. "Why?"

“What else did she say?” Tommy asked. "I asked you something first." John simply stated, chewing on his toothpick. "John, what else did she say to you." Tommy snapped at him, irritated by the fact that he didn't get an answer right away.

John clenched his jaw as he glared at his older brother. "For fucks sake, I-"

"John, just tell him, eh?" He was cut off by Arthur who had put a hand on his shoulder. "Just tell 'im." He mumbled again, hoping to calm the tension between the temperamental brothers.

John sighed as he felt Tommy's eyes almost burn into his skin. "She's here for business. Told me she was doing well and just had a quick chat. That's it." He recalled the conversation. "Fucking business, eh? For how long is she staying?" Tommy questioned.

"Do I look like a fucking calendar to you?" John sneered as he felt himself getting angry by his brothers' interrogation. Tommy opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by John. "I have to go. I have to deliver a package."

"John." Tommy warned. "Fuck off Tom." He strided out of the office, slamming the door behind him and leaving Tommy and Arthur alone. "Maybe you should try to speak to her." Arthur carefully suggested.

Silence followed as Tommy glanced at him. "Go to the yard and talk to Charlie about the shipment that is coming our way."

A sigh fell off Arthur's lips as he shook his head slightly. "Yes Tommy." His voice a soft murmur as he turned around to leave the office. Tommy leaned back into his chair, his eyes staring at the door and his mind running.

"What's wrong with you now?" Tommy turned around to the direction the voice came from as he adjusted his coat. Ready to leave the office as his eyes met Polly's. Her body leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed.

"Not much more than yesterday." He stated as he put on his cap. "That's why John left your office like that this afternoon?" She wondered, not quite forgotten the contrast between his entrance and exit of the building.

"You know how he can be." Tommy replied, making his way to the door. "Yes, I do know how he can be when you press the wrong buttons. Just like I know how Arthur can be and how you can be. Now tell me what's going on." Polly blocked the door, looking up at Tommy.

"Pol, please." Tommy looked at her, an unfazed expression marking his features. She simply raised her eyebrow, her eyes never leaving his.

Tommy sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I have to go.” His eyes held her gaze. Polly didn't move. He laid his hand on her shoulder and gently guided her out of his way. "Tommy, be honest to yourself for once." She retorded as she tried to stop him.

"I am, Pol. I am." Tommy mumbled, more to himself than to his aunt. Before Polly had the chance to stop him, he had already left the office. On his way to be honest to someone other than himself.

He stopped his car in front of a cottage on the countryside while looking for any sign of life. It seemed quiet and he hoped he didn't make the long drive for nothing. He excited the car and walked up to the front door, the sound of his knuckles hitting the wooden door disturbed the peaceful whistling of the birds.

Tommy waited but there was no one answering the door, he knocked again while glancing inside trough the closest window but it seemed like there was nobody at home.

As he contemplated on what to do next, the door opened. He looked up and was met with the person he was desperate to see. "Tommy? What are you doing here?" (Y/N) asked him while the color drained from her face, startled by his sudden presence.

"I want to talk." He admitted while he took in her appearance. His heart dropped in the same way when he had seen her in the hotel. She barely changed in those years although there was something different about her.

"How did you even know that I'm staying here?" She questioned him as she looked around to see if they were alone. Before Tommy could speak up she cut him off. "You know what, I don't even want to know. You can't be here." She blurted out, her eyes darting from him to the road.

Tommy noticed her strange behavior, it gave him a weird feeling. "It won't be long." He assured her as he stepped a bit closer to the door. "No, Tommy." She gasped slightly as she looked up at him. "Please, go."

"I'll go if you tell me that we can meet somewhere. Tonight." He countered although he didn't wait until tonight. Her gaze left his and found distraction on the floor. She bit softly on the inside of her cheek as she thought. A sigh escaped her lips. "Fine."

"Where?" She mumbled softly. "Midland hotel, 9 pm." Tommy offered but saw (Y/N) shaking her head. "No, not the hotel." She looked up at him. "The Garrison."

"The Garrison, 9 pm then." He confirmed as he watched her taking in her surroundings once again. Her gaze fell on him once more. "I'll promise I'll be there tonight." She assured before closing the door on him. Tommy swallowed harshly before returning back to his car.

As he leaned against the bar, Tommy's attention switched between the guests and the door, a whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. It was 9.30 by now and she still hadn't arrived. Maybe she didn't dare to tell him that she didn't want to come and was this just a trick to get rid of him. Maybe it was stupid to still trust her after all this time.

A lot of maybe's and what if's had been going trough his mind for years now, all without any kind of answer.

The door opened again and revealed the gorgeous woman he was waiting for. Her eyes scanned the place as she wrapped the fur coat tightly around her body. "(Y/N)." Tommy walked up to her. "Tommy." She gave him a small, shy smile as she looked him up and down.

"This way." He let his hand rest slightly on her back and lead her into the snug. He put his drink on the table and turned back to her. "Would you like something to drink?" He asked her while she took off her coat. "Gin with tonic water, please."

As Tommy got her the drink she looked around. The bar looked different from the last time she was here. Thinking back of the many memories that were made inside the building, made her feel at home.

Tommy's voice shook her out of her thoughts. "Like the decorations?" He asked as he closed the door, making his way to the table and put her drink on the table as well. "I- Yes. It's different. More gold." She replied, turning her attention back to the man in front of her.

"You're allowed to say that you don't like it." He assured as he watched her cheeks turn into a light shade of red. "I do like it."

"Just saying." He pointed at the the seats. "Please, sit down." He told her as he sat down across from her, taking a sip of his whiskey. Silence fell over them until their eyes met. "How have you been doing?" Tommy was the first one to break the silence with his question.

"I'm doing fine." She kept her reply short. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well." He answered. She didn't quite believe it, he looked different from what she had remembered. Something she thought she had already noticed it at the hotel but wasn't too sure of.

"John said you're here for business." He said while lighting another cigarette. She narrowed her eyes and her jaw tightened. "The Blinders are still keeping an eye on me here?" She scolded in annoyance. "Did they ever stop?"

Tommy sighed, blowing out some smoke. "You know it was for your own safety." (Y/N) sat up straight. "Was it really? Or was it because you wanted to control everything single thing?"

She remembered that it got worse with the day. At some point there was always someone with or around her to watch her, or taking care of as Tommy would like to call it. She knew that he meant well and he wanted to protect her but it was suffocating.

He took a sip of his whiskey. "You know the answer to that question." She shook her head as she looked away. "Listen, I'm only here for a few days, after that I'll leave."

"Is it for your fiancée's business?" He asked, moving the conversation back to his inital goal while taking another drag of his cigarette. Her eyes snapped back to his, a glare replaced her kind looking eyes. "Tommy, please. Is this why I'm here? To talk about business or rather about my fiancé?"

"We can discuss business later." He remained motionless. "I need to go." She said as she stood up, making her way to the coat rack. "John wondered if he really makes you happy."

She froze as she heard his words. "Does he?" Tommy questioned. She turned around to look at him. "John this, John that. Why aren't you talking to him instead?" She scoffed, her breath quickening.

"Does he?" Tommy asked again. She looked at him, her arms crossing as her fingers played with the fabric of her dress, not being able to answer his question.

He held her gaze a little longer before breaking it. "I guess I have my answer." He stated as he stomped out his cigarette in the ash tray. She took a deep breath, feeling a kind of sadness washing over her. "Why did you even want to talk to me?" Her voice was smaller than before.

"Because I knew I had to when I saw you again. That ring on your finger was supposed to be mine." Tommy explained.

"Supposed to be yours? I can't believe you!" She shook her head before meeting his eyes again. "You're the one who told me I was better off without you because your life was too dangerous. You know I didn't want to break up because of that but you insisted." Tears welled up into her eyes.

"Listen (Y/N) I-" He was cut off by her raised voice. "No let me finish."

"You were the one who just vanished after everything we've been trough. On top of that I found out you were together with someone else not even months later." She took a deep breath to try and remain calm. "And now you're saying that ring was supposed to be yours?!" Her voice betrayed her anger.

"I made a mistake by breaking up with you." Tommy admitted as he stood up. She let out a snort. "Only for breaking up with me?! I heard you were married and had a child!"

"That was years after you, not months. You know I tried to find you but you didn't want to be found, you wrote it meself." He defended as he slowly closed the gap between them. "I have the letter still."

"Don't you understand that you've hurt me?! I wanted to hate you but I knew the moment I would see you again I would forget all about that because I loved you. Something you failed to show many times." She yelled at him, finally able to put the anger and pain into words.

"Don't fucking tell me that I never showed you how much I loved you." Tommy's voice raised, it startled her but she quickly gathered herself together again. "I made that decision because I wanted to protect you!"

"Oh, please!" She scoffed, her body felt tense and her chest moved rapidly from the heavy breathing. "If you loved me you'd fucking fight for me!"

"I always did, (Y/N)! Always!" He yelled back at her as he watched her shake her head again. "Oh fuck off! There's no point into this conversation. You should go back to your fucking wife!"

"My fucking wife is dead." His harsh words hit her harder than she expected, no words were able to leave her mouth as her eyes softened.

"I didn't know." She breathed out. "I'm sorry."

"I tried to protect her like I tried to protect you but I failed. A fate I wanted to spare you." He explained on a calmer tone.

Tommy's gaze softened, his hand touched her cheek carefully. She flinched slightly at his action. "I am sorry." His voice was almost a whisper. Her eyes stared into his, they seemed so close to something safe and familiar but at the same time it was all so far away from that.

He moved his face closer to hers until their lips met. They both melted slowly into the soft feeling of having each other so close. His other hand found it's way to her waist as her hands rested on his chest.

Tommy gently deepened the kiss as he pulled her closer. (Y/N) melted right into him until realization struck her. If her fiancé would find out where she was or what she was doing right now, he would be furious.

She pushed Tommy away, the sound of the harsh contact from her hand on his cheek echoed trough the space. A gasp escaped her mouth, afraid of what his reaction would be.

The stinging feeling of his cheek made Tommy instantly snap out of the moment. He looked at her as he clenched his jaw, confused by what just happened.

"I"m so sorry. I- I didn't want to... I'm engaged Tommy." She stammered while reaching for her coat. "David will kill me if he finds out that I was with you."

"(Y/N)..." Tommy started as he watched her put on her coat. "Does he hurt you?"

She gulped, avoiding his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I saw how you flinched (Y/N) and don't even get me started on the anxious behavior when I stood in front of your home." This was the last thing she wanted to talk about. "It's not our home. We only use it for holidays." She tried to change the subject as she walked to the door.

"(Y/N)." Tommy called out her name. "What?" She snapped as she turned back to face Tommy. "I care about you."

Her eyes lingered a bit longer on him. "I'm sorry Tommy. What you need me to say's gonna hurt you." She decided to walk out of the door, leaving him on his own.

To be continued

PART 2