#it’s so far removed from all that ’’joy of movement’’-thing but I’m at my most consistent when I get to that ’’I hate myself so I’m just | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

destinyimage · 1 year

Text

Boy Blinded by Abuse Sees Again in the Glory Atmosphere

Even during times of transition and change, we can rest assured that God is transforming us into new levels of glory (see 2 Corinthians 3:18).

Following Jesus can never be reduced to following a formula. I recently had a vision of Jesus standing in a harvest field. He turned around, looked at me with an outstretched hand, and said with a smile, “Come, follow Me.” I cried for two hours after that vision because I felt His glory fill my room, and I knew He was inviting me into another great adventure with Him. I am still walking out this invitation. I have a feeling I’ve only seen the surface of all that He has in store for us. Following Jesus requires movement and change.

“It doesn’t matter if you just got your stakes down like you wanted them. The move of God doesn’t happen according to your timing. God cannot always accommodate to your schedule. He moves sovereignly, as He wills, and if you don’t move with him, you will be left behind. He has but one desire for us, and that one desire is that we be changed from glory to glory. He has never moved a person to a lesser glory than they’ve already experienced. Change, therefore, is our friend. The changes God is sending into our lives are intended to work in us ‘a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.’ In fact, change becomes the measure of the glory.” —Ruth Ward Heflin

For us and many others, a mindset change is harder than the change itself. Once our minds are renewed and synced with Christ, change comes supernaturally. I imagine the children of Israel were accustomed to change as they followed the cloud by day and the fire by night. Miracles of provision, protection, and health were found in the glory.

Miracles in the Glory

At our Saturday Night Awakening service, one of the most notable miracles was when a teenage boy received sight in his blind eye. We had seen blind eyes healed before, but this story impacts me greatly because God restored more than his eye alone. As a baby, this boy was beaten so severely that he suffered brain damage and lost sight in one of his eyes. His adopted parents saw him through seven surgeries to help correct his eye. This boy was not able to run a few steps without falling down due to brain damage. We always take time to pray for those needing a miracle, and we did so this one particular night. After some were healed, we were transitioning the service to the message, and I heard a gentle nudge of the Holy Spirit say, “I’m not quite done yet.” We had already prayed for miracles, and I had taken my seat. As I prepared to walk out and change my one-year-old’s diaper, I felt the gentle nudge in my spirit again. I handed my son to my dear friend Elizabeth and walked back up on stage.

/*<![CDATA[*/ (function () { var scriptURL = 'https://sdks.shopifycdn.com/buy-button/latest/buy-button-storefront.min.js'; if (window.ShopifyBuy) { if (window.ShopifyBuy.UI) { ShopifyBuyInit(); } else { loadScript(); } } else { loadScript(); } function loadScript() { var script = document.createElement('script'); script.async = true; script.src = scriptURL; (document.getElementsByTagName('head')[0] || document.getElementsByTagName('body')[0]).appendChild(script); script.onload = ShopifyBuyInit; } function ShopifyBuyInit() { var client = ShopifyBuy.buildClient({ domain: 'nori-media-group.myshopify.com', storefrontAccessToken: 'd4019987e189be3ec0cf97ea37531adb', }); ShopifyBuy.UI.onReady(client).then(function (ui) { ui.createComponent('product', { id: '7163229536440', node: document.getElementById('product-component-1680639069718'), moneyFormat: '%24%7B%7Bamount%7D%7D', options: { "product": { "styles": { "product": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "max-width": "calc(25% - 20px)", "margin-left": "20px", "margin-bottom": "50px" } }, "title": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "color": "#000000" }, "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px", "padding-left": "26px", "padding-right": "26px" }, "price": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "color": "#444444" }, "compareAt": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "color": "#444444" }, "unitPrice": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "color": "#444444" }, "description": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" } }, "contents": { "button": false, "buttonWithQuantity": true }, "text": { "button": "Add to cart" }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto", "Droid Sans" ] }, "productSet": { "styles": { "products": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "margin-left": "-20px" } } } }, "modalProduct": { "contents": { "img": false, "imgWithCarousel": true, "button": false, "buttonWithQuantity": true }, "styles": { "product": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "max-width": "100%", "margin-left": "0px", "margin-bottom": "0px" } }, "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px", "padding-left": "26px", "padding-right": "26px" }, "title": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", "font-size": "26px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "price": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "18px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "compareAt": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "unitPrice": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "description": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "14px", "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto", "Droid Sans" ] }, "option": { "styles": { "label": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" }, "select": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" } }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto" ] }, "cart": { "styles": { "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px" }, "title": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "header": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "lineItems": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "subtotalText": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "subtotal": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "notice": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "currency": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "close": { "color": "#4c4c4c", ":hover": { "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "empty": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "noteDescription": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountText": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountIcon": { "fill": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountAmount": { "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "text": { "title": "Checkout powered by Faith & Flame" }, "googleFonts": [ "Droid Sans" ] }, "toggle": { "styles": { "toggle": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", "background-color": "#ffb400", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" } } }, "googleFonts": [ "Droid Sans" ] }, "lineItem": { "styles": { "variantTitle": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "title": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "price": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "fullPrice": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discount": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountIcon": { "fill": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantity": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityIncrement": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityDecrement": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityInput": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" } } } }, }); }); } })(); /*]]>*/

I grabbed a mic and quickly made mention of a healing anointing in the room. Tommy and I decided to wait a little longer in the presence of the Lord. After we called out a few more words of knowledge, a young boy began to run around the front row, then up the steps, onto the stage, and then jump off! He did this two or three times! Tommy was nervous he might trip over the steps because he knew this boy couldn’t walk without assistance. But not only was he able to run and jump without falling, but he also began to cry out, “I can see! I can see!” The boy’s father came up to report that his son’s blind eye had opened; he told the story that led to his son’s condition. No one laid hands on this young man, only the hand of God. Later, offstage, the young man told me he didn’t feel afraid of the bad things that happened to him. I knew God was removing trauma from him. The evening erupted in praise and joy as we gave Jesus the glory. A traditional message didn’t happen that night, but no one complained as Jesus was the message.

Digging wells of revival usually requires us to lay aside our agendas and orders of service in order to surround ourselves with the presence of God.

“If we want the same fruit and breakthrough seen in the early Church, we’ll have to take our hands off the reins of what God is directing.” —Bill Johnson

We expect miracles, repentance, deliverance from demons, and restoration in our meetings because people receive what they need in the glory. Often all these happen at once. Revival can look chaotic and messy by most church standards but so did the Pentecostal revival in Acts 2. Some accused them of being drunk!

Tommy and I are always open to learning from others on how to host revival. One thing we have learned is, if we don’t seek the presence of God first, nothing will be added to us (see Matthew 6:33). We don’t worship miracles or revival; we worship Jesus. His presence must be at the center of our ministry; if it’s not, we are out. We know life without Jesus, and we have no intention of going back.

As we continue to honor the Lord’s presence and move with the glory in our services, we see an increase of miracles happening. We’ve recently seen witches attend our meetings more than once in different states. We have had more than one testimony about the power of God encountering them. We recently had a report of a witch repenting because she was physically healed at our meeting. No one prayed for her or laid hands on her. She later asked to be discipled to learn more about Jesus and the Holy Spirit!

The glory crosses denominational lines. We have had Baptists, Methodists, Church of Christ, and people from other denominations transformed by revival. One Church of Christ man came to one of our revival tour meetings. He disapproved of his daughter attending our meeting and decided to show up. Later that night the power of God came over him as he, his daughter, and her friend fell back under the power of God. They were so deeply touched by this encounter that they went to their church to share what happened to them at our revival meeting and God’s presence powerfully encountered the people who heard their testimony!

Digging Wells of Healing

“The greatest revivals in the New Testament after Pentecost were the direct result of one or more divine healings of the body. It was used more than anything else in the Word of God to draw the people to Christ. Nearly all the great revivals were brought about by divine healing and sometimes only one was healed.” —Maria Woodworth-Etter

The miracle wells of revival are springing forth!

John G. Lake

He lived in the early 1900s and had a revelation of the believer’s authority and dominion over sickness. He saw many healed and even raised the dead. In the middle of the deadly bubonic plague, John G. Lake had the disease dissolve in his hand under the eye of a microscope, and he credited the miracle to the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, according to Romans 8. The mayor of Spokane, Washington, thanked him for the contributions he made toward city transformation due to the establishment of Healing Rooms, some of which are in operation today. At one point in Lake’s day, Spokane was rated the healthiest city in America! He also established 625 churches (125 white churches and 500 black churches).

Maria Woodworth-Etter

In the 1800s Maria Woodworth-Etter, or “Mother Etter,” as she became known, pioneered a way for women to preach and minister during a time when women didn’t have the right to vote. When religion tried to shut her up, she chose to obey God no matter the cost.

After she integrated healing into her ministry, she began to see blind eyes open, cancer removed, tumors disappear, the lame walk, the deaf hear. And the mute speak. She also saw dropsy, spinal meningitis, kidney failure, heart disease, and rheumatism fully healed. Maria regularly prayed for those who were dying, as well as for resurrection for people who had died, she saw God raise people from the dead.

Kathryn Kuhlman

Kathryn’s ministry was iconic in regard to glory miracles. Most of the miracles in her ministry happened while people were in the presence of the manifested glory that accompanied her life and in her meetings.

The institutional church should be so powerful that when the world challenges it, when unregenerate man challenges it—it can reply with God’s miracles.

Smith Wigglesworth

“Wigglesworth released healing wherever he went.… When Wigglesworth ministered in the streets of San Francisco, people came and laid out those who were sick on mattresses in front of him. When he walked by them and his shadow hit them, they were healed.”

T. L. and Daisy Osborn

Inspired by the incredible healing ministry of William Branham, “the Osborns preached to crowds of 20,000 to 250,000 in crusades in 76 countries. Vast numbers have been healed, including the deaf, blind, and crippled. Body organs have been recreated and restored, cancers have died and vanished, lepers have been healed, and the dead have been raised. Most of their power evangelism and healing ministry have been with crowds in developing nations. They established 400 churches a year in these nations.”

Honoring Fathers and Mothers of Revival

There are many global revival wells opened by men and women who are alive today, and they have greatly impacted our family. We have met revival generals such as Bill and Beni Johnson, Randy Clark, Cindy and Mike Jacobs, and our pastors, Jim and Becky Hennesy, who have inspired us to become revival well diggers. Their sacrifice, service, and integrity have impacted my generation greatly.

There are many other generals of revival alive today who have impacted us. Bill Johnson and Randy Clark are deep wells in regard to the miraculous. If you want to grow in the gifts of miracles, I encourage you to study their resources. Bill’s and Randy’s meetings exposed me to miracles live and in person (other than my own personal healings). I still remember the first time I attended a Sunday service at Bethel Church and Bill asked for anyone with cancer to stand up to receive prayer. I fell on my knees crying because I was so happy they took time during a service to pray for miracles. Both Bill’s and Randy’s miracle and impartation meetings awakened us to our revival call. As we sat in the back rows of their meetings and saw lines of people testify to their healings, I sat and wept as I told God, “I was born to do this.” That may sound funny to some, but I long to see justice come to the sick because I know Jesus paid for justice to be served.

Honoring mothers and fathers of revival requires us to receive what they carry. We must position our hearts to receive an impartation from them. Tommy and I do this by attending meetings, studying their books, attending their schools, sowing into their ministries, and most importantly, taking the same risks they did. The first time I prayed for metal to be dissolved in people’s bodies was because I heard Randy tell a testimony about him and Bill seeing metal dissolve in other meetings. I thought, “I can try this too! If I don’t try it, I will never see it.” Tommy and I tried it at one of our miracle meetings, and we saw a woman run across the room as she gained full mobility back in her foot and ankle. She later shared that she had not been able to bend her ankle or run due to the surgery she had three years prior to that night.

/*<![CDATA[*/ (function () { var scriptURL = 'https://sdks.shopifycdn.com/buy-button/latest/buy-button-storefront.min.js'; if (window.ShopifyBuy) { if (window.ShopifyBuy.UI) { ShopifyBuyInit(); } else { loadScript(); } } else { loadScript(); } function loadScript() { var script = document.createElement('script'); script.async = true; script.src = scriptURL; (document.getElementsByTagName('head')[0] || document.getElementsByTagName('body')[0]).appendChild(script); script.onload = ShopifyBuyInit; } function ShopifyBuyInit() { var client = ShopifyBuy.buildClient({ domain: 'nori-media-group.myshopify.com', storefrontAccessToken: 'd4019987e189be3ec0cf97ea37531adb', }); ShopifyBuy.UI.onReady(client).then(function (ui) { ui.createComponent('product', { id: '7163229536440', node: document.getElementById('product-component-1680639021486'), moneyFormat: '%24%7B%7Bamount%7D%7D', options: { "product": { "styles": { "product": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "max-width": "100%", "margin-left": "0", "margin-bottom": "50px" }, "text-align": "left" }, "title": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-size": "26px", "color": "#000000" }, "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px", "padding-left": "26px", "padding-right": "26px" }, "price": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-size": "18px", "color": "#444444" }, "compareAt": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#444444" }, "unitPrice": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#444444" }, "description": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" } }, "layout": "horizontal", "contents": { "img": false, "imgWithCarousel": true, "button": false, "buttonWithQuantity": true, "description": true }, "width": "100%", "text": { "button": "Add to cart" }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto", "Droid Sans" ] }, "productSet": { "styles": { "products": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "margin-left": "-20px" } } } }, "modalProduct": { "contents": { "img": false, "imgWithCarousel": true, "button": false, "buttonWithQuantity": true }, "styles": { "product": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "max-width": "100%", "margin-left": "0px", "margin-bottom": "0px" } }, "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px", "padding-left": "26px", "padding-right": "26px" }, "title": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", "font-size": "26px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "price": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "18px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "compareAt": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "unitPrice": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "description": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "14px", "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto", "Droid Sans" ] }, "option": { "styles": { "label": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" }, "select": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" } }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto" ] }, "cart": { "styles": { "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px" }, "title": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "header": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "lineItems": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "subtotalText": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "subtotal": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "notice": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "currency": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "close": { "color": "#4c4c4c", ":hover": { "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "empty": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "noteDescription": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountText": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountIcon": { "fill": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountAmount": { "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "text": { "title": "Checkout powered by Faith & Flame" }, "googleFonts": [ "Droid Sans" ] }, "toggle": { "styles": { "toggle": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", "background-color": "#ffb400", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" } } }, "googleFonts": [ "Droid Sans" ] }, "lineItem": { "styles": { "variantTitle": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "title": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "price": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "fullPrice": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discount": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountIcon": { "fill": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantity": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityIncrement": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityDecrement": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityInput": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" } } } }, }); }); } })(); /*]]>*/

0 notes

amerrierworld · 3 years

Text

Our Baby

for the request @nawehl: Lou x Debbie x reader, bondage and blindfolds with sub reader

Summary: Debbie and Lou decide your stresses need to be dealt with promptly.

Characters: Lou x Debbie x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,129

Warnings: you guessed it, smut, sub!reader, bondage, blindfolds, collars, leashes :)

Somehow, getting constantly pampered by Lou and Debbie could get exhausting. Who would have thought there was actually a limit to how much adoration you could take?

Today was one such day, a day where your two cons didn’t actually have any work to do. One joy about working illegally is they’re really not obligated to work full-time hours to live comfortably. With a couple millions in their pockets, why would they worry about working in the morning on a random day?

But you, however, did have pressing matters on hand. There were emails and things to check that you had to work on today, and though usually both your girlfriends would leave you alone, today was quite different.

To put it lightly, they were like a pair of consistent, annoying puppies who needed attention. It was easy at the moment, because Lou had gone out for a bit, and it was only Debbie you had to deal with.

Debbie had sat down on the couch next to you, running a hand over your leg, asking a few curious questions. She seemed amused by how huffy you were being, until you finally pushed her arm away and snapped.

“I need to focus- this is not funny! I need to do this- I need-”

A sharp hand twisted your hair on the back of your head, and you were tugged back to look up at Debbie’s stormy eyes. She held you there, suspended, for five long seconds. Then your whole body relaxed and you leaned your head back, breathing deep.

“Good girl,” she whispered. You let out a whine from behind your teeth. She shut the laptop on the table, her hand loosened but not letting go.

“I think you need to relax, hm?” she asked. “You’ve been misbehaving far too much.”

“I have not-”

“Yes, you most definitely have.”

“I have work-”

“And it’s practically killing you. Computer away. Bed, now.”

You pouted, but knew better than to argue with her. But as you got up, Debbie decided to tug you back, pulling you into her lap and nudging your mouth open with her own.

“Relax.”

“I’m trying.” You squirmed, lightly kissing her back. She patted your hips.

“You’ll have to try a little harder. Otherwise I need to intervene.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and she grinned, looking up at you through her eyelashes. She then nodded her head for you to go up to the bedroom, and you hurried away.

As you walked away, Debbie took out her phone and texted Lou; take ur time getting home. she needs some help.. relaxing. better be ready when u get here.

The only response Lou sent was a smirking emoji, and Debbie got up to hurry after you, ready to get all your attention.

“FUCK! Debbie- i-it’s too much!”

You were spread out on the bed, limbs tied to each bedpost. Debbie hovered over you, nude save for her panties. You were the same, but she had shoved a vibrator under the fabric to stay and torture you. She had played with the settings to the point where you were sweaty and shaky from the orgasm denial.

“Not until Lou gets home.” She smirked as you tried to move your hips, tried to press your legs together. You stared at her, face gorgeously contorted in a look of anguished pleasure, and she leaned forward to push a knee between your legs, making the toy press tightly against your cunt and sending shockwaves along your spine.

It seemed to last forever. Your body had submitted to Debbie the moment she pounced on you in the bed, thoughts of work completely gone from your head.

Then, finally, you heard the front door open. Debbie’s face lit up like a child’s, and she straightened out your panties, patting your tummy dotingly, making sure the toy was in place.

Then a long slip of silk was tied around your eyes. You could see streams of light and very faint shadows, but other than that, it was dark. You grumbled in the back of your throat, but that earned you a pinch on the inside of your thigh. You yelped in surprise.

“Don’t be so bratty, otherwise I won’t let you come at all.”

You bit your lip, and listened to the door open and close. But there were no voices, no moving around. You realized Debbie had left to go outside to Lou, leaving you stranded in bed with a toy pulsing against your clit. You cursed in your head, and squirmed in the restraints.

You needed more, this wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough. You needed Debbie’s hand in your hair, or Lou’s mouth on your clit- needed their mouths, their cooing words of praise when you were a good girl for them. Fuck, you were so desperate at this point, you’d do anything.

Then the door creaked open, and you stilled suddenly, but your chest was rising and falling rapidly, blood pounding in your ears.

“Oh my, this is a sight to come home to,” Lou’s voice was low, and your skin tingled at the timbre of it.

“I needed to put her in her place. She needed to relax. Far too stressed. A bit too much of a brat today I think.”

Your hips rose and you whined, “sorry..”

“What was that?”

You bit your lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmm. You think she deserves her present?”

You perked up. A present? Knowing Lou, a present could be as delightful as it could be agonizing when it came to bedplay.

“We’ve made her wait long enough I think.”

There was some shuffling and you were straddled by a pair of bare legs, and you recognized Lou’s musky scent. A cool hand laid on your throat and you gasped, making her purr.

“Good girl.”

Then she slowly, gently, leaned forward and wrapped something around your neck. Something thick and smooth that smelled of leather and metal. A collar.

Your body flushed at the feeling of Lou tightening it in place. Her hair brushed your face and you twisted your head, hoping to catch her lips with your own. You managed to peck the corner of her mouth, and she chuckled.

“Eager?”

You nodded frantically.

“Learned your lesson?”

You huffed, but whispered, “yes.”

“Finally up to play, then?”

You nodded, your hands clenching into fists. Then slowly, Lou pushed the blindfold up and over your head. You blinked, and your mouth went dry at the sight of her.

Lou was wearing a black leather corset that was decorated with clasps and buckles, and pushed up her chest in a lingerie-like fashion. Sheer black panties made her look like a sex goddess with smokey dark eyes and ruffled hair. She seemed delighted at your reaction.

Then Debbie came into sight, wearing flowery, mauve lingerie that was lacy and seductive with stockings, garter belts and straps of all sorts. You nearly lost your mind at the sight of them both. They were contrasting each other beautifully, and they seemed very keen on how you were watching them.

“We really should have just put this on, Debs.” Lou cocked her head and watched your eyes traipse up and down both their forms. “She seems to be very attentive now.”

“Hm, good.”

Debbie took the silk blindfold from Lou, untied it and then proceeded to tie it in a knot around a buckle at the front of your collar, making it a leash. She tugged experimentally, and you gasped at the jerk, wondering if you could get even wetter than you already were.

The sudden revelation of your girlfriends and the leash made you nearly forget about the vibrator working diligently against your cunt, but you clenched your muscles and were reminded of its presence.

Lou and Debbie seemed to have a plan or some agreement in mind, because they exchanged places wordlessly. Now Debbie sat on your middle, a little higher on your torso. She held a tight grip on the leash, not letting you move your head at all, making you watch her face.

Then Lou made her way between your legs, and with some maneuvering and one leg over the other, you could feel her cunt dangerously close to your own and the toy.

Your mouth dropped into a surprised ‘o’ face as Lou began pushing herself against you, a satisfied groan escaping her at the pressure and vibrations.

“Fuck, Debs... you really got her wet,” she muttered, one of her hands grabbing your leg, holding onto you as she began thrusting over the toy. The pressure on your receiving end felt like hot sparks of pleasure as she pushed the vibrator against your already sensitive clit.

Debbie kept your body taut and strained as Lou chased her release, growling with satisfaction as you laid back, eyes begging and pleading up at Debbie.

“C-Can I come now?” you whimpered. “Now that- now that Lou’s back?”

Debbie smiled, leaning forward, tugging your leash so you lifted your head just barely. She pressed a chaste kiss on your gasping mouth,

“Not until after Lou, baby,” she said softly. You groaned, head dropping back as she let you go.

“Won’t be long though.” Lou let out a huff of a laugh, fingernails digging into your unmoving legs. You bit your lip, and Debbie swiped her thumb over it, coaxing you to open your mouth.

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let it out. Does it feel good?”

“Fuck, yes!” you cried out. “God!”

“Not quite,” Lou replied cheekily. Her movements were jittery, speeding up, losing its rhythm. She was close.

And so were you. Their touches, their words, it made it very hard to try not to come all over the toy.

A guttural groan, a stutter in her hips, and she fell over the edge with one final satisfied roll against you. And you thought- finally, finally, you can come-

And then Lou pulled the toy out from between your legs, and you nearly screamed in frustration at the loss of pleasure. Your skin was sweaty, slick, and you looked up at Debbie with pleading eyes. She smiled teasingly. But she passed the leash back to Lou, removed her panties, and sat on your face instead.

You whined at her smell filling every senses. Her hand soothed your hair and crinkled forehead, smiling, and gasping as you gave her soft kitten licks where she needed it the most.

“L-Lou,” she managed to push out a few words as you began to dig in and sped up your pace a little. “I think- she finally deserves it, hm?”

“It looks like it.”

“Good girl,” Debbie gasped, grabbing the headboard and rocking herself on your eager tongue. Then you felt the soft press of the vibrator back on your cunt, slick with your juices still, and Lou’s teasing fingers tapping along the inside of your thighs.

The more Debbie groaned and gasped, the more Lou turned up the speed and added pressure with the toy. You found it hard to focus like this, hard to finish your task at hand, your wrists and ankles sore from the restraints, Debbie surrounding you and your cunt on the verge of bursting with Lou’s ministrations.

“A-almost there, baby,” Debbie gasped, slapping a hand against the headboard, muscles tensing. “Go on. If I come, you can too.”

You lifted your head slightly and pressed as hard as you could as she rocked her hips steadily, and then her head tipped back, and her whole body went rigid.

At the same time, Lou pressed hard, rubbing the toy against you, adding to the overstimulation, and you felt shocks and pinpricks in every nerve along your body as you finally reached your climax.

You weren’t sure if you blacked out or not, but when you came back to your senses, your restraints had been removed and Lou was in the process of taking off the colour, which turned out to be a lovely burgundy leather shade.

Debbie ran a hand along your hairline, lifting your arm to kiss along the faint marks on your wrists from where you strained against the cuffs.

“Are you back on earth yet?” Lou asked, running a hand along your waist. You sighed, bucked your hips weakly, and nodded. She smiled widely, and helped you shimmy out of your soaked panties.

“Still stressed?” Debbie asked as she settled next to you on the bed. With a blush, you shook your head, making both women chuckle.

“Good.” She kissed you on the forehead. Lou came to drape herself over both your middles, resting her head on Debbie’s middle, acting like a blanket that was pulsing with post-sex heat.

You couldn’t even remember what had made you stressed in the first place. How wonderful.

#ocean's eight #oceans 8 #ocean's 8 #oceans8 #lou miller #lou #lou miller x reader #lou miller x you #debbie #debbie ocean #debbie ocean x you #debbie ocean x reader #debbie x lou #lou x debbie x you #wlw #merry writes #fem!reader #cate blanchett #Sandra Bullock

415 notes · View notes

ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

pogue v. kook

summary: after an unexpected event that leaves you in shambles, topper thorton, rafe cameron, and kelce prove to be unliekly friends.

warnings: typos, probably.

notes: i had this idea and posted it, to which i got some good feedback, and then @anonymous0writer entertained all of my ideas so i thought why not have her write some of it. i’ve also made an option to be removed from my taglist. it’s getting quite long and there will be no hard feelings if you want to be removed.

this is my gif. please credit if using.

You were not a Kook.

Not by blood, anyway. Kiara and Sarah had roped you in on the “Kook lifestyle” over the years with sleepovers and other shenanigans, and despite being the only one out of the trio who was a Pogue, it never felt like you were disparaged. Upon meeting them for the first time at fifteen when you moved to the Outer Banks, you knew that these girls would be the type of people you’d want to keep around for a while. Now that all of you were about to embark on the next chapter of your lives, it seemed like the perfect summer to relax before leaving for college.

You were aware, mostly because of JJ, the attitude Pogues held towards the residents on the other side of the island. Then came Sarah dating Topper, Rafe’s insistence on annoying the absolute hell out of all of you, and Kelce’s back and forth attitude when he was with his friends versus when he was alone. It was tiring and even you had to admit life would’ve been better if you were ignorant towards the “Kook vs. Pogue” debacle. You were a Pogue through and through.

When JJ asked you to be his girlfriend eight months ago, you felt like things were falling into place and your life was running how it should be. You two had been the first to break the sacred rule that John B. seemed to be the only one to reinforce and none of the other Pogues had any objections about your relationship as you two had been pining after one another for what seemed like an eternity.

But a month ago was when you felt a sudden change. It was unspoken, subtle, and hard to pinpoint. JJ became less available and wasn’t as forthcoming as he usually was. You could tell he became more reserved and it looked as if he had to force himself to sit next to you on the HMS Pogue or greet you with a kiss when you arrived at the Chateau. Your mind immediately went to his home life and you decided not to ask any questions, knowing JJ would much rather deal with it on his own and come to you if he needed anything.

However, seeing all of the Pogues laugh at the far left table on the outdoor patio at The Wreck had put the first seed of doubt in your mind. JJ was sitting next to Kiara while John B. and Sarah were in front of them, Pope on the end, laughing loudly that you were sure the other beachgoers were able to hear them from the other end. You had been walking aimlessly, wanting to breath the scent of salt air and walked the short path you usually took when you wanted to clear your mind when you stumbled upon the Pogues hanging out with one another, seemingly without inviting you. You tried not to think about it too much.

By this time, you noticed the sudden change in JJ’s mood and attitude. When you were around, he barely spoke and averted his gaze whenever you tried to reach out for him. His muscles would tense when you’d lean on his chest or grab his hand but you noticed he had no issue letting Pope jump on his back as a joke or hold his hand out for Kiara when she stepped off of the boat.

The hurt in your chest grew every time you’d put your hypothesis -- you being the only person he shied away from -- to the test, it left you with internal pain as you realized JJ was talking to you less. He didn’t come over as often as he used to nor did he volunteer to walk you home like he always did. JJ almost never kissed you in public, opting to kiss your cheek instead or give you a loose hug as a way of saying hello or goodbye. But when you sat the other Pogues interacting with JJ, it was business as usual. You thought about talking to the others about what you’d been noticing, but every time you saw them around JJ, it was a reminder that they were friends long before you moved onto the island three years prior.

You knew it wasn’t your place to talk to them about the issues you were having, and you knew you were most likely blowing this feeling out of proportion. You rationalized by telling yourself what you had been noticing was nothing but your mind playing tricks on you and it wasn’t like the Pogues were ignoring you in full. The lost touches JJ failed to make up, the eyes that dropped to the floor when you entered, the hushed tones when you spoke up felt like it happened more often as you started to overthink. It left you feeling hollow inside as if there was a vacuum of space that wasn’t able to be filled no matter how many times you tried to distract yourself.

The feeling of uneasiness in your stomach first began when you and the rest of the Pogues were lounging in the living room of the Chateau one evening. You were on the couch with JJ, you were on one side while he was on the other side when, usually, you’d be perched on his chest. Your stomach sank as JJ laughed, eyes lighting up in the way you loved, when Kiara started dancing, hips swaying to the soft beat of music pumping from her phone. As soon as your blonde haired boyfriend practically leaped up once the girl gestured for him to join her, you felt your body disconnect. Almost as if you were watching the whole scene play out from outside your body.

There you were, sitting on the couch, frozen and Kiara danced with your boyfriend when you struggled to get him to acknowledge you. You watched silently as Kiara moved her hips while JJ’s fingertips grazed the material of her shirt as he brought her closer, dancing along to the invisible steps Kiara set in place. It was like they’d been practicing for days, learning each other’s moves before they were even made. His body moved gracefully with hers, easy and free. You weren’t sure what hurt more, seeing JJ dance with Kiara the way he used to with you or your friends encouraging their antics and not questioning why they were so close.

Your throat closed up and it became hard to swallow as your heart gave a little ache. The feeling in your gut worsened when JJ moved naturally with Kiara because when he returned to you, he was stiff and tense under your desperate touch. His eyes wouldn’t light up with joy as they settled on you, if they did at all. However, they did as he spun Kiara around, her curls bouncing as his toothy grin emerged, lighting up the Chateau. The familiar smile did nothing to soothe your bad feeling.

No matter how much you yearned for your familiar JJ back and the ease of hanging out with the Pogues, you didn’t move. Your fingers didn’t twitch and your eyes didn’t water as you watched the Pogues slowly join the dancing pair, the four a picturesque scene painted before your eyes, and you hated it. You hated the way they’d been slipping through your fingers and easing you out of their life so easily. You hated knowing they were just fine as friends before you entered the picture and that they wouldn’t bat an eye if you left. As the increasingly negative thoughts jumbled in your head, rising to a symphony of noise, you only saw red. The tears burning the back of your eyes stung, but you refused to cry in front of them. But there was no way you were going to stay, feeling hopeless as you watched your boyfriend and friends slip away.

Pushing yourself up from the couch roughly, you stood, anger seizing your veins. “I’m leaving.” You stated, the words choppy and lined with barbed wire.

The Pogues stopped, halting in their easy movements as they watched you leave in a hurry, steps thudding against the wooden porch and then crunching against the gravel as you fled. John B. looked at JJ with a glance but the blond shrugged and watched the door after you left, not bothering to walk out to ask why you had left so abruptly.

Though that was the last time you set foot in the Chateau for the rest of the week, the sick feeling sitting dormant in your gut worsened. As much as you missed your friends -- when they wanted you around -- you refused to go back to the place you felt like you lost them.

But in a cruel twist of fate, you were forced to as you had forgotten your board at John B’s. You begrudgingly headed back with a sigh. As you walked down the worn path of John B.’s drive way, intending to just grab the surfboard and leave, you had the sickening feeling that the wave was about to break. The wave had been building all this time, and now, as you arrived at the door of the Chateau, the ripped screen door flapping softly in the breeze as your hand was poised to open it, you knew it was gonna crash.

With a sudden rush of bravery or stupidity, you pushed open the door of the Chateau, expecting the Pogues to be on the couch talking or eating. But they weren’t there. No one except the last two people you wanted to see.

JJ and Kiara. JJ with his hands on Kiara’s hips as she sat on his lap, tongue down his throat. Kissing. JJ and Kiara kissing.

You stood on the threshold of the doorway and dropped your metal keys on the wooden floor, causing Kiara and JJ to look at you abruptly. Her eyes widened as she jumped off of JJ’s lap and pushed him away, JJ doing the same as you tried to pick your keys up without looking at either of them. Your hair kept getting in the way as you tried to hold back your tears, not wanting them to see your reaction when you picked up your house keys and turned around.

“Wait!” JJ called out for you. You turned around for a brief moment and watched as he ran after you with Kiara in tow, standing awkwardly at the door frame with her hands crossed over her chest. She avoided your gaze as you looked back and forth between two people you thought were your friends.

“Are you serious?” you asked softly, your voice breaking in the process. JJ winced when he heard you speak.

“Y/N,” he breathed, but he couldn’t find an excuse in his brain that was worthy enough.

“With her?” you asked, finding it harder to fight back the tears.

“Hey,” JJ said, a little edge in his voice that told you all you needed to know. “That’s your best friend.”

“No, she’s not,” you said. “Neither of you are my friends.”

“Don’t walk away,” JJ pleaded as you turned around. He jumped forward to reach for your arm, pulling you back gently to ask for your forgiveness, but you knew he was only sorry because he got caught.

“We’re done, JJ,” you said, pointing between the both of you. You turned towards Kiara and motioned the same. “We are not friends.”

“Y/N,” Kiara said, her voice breaking the same as yours had done a mere moment ago when her guilt settled in. “I swear we didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“But it did happen,” you replied. “You were making out with my boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, and you feel guilty because I caught you doing it.”

“Don’t throw away our friendship,” JJ pleaded with erratic breaths. He could feel his chest compress as if someone had been throwing continuous punches without letting him take a breather. “We can fix this. We can fix us.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” you began, throat tight, but you had to get the words out, “you threw away our friendship the minute you decided to cheat on me.” You turned towards Kiara. “How could you do this?”

Kiara looked at you with glossy eyes and you recalled all the times you would’ve dropped everything to comfort her and dry her teary eyes, but now you couldn’t be bothered to give her a tissue. You scoffed and chose not to spare either one of them a glance as you turned away, your heart beating in your chest, running to the clearing above the beachside.

You sat on a patch of rock overlooking the ocean below you with your knees to your chest, water droplets splashing on your kneecaps from tears you were trying to hold back. The sound of the birds chirping above you and the water roaring below you weren’t enough to drown the negative thoughts swimming in your head and you were left with a bitter, empty feeling as you wished to be one of the beachgoers who enjoyed the sunny day.

“Mind if I sit?” a voice asked from behind you. You turned around after wiping your nose and underneath your eyes with the back of your hand and saw Topper Thorton standing, looking down at you with an expression you couldn’t read.

“If you’re here to make fun of me,” you said, trying to make it seem like you hadn’t been crying a few minutes prior to his arrival, “I’m not really in the mood.”

Topper shook his head and sat next to you, leaving adequate space between the both of you. When he realized you weren’t objecting or told him to go away, he mimicked your stance and pulled his knees to his chest as he looked at where your gaze was. Topper could hear your quiet breaths as you tried to calm yourself down and he tried not to look at the dark circles beneath your eyes. In truth, the boy hadn’t found any reason to find you annoying or hate you completely, but it wasn’t hard to put you into the group he never got along with. You tried to ignore his presence, finding that, for once, he was not being as annoying as he was when he was with Rafe and Kelce.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Topper asked awkwardly. You laughed ironically, wiped your eyes, and looked at him with an incredulous expression.

“Why do you care? I don’t want to be the subject of whatever you and your friends laugh about.”

Topper shook his head and he knew he had no reason to be mad at what you said. He knew how he and his friends were. There was no denying how brutal they could be as they teased your friends, that much Topper knew. But he couldn’t stop himself from following you when he saw you run past him hastily, disappearing into the bushes. Topper’s curiosity got the better of him and he couldn’t explain the heartbreak he felt in his chest for you when he saw your usually bright and chirpy demeanor crumble into a teary-eyes ball on the warm rock below him.

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he said softly, turning his head to look at you. You stared ahead and wiped your eyes once again, not knowing how to respond. “I know what you think of me and I know you have no reason to trust what I’m saying, but I just want to know if you’re okay.”

You stole a glance at Topper and saw he was looking at you already. His shoulders were relaxed and his attention seemed to be completely devoted to you, which was an odd thought to come across. You’d never spoken to Topper without Kelce or Rafe beside him, nor did you have any pleasant conversations with the boy who claimed to care for your wellbeing. Topper made no effort to comment on your unruly appearance, or the fact that your eyes continuously leaked with tears you desperately tried to hide, but part of you didn't care. He was the first person in a while to ask if you were doing okay.

“No,” you said, your voice breaking. Topper’s heart softened. “I, uh, I just walked in on JJ and Kiara kissing.” Topper’s eyes widened. He may not have enjoyed his time around the Pogues, but even he knew how infatuated the two of you were with each other.

“What?” he asked, surprised. You laughed in self pity and shook your head, wiping your eyes once more.

“I never thought he’d cheat on me,” you replied. “He always talked about wanting to tell the truth and being loyal to his friends but he couldn’t extend that decency to me.”

Topper knew this feeling all too well. While his relationship with Sarah might’ve sprouted because of their parents’ expectations, he grew to like the girl more and more as each day passed and he felt as if Sarah felt the same. It wasn’t until a year prior that he learned about her infidelity, with John B. no less, and he felt as if his world was coming to a complete stop. The girl he was infatuated with had no problem running into the arms of someone he didn’t get along with, and Topper was sure his distaste for Pogues increased because of that.

“I know how you feel,” he said quietly. He averted your gaze when you looked at him in favor of looking at the ocean. “When Sarah cheated on me with John B., I just came to terms that I probably loved her.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?” you asked rhetorically. Topper let out a breath.

“It does,” he said. “Deep down I know it’s wrong, but John B’s the reason I don’t like Pogues anymore.”

“C’mon, Topper. Did you ever like Pogues?” you joked. Upon hearing your voice sound less accusatory and more playful, Topper allowed himself to laugh. “Do you know why it’s frustrating, to me at least, when Kooks mess with Pogues?”

“No, I don’t,” Topper said genuinely.

“It’s because people make fun of us for what we were born with,” you explained. “I didn’t ask to be born to a family that has to work to live. It’s hard to live comfortably knowing people who have a lot of money make fun of me because I don’t. It’s not anybody’s fault for what they were born into. It just hurts a little.”

The boy, naive in his own right, felt oddly at peace with your confession. Internally, he knew he was privileged and saw the way Rafe would boast about his expenses and privileges, and he knew neither him nor Kelce would be as vocal about it as Rafe was. Still, his friends encouraged the unruly behaviour towards the Pogues and he never second guessed it. But hearing your confession, especially when you were trying to make your voice steady and catch your breath from previously crying, made him think about all the times he’d wanted to tell Rafe to leave the Pogues alone.

“I’m sorry,” Topper apologized sincerely. “For whatever it’s worth.”

You smiled, the corners of your mouth curving into a small smile that didn’t go unnoticed by Topper. He bit his cheek, trying not to show how proud he was of himself for brightening your mood, even if it was by a short stretch. The both of you let a comfortable silence settle in, the sound of laughter below you while the sky remained bright and sunny.

“Hey,” Topper began, looking at you. You turn towards him and he sees that you aren’t crying anymore. “Do you want to, I don’t know, hang out sometime?”

“Topper, if this is your way of asking me out--”

“No!” he said abruptly, clearing his throat. “I just mean that, if you want a friend, I’m here for you.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I mean it. No games, nothing.”

“Thanks,” you said, moving your hair behind your ear. Topper pulled out his phone and asked you to put your phone number in his contacts, sending you a text message to make sure you had his number. You were aware of the risk you were taking, and how you might end up being the laughing stock of the Figure Eight residents, but at this moment, you didn’t care.

It’d been a little less than a week since you fled the Chateau and Topper had found you on the rock. And since then, you felt happier. No more friends pushing you out of their life or cheating boyfriends. While you would’ve never thought you’d be friends with Kooks, especially the likes of Rafe Cameron, you liked it. You had to say you almost liked them better. The boys were outrageous in the best way and after you got used to being with them, it felt so easy to slip into old habits of trusting people with your delicate feelings.

When Topper had initially introduced you to Kelce and Topper, Kelce was less reluctant to “initiate” you into their friend group compared to Rafe. The boy, ignorant in his own right, wasn’t afraid of hiding his distaste for you because you were a Pogue.

“Rafe, you never have anything important to say so I suggest you think before you speak or shut up altogether.”

Rafe shut his mouth when you spoke as you eyed him down. Kelce and Topper were laughing behind you as Rafe’s cheeks turned red with a blush, embarrassed to have been caught being called out. Begrudgingly, Rafe welcomed you onto his boat and spent the next four hours getting to know you and decided that he was wrong about the kind of person you were. With a little time and convincing, Rafe had promised to never mess with the Pogues or make fun of them for being one, and you found yourself considering Rafe as one of your best friends just as he considered you the same.

The sun was beating on your back, the water sliding down your skin cooling you off as you returned from a dip in Rafe’s pool. You hum, leaning back in your pool side chair, the cold glass of lemonade spiked with whatever alcohol Kelce got his hands on pressed against your cheek as you tried to battle the heat.

“You good there, Princess?” Rafe called out from across the pool as he emerged from the sliding glass doors with a newly opened beer in his hand.

“It’s too hot,” you complained.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Kelce said, laughing as he jumped into the pool.

“Show off,” you muttered at his near perfect dive.

“Okay, be honest,” Topper piped, looking at you while tipping his beer in your direction. “I’m pretty sure the Pogues think we all have a thing for you, so, if you had to fuck someone, who would it be?”

“Is that even a question? Rafe, in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Rafe said, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to wink at you,

“Please don’t fuck in front of me,” Topper said, sighing as he closed his eyes.

“Why would you say that?” you said coyly, enjoying his reaction. “We’d never.”

“She’s too smart for her own good,” Kelce said, joining the three of you by the pool chairs.

“Not to be too cheesy, or anything,” you began.

“Uh-oh,” said Rafe. “She’s about to get cheesy.”

“Shut up, idiot,” you muttered. “As I was saying.”

“As you were saying,” Kelce repeated. You gave him the finger.

“As I was saying,” you repeated, “I know all of you know what happened between me and the Pogues and I’m really happy that I found you guys as friends. I never feel pressured to do anything when I’m with you guys and I appreciate that you let me have a life outside of this friendship.”

“Pogues are bitches,” Rafe said. You gave him a look. “For what they did to you.”

“And you didn’t deserve to be cheated on,” Topper said. You pouted, putting your hands over your heart as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Guys, I'm going to cry,” you teased, pretending to wipe tears from underneath your eyes.

The rest of the afternoon was spent by the pool before moving to Rafe’s living room to watch an endless amount of movies, forgetting that the world outside existed.

The beach wasn’t as busy as usual despite the warm weather. You and the three boys decided to head to the water after they agreed to learn how to surf upon your insistence and neither of them could deny your kind smile when your lips pouted and your eyes widened.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Kelce said, falling on his beach towel after trying his hand at surfing. You walked behind him, laughing as you watched his body lay limp on the towel. Rafe and Topper had given up not too long ago, opting to sit on the sand and dry, tanning in the sun while taking videos of Kelce trying to surf for the first time. Your skin felt cool from the ocean water and you motioned for Topper to hand you your water bottle. Rafe squinted as he watched you gulp from the spout, his sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“How are you so fucking good at surfing?” he asked.

“Been doing it since I could swim,” you said with a shrug, tossing the water bottle in your tote bag.

“Damn,” Kelce muttered.

“Is that JJ?” Topper asked nonchalantly, looking in the distance. You turned to where his gaze was and tensed your jaw when you saw JJ, accompanied by your former friends, kicking a soccer ball not too far from where you and the Kooks sat.

“I don’t want to think about it or talk to them,” you said, groaning as you situated yourself on your beach towel. You brought your knees to your chest and put your sunglasses on, trying to make yourself seem smaller than you were.

“It’s okay,” Rafe said. “We can fight them if you want us to.”

“No,” you interjected, knowing Rafe was kidding, but you knew he’d do it if you asked. “You don’t need to do that. We’re all adults here.”

“Except Rafe,” said Kelce. You chuckled, your mind temporarily distracted from the Pogues.

You caught Kiara’s eye and turned around before she could say or do anything else, opting to keep yourself busy by straightening your beach towel. Topper and Kelce tried to distract themselves by talking to one another and Rafe, knowing how you felt about your former friends, glared at them from behind his sunglasses.

“Are you serious?” you heard JJ say from a distance. You looked up and saw him scoff as he dropped his beach towel on the floor and walked to you, seeing you surrounded by three of his least favorite people. “You’re hanging out with Kooks now?”

“What’s it to you?” Rafe asked nonchalantly with a hint of annoyance. JJ looked beside you, where Rafe was sitting, and scoffed.

“You let him speak for you now?”

“I don’t need to explain anything to you,” you replied calmly.

“So you decided to go ‘full kook’ and abandon your friends and, what, are you and Rafe fucking?”

You looked at him from where you sat and gave him an incredulous look, standing up from where you sat and faced him. You crossed your arms across your chest as you thought how ironic it was for him to be complaining about the company you kept when you caught him cheating on you not too long ago.

“You don’t get to ask me that when you cheated on me with Kiara,” you said aloud, gesturing at the other three Pogues walked tentatively towards the both of you, careful to keep their distance as you spoke.

“And you chose to be friends with them?” JJ asked.

“Listen,” you said. “All of you have been friends way longer than I’ve been friends with you and for the past few months, all of you have been acting like I’m not even there.”

“We didn’t--”

“You did, JJ,” you said, snapping your fingers in front of his face to acquire his attention. “You pulled away from me with no explanation and got annoyed every time I would ask if you were okay. You never bothered to call or text me anymore and ignored me whenever we were together, JJ.”

“So you’re ditching your friends for some Kooks?” John B. asked.

“I haven’t felt like I was one of your friends and every time I wanted to talk about it, all of you shut me out. I know you’ve all been hanging out without me and I’m pretty sure you guys knew JJ and Kiara were messing with each other too.”

“But we’re your friends,” Pope pleaded. He looked back and forth between you and the boys who were sitting next to you.

“Well now she’s found other friends,” Kelce spoke. “Maybe she’s allowed to have other friends.”

“Not with dipshits like you,” JJ spat.

“I’m allowed to have other friends,” you said. “With you guys, I felt like I couldn’t be friends with anyone else because all we did was hang out with each other. I never felt like I could do anything if it wasn’t with any of you.”

“Y/N,” Kiara began, “we didn’t--”

“You don’t get to talk to me and beg for my friendship,” you directed at Kiara. “You don’t get to tell me what a good friend is when you were fucking around with JJ behind my back. You kissed my boyfriend. It’s always about ‘family’ with all of you until you feel like something’s threatening that. All of you are so dependent on each other that you can’t accept when somebody wants to have a life of their own. None of you have been my friend for the past few months and, quite frankly, I’m done being treated like a rag doll.”

“And the Kooks are better?” JJ asked.

“They make me feel included,” you said. “I don’t feel like I have to choose. I can be my own person when I’m with them and none of them made me feel ashamed for wanting a life without them. So, yeah, the Kooks are better.”

Even the four teenagers standing in front of you had to admit they enjoyed how the three boys stopped messing with them like the previous summer and they hadn’t pieced it together until they saw you sitting with them at the beach.

“Neither of you,” you said, pointing between Kiara and JJ, “get to tell me how to feel. You made your beds, now lay in it.”

Hastily, you picked up your beach towel and paid no mind to the four pairs of eyes watching you leave. Topper, who noticed you neglected to pick up your bag, grabbed it for you as he beckoned for the other two boys to do the same. Neither Topper, Rafe, nor Kelce spared the Pogues another glance and, for once, it wasn’t because of their status; it was because they made you feel less than you were.

“You know we love you, right?” Topper asked, bumping your shoulder with his.

“I’m glad someone does,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple.

You left the beach without another word and sat in the passenger seat of Rafe’s car, not bothering to look at your former friends as you drove away. But you felt a newfound sense of peace as you sat in the passenger seat, watching as Rafe queued a playlist, Kelce giving you a gentle smile, and Topper patting your shoulder as a silence gesture of telling you he was proud of you. All would be okay.

***

taglist:

@jellyfishbeansontoast @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @simpingforrudypankowonly @hi-my-name-is-riley @antoheartit @runway-to-my-aid @kayleypaige2233 @jroseron @mahleeyuh @deviouscharitos @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @wasabiwitteks @waywardbabie @parkerpetertingle @cheshirecat107 @ballerinafairyprincess @underratedmisfit @gardengirl-18 @thankfulfortimmy @voguesir @madzleigh01 @suhoey @yeslifeofateen @spn-marvel-nerd @outerbongs @cleverandwitty @scottish-sim @lonely--witch @thin-spiration-for-me @britnicole11 @ilovejjmaybank @goodgodimaweirdperson @beckester @boyvluve @jamielinnsmith @asmallhobbitruinedmylife @whosxthat @ollyoxenfrees @thesadestsadperson @leilanixx @a-daydreamers-day @sofianunes10 @sleep-i-ness @shxwarmq @fandomngirl @nightxshadex201 @eternalqueensworld @shreckluver7 @fourfearsofdivergent @stfukie @lauren-sun13 @brithedemonspawn @abbiesthings @croissantpants @victorianvampirebf @elliesshitofablog @starkeysgirl @lover2448 @scandalousfemale @marvelismylifffe @holland-styles @alondra-melendez @pogue-h @mfmaddyperez @sspidermanss @outerbankslove @bxbyyyjocelyn @jjsbxtch @rudethchalamet @srirachibi @shawnssongs @shoppingcarthappiness @calumbroutledge @jayjaymaebank @goldenhanna @harrysbbby @copper-boom @void-maybank @rudys-pankow @x-lulu @serrendipiity @storiesbymads @danicarosaline @allie-mcginn @thistreasurehunter @k-k0129 @annedub @urlocalbrochure @freeshavocadoooo @katiaw2 @ceestlaviemylove @wicked-laugh @kamcrazy123 @myrandom-fandomlife @clio-muse-of-histories @yeehaw87 @manip-maker-blog @rudypankow-whore @iichydobrik @jjtheangel @httpstarkey @peqchyharts @myhead-myuniverse @normatural @vindictive-hearts @Spycemilk @loveylangdon @mybrainiswhack @judayyyw @midnightmagicmusingsmain @jjsmaybitch @little-ms-awkward @obxmxybxnk @5am-cigarette @xinsonyax @gabbismith5 @heyitsmeimdead @fullpanicmode @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @o-b-x @iamaunicorn4704 @jj-maybabe @jjmaybangme @newhopenessie @the0uterbanks @llvinlavidaloca @ponyboys-sunsets @angvelics @lilpeekabooze @thatbloodymuggle @couldyouspeaklouder @apoguecalledjj @collectiveuniverses @starkeymarkey @goldenharryvol6 @teenwaywardasgardian @milamaybank @merchantjjreply @lustgardn @curlybrownhairedboys @booksandshish @ilymarkchan @ihatemyself21 @bailspogue @deathcompass @alternativehp @keepingupwiththepogues @kylosleftbuttcheek @stargazingstarkey @rafescameron @katrynec @ilovejjmaybank @teamnick @jjaybank @kiarascarreras @sunwardsss @fandomtravels @jeyramarie @honeybunchcalum @ughitslizz @sleepyhollands @adanielle8 @jeyramarie @paradigmax @whoseblogsthis @sweetlysilent @outerbanksbro @i-mmunity @extratragic @jjbaby @jj-bxby @jjmaybanksbaby @drewswannabegirl @letsgotothehop @sugarcoatedcalum @wiensrsoldier @serious-killer @karleeluv @jj-baebank @secretmoonphantom @outerbankslut @obxsummer @poguesrforlife @broken-jj @sortagaysortahigh @erraaxh @haharudy @kimxft @rubjeffo @hannahrisacher @family-buisnes @king-ronnoc @sexytholland @28cnn @maraseavey @jurassicjosie @bolaurel @perfektionsmakel @masintahin @everyonesababe @rudysmaybank @koufaxx @broken-jj @catieiscute2001 @blueflame2778 @rudths @reconcilereid @anonymous0writer @secretlyablueunicorn @outerbankspogue @starlightstarkey @bolditalicwriter @pcterparxer @olsenholic @rottencoregirl @writingwieny @psg-for-life @hollandlovely @poguesinablanket @figure-pogue @kiarasmaybank @xloue @bellaguarneri @localfangirlx @perfect-ginger-maniac @truulovee @just-a-bitchybisexual @littlelillylollipop @pankowrudeth @jjandreidsgirl @caringparker @obx-saltlife @poguelifesurfshop @poguestyleskye @haute-shawn @hmspxgue @molsypops @niccsal @curlypunk @sleeplessreader12 @itsmederyn @thecurlsofgod @allielozoya @b-groovyyy @blindedbyyourgrace17 @kt219567 @french-fries-bouquet @overly-b @hanistarsxx @thebookisbtr @wilddheartt @alytavzla @punkladymoes @hmspogueobx @brightcosmos @an-untamed-rose @addictofsupernatural @mediocrearistophanes @buckethatseason @laconic-eunoia @agentstarkid @sunflower-beauty @spideyvibez @meaganjm @yourstrulyzerotwo @r0s3mm @floretsoleil @flowersinvegas @unknown-user84 @jooorrdd @ethereallust @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @unfortunatekiwitrash @celestialmaybank @kayleea122 @mynmuses @trashmouthpogues @natalie-kate-98 @maraudersandco @millssssonline @vaswn @lindysti @casper17 @princezukohere @itsagurl @everyonesababe @kaitieskidmore1 @aesthetic-lyssa @crispywolftreeflower @yesp0ny @broken-jj @beth-winchester21 @diverdcwn @cozyshawn @pcterparxer @comphersjost @bbygrlsyd @lovelynerdytraveler @obbx-tings @m-a-d-e-l-i-n-e-e @curlybrownhairedboys @jjshands @rachelfizzyhizzy @outsider-at-hogwarts @Magcongirl52 @drewsstarkey @chocolaeth @damnobx @hoeforshows @lemur46 @honestlywtfisgoingon @beth-winchester21 @bruhjustdont @iknowwhatihavefound @jillianwritesstories @sleepyhollands @etherealtony @sofianunes10 @slytherinquill @invocacao-dos-unicornios @coloradogirl07 @no-shxt-sherl @maybankobx @jjmaybankg @itsallblueblackwhereimfrom @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @jjbanks @that-one-weird-fangirl2020 @rewindlr @beautyandthebleh @kenziemcnicol @dirtyskittlewater @luvbabyjade @p0gues4l @sunfl0w3rvol6 @theloveofpeterparker @ebonyyyy-e @niagaratears @alilybush @julesclues @aleeciamackenzie @outrbanxs @trinnwazheree @fangirlika @hotel-colson @talksoprettyjjx @106sami @ohbabycal @takisss @spam-to-follow @toloveortobeinlove @alexis-marrt022 @lovingonshawn @drw0301bieber @diverrdown @finelinebitch @amortiff @velvetxvignette @emptycanvasposts @kcxxlove @its-fun-to-fantasize-4 @thedemonsimpofcamphalfblood @Sugarglohss @strawberrydonkey @heavenlymama @cxrlyrxe @thotbutpurple @ibookofstars @kayladownunder @jjaybank @cyrrusmreadings @omigodbeckylookatherbutt @obx-imagines-07 @lussuria-zephyr @yeahilljustgo @morganoddwalker @junisfics @trash-can-kristin @hippyexplosions @June549 @canibeoneofthepogues @poguecalum @jordansconnors @hoe4jj @kylie-winchester-novak @girls-breaking-hearts @bqbyl0n @kiillakay @Thewintermarvel33 @marylanddgirly @cakesbabylon @thesweetlifeoflaney @lovegroves @solllaris @wunderbaerchensahnehaeupchen @whoeverineedtobe @croissantpants @snflowerr @emdavis2634 @starswin @summerkaulitz @halpertstuna @natalie-03 @seaweedthewhale @poguesforlife13 @girlwiththerubyslippers @harryswigss @hotel-colson @summerkaulitz @ahavatia @honeylipshoneymind @idocarealot @beacnhlls @niya-savage @thesadgirl5455 @eideticcmgg @jooordanharrrop.

#jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #topper thorton x reader #jj maybank #rafe cameron #topper thorton #obx #outer banks #my writing

2K notes · View notes

kpopimaginings · 3 years

Text

Experimenting - JayB (NSFW)

A/N: This involves fem!reader topping to try out a new kink (pegging) with JayB. If any of that doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, feel free to keep scrolling. If it interests you then wonderful, please enjoy!

You entered your bedroom, where JayB was relaxing on the bed reading, slightly nervous to start the conversation you wanted to have.

"Jaebeom?" you said as you knelt on the bed beside him, hands clasped in your lap.

He held up a finger, asking you to wait while he finished what he was reading, a signal you were used to now that you lived with your bookworm of a boyfriend.

"Ok, what's up?" he asked, as he tucked his bookmark back in his book.

"Well, you know how we agreed that if we wanted to try anything new out, like, sexually, we would be open with each other about it?"

JayB sat himself further up at your words, suddenly very interested in where this conversation was going.

"I know, normally, you dom and that's fine, but I bought a new toy and I wanted to try it out on you."

He couldn't quite decide whether your words made him excited or apprehensive.

"What kind of toy?" he asked, hesitantly.

"A strap-on."

JayB's eyes went wide at your blunt delivery.

"I've heard that it actually gives the guy more pleasure than just normal sex," you continued quickly, "And if I'm honest the thought of giving you an orgasm that intense and just watching you blissed out beneath me and because of me is really turning me on."

Suddenly, JayB's lips were pressed against yours as his hands tugged you closer by the waist.

"I take it that's a yes," you chuckled.

"I'm worried you're going to realise how much fun domming is and try to take over more often, but yes, let's try it," he smiled at you.

"Like, now?" you asked.

JayB chuckled, "Well, I sure hope you're planning on doing it now, because you can't go getting me all excited like that and expect me to go back to reading."

"I'm pleased you like the sound of it too," you told him, your voice low and sultry now. "You strip, I'll get the stuff."

You stripped yourself, before grabbing the toy and some lube. When you turned back to your boyfriend, he was naked, laying back on the bed, already hardening at the thought of what was about to happen. Securing the strap-on around your hips you climbed on to the bed, your hands hooking under JayB's knees causing him to bend his legs, his feet now planted flat against the mattress.

"Are you sure you're OK with this?" you asked once more, wanting to ensure he was comfortable and happy with what was about to happen.

He nodded. "I'm curious, I need to know how it feels. If it's not good I'll tell you. Same safe word as normal," he confirmed.

You smiled at him, placing the lube on the bed beside you. Once again, you grabbed his knees, pushing them up to his chest, positioning the both of you so that you had better access to him.

"Keep your legs up," you told him, and as you moved your hands away, his replaced them.

Grabbing the lube again, you flipped it open and squeezed it out straight on to JayB, your fingers catching it before it reached the sheets beneath him.

With your eyes trained carefully on his face to make sure you never pushed too far, you slowly push one of your now lubricated fingers into him. You watched his expression as he adjusted to the unfamiliar sensation, his breath catching in his throat as he swallowed deeply, eyes making contact with yours. Once he began breathing in a normal rhythm again, you took it as a good sign and began to move your finger in and out of him, twisting and bending it slightly to experiment with different angles.

When JayB started to move his hips into you, you spoke, "More?"

"Please," he breathed out.

You obliged by adding another finger, stilling for a moment while he adjusted to the stretch.

"Ok," he told you, once he felt comfortable.

Once again you started to move your fingers in and out of him, gradually pushing deeper. You continued your motions for a while, the last thing you wanted to do was end up hurting JayB or making him uncomfortable, when he suddenly let out a loud whimper. You'd never heard him make a sound like it, and you couldn't deny how much it aroused you.

"Did that feel good, baby?" you asked him, moving your fingers to stroke the same point inside him.

"Yes- oh God- so good," he moaned out beneath you, head thrown back into the pillow.

With his neck so exposed, you couldn't resist the urge to lean forward and kiss your way up his chest, neck, jaw, finally connecting your lips to his. As he relaxed into the moment, you slowly added a third finger to stretch him out enough to be comfortable with the strap-on.

"Babe," he mumbled against your lips.

You paused your movements in case he wanted you to slow down or stop completely.

"Touch me?"

You smiled as you pulled back to your previous position.

"Anything for you, my handsome prince."

You quickly added some lube to your other hand, before reaching for his length. He began to whine again as you stroked him slowly, in time with the movements of your fingers.

You could tell JayB was getting more and more comfortable with the situation; his eyes fluttered closed and you noticed his grip on his legs loosen.

"You ready for the toy now?"

"Hmm, please."

You let out a low laugh, amazed at how much he was enjoying himself already. He'd had a point; you were really enjoying being in charge for a change.

Pulling your hands away, you stroked the strap-on, before adding some extra lube. Running your hand up and down the length of it, you spread the lube along it, causing JayB to adjust himself on the bed as the sight turned him on even more.

"I'll go slow but tell me if you need me to stop for a bit, OK?" you told him.

He simply nodded vigorously, biting at his lower lip.

You lined up at his entrance, then leant forward over him, his legs now resting on your shoulders, freeing up his hands. You began edging your hips forward little by little. He let out small gasps every so often causing you to stop until he was comfortable, when you would start moving again. Once he had fully adjusted to the sensation you began to move your hips. As you fell into a steady rhythm, you leant down, pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. One of his hands came up to tangle in your hair while the other snaked between you to pleasure himself, picking up where you had left off.

Suddenly, a loud moan emitted from your boyfriend, causing you to smirk down at him.

"Did I find your sweet spot again?" you asked even though you clearly already knew the answer.

JayB was always an incredibly attractive man, but looking down at him now, naked, panting, face screwed up in pleasure, was the most arousing sight you'd ever had the joy of witnessing. The combination of the view and his sinful moans spurred you on, your hips rolling into him.

Once you'd worked out the perfect angle to thrust at, your boyfriend was a writhing, whimpering mess under you.

"I w-hmm, won't last... much longer," he panted, one fist balled up in the sheets beneath him while the other continued to stroke himself.

"That's OK," you told him softly, "Whenever your ready, just let go."

Despite the sinful thoughts in your head about how hot it would be to deny him his orgasm while he is this blissed out, it was the first time so you wanted to be considerate. If he enjoyed this and wanted to try it again, you had many plans on how to tease him and torture him.

With some more load moans, interrupted only by a few muttered curses, JayB came. You slowed your hips gradually to a stop in time with his hand.

As you pulled out, you gently lower his legs back to the bed.

"Just wait there, baby, I'll be right back," you told him as you stood, removed the toy and ran to the bathroom for something to clean him up with.

When you got back, you found him exactly where you him, one arm draped over his closed eyes, chest still rapidly rising and falling.

You started to clean off his abs, having also quickly wiped yourself down in the bathroom after how much mess he made.

"Thank you so much for indulging me," you said as you finished.

The hand that had been lying limply at his side now reached out for you. Obliging him you laid down beside him, reaching up to move his arm away from his face before stroking his cheek.

"Are you OK?" you asked him.

He hummed happily.

"I'm gonna need some actual words here, Jae," you laughed. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah," he breathed out. "That was intense."

"In a good way, I hope."

"In the best way," he told you, cupping your face and pulling you in to a tender kiss. "But now I think I need an aftercare massage and then a hot bath and cuddles with my best girl."

"As you long as you mean me, not Nora, you've got it."

"Yeah, I don't think Nora would appreciate a bath."

You laughed at his words before sitting up and letting him roll over so you could give him the requested massage.

NAVIGATION | GOT7 MASTERLIST

160 notes · View notes

just-a-dumb-gay · 4 years

Text

I Love Human Stupidity - Lady Dimitrescu X Reader - 1914 Words

Danger follows the reader wherever they go and Alcina gets the joy of witnessing them have the most disaster filled week.

Tags: Reader gender is not specified, I made Daniela a little bitchy but its funny, 5+1 Things

1 .

For once atop the mountain the weather is beautiful. You and Alcina head into the woods out back for a while. But after lunch you got restless and decided some tree climbing was a good idea.

Alcina sits on the blanket she brought out and watches with pride as you scale one of the tallest trees with ease. You have your camera around your neck, taking pictures of every strange bug or leaf on your way up.

You hear Alcina laugh down below when you let out a victory yell as you reach the top of the tree.

You take a few more pictures, the surrounding woods is a stunning sight from so high up. There's also a few crows nearby that you manage to get some good pictures of.

A dark cloud has started appearing on the horizon, and it looks like it's heading straight for Castle Dimitrescu. You start making your way down, not exactly in the mood to get caught in any heavy rainfall.

You make your way down the tree mostly with ease. Although your jeans get caught on a branch and wind up with a hole in the left leg, thankfully you are left uninjured.

When you make it nearer the bottom you hang yourself upside down from a branch, peaking your head through the leaves to say hi to Alcina.

"My dear Y/N, whatever are you doing?" She laughs.

You don't reply, you just go to pull yourself back up. But Alcinas' laughter distracts you, making you accidentally grab a weak branch. It snaps off in your hand, causing you to fall the last couple meters out the tree.

You land with a solid thud and Alcina is immediately by your side asking if you're okay. But you can't reply, you landed straight on your back and it knocked the air out of you.

A few painful moments later once you've got your breath back, you look to the branch still in your hand.

"Fuck" is all you say before laughing,

"Please do not scare me like that." Alcina says, relieved to see you're okay.

2 .

Later in the day you and Alcina are sitting on your shared bed. She is reading and you're attempting to fix the hole in your jeans and a spot where the stitching attacking the sleeve to your shirt came undone as you fell. You were taught from a young age how to sew, but you've never been good at making it look as if there was never a hole at all.

You've already stabbed yourself a few times and Alcina always reminds you to be careful after you mumble swears under your breath. But unfortunately your needle is a little blunt and getting it through your jeans is a much larger task than your shirt.

You push a little too hard and accidentally stab the needle into the side of your thumb, your much louder swear this time catching Alcinas attention.

She puts her book down and retrieves a plaster from the bathroom while you're trying to inspect how deep the needle went.

"That's twice in one day you've hurt yourself." She says as she gently takes your hand and covers the hole.

"Not really my day is it?" You laugh.

"Please at least try to be careful."

"Believe it or not, I do try."

Alcina just stares, waiting for an explanation. But the truth is you don't have one, danger just follows you.

3 .

It's a quiet afternoon in the castle. You're looking around the library, looking for some inspiration to paint. You notice what appears to be a few old sketches of the castle sticking out from books on a top shelf. But there's one problem. They're almost five feet above you.

You look around for a ladder but the only one there looks ancient and ready to break if a rat tried to climb it. So, what do you do instead of asking for help like a normal person? Climb the shelves.

As you begin climbing, Daniela appears next to you nearly scaring you half to death.

"What's all this?" She asks with near to no emotion.

"Trying to reach those sketches up there." You manage to take your hand off the shelf just long enough to point.

"Now this I want to see." She says making herself comfortable on a nearby arm chair.

You decide to just ignore her and continue your climb.

You make reasonably quick progress, making it nearly two feet away from your goal, but the higher you go the less of a grip you can get as the books cover more of the shelves.

Pausing for a moment you try and figure out if there's an easier way to do things, but the movement as you look around causes you to lose your grip. You desperately try to grab at anything before you fall but all you succeed in doing is dragging a few books down with you.

As you're laying on the floor you can hear Daniela laughing, almost fully cackling, nearby. And barely a few seconds later you can hear Alcina's footsteps down the hall.

"What's going on here?" Alcina asks, kneeling beside you to make sure you're okay.

"I love human stupidity." Daniela says through laughter.

"Out. Now." Alcina yells, loud enough you're sure any mice in the walls just ran away.

Daniela follows her mothers order and leaves, still laughing the whole time.

"Are you okay, my love?" Alcina asks once she thinks Daniela is out of earshot, but a loud fake gag comes from the hallway.

"Leave!" Alcina yells in her final warning tone. "What on earth were you trying to do?" She asks, her attention back to you.

"Those damn sketches on the top shelf are being stubborn." You sigh.

Alcina rolls her eyes fondly before helping you up. As you're dusting yourself off, Alcina hands you the sketches.

"Next time please ask for help." She says softly.

You pause for a moment and then simply reply with "Maybe."

4 .

And much to Alcina's frustration, you did not ask for help the next time something was on a high shelf.

You're attempting to make yourself a late night snack, really craving pancakes for some reason you can't figure out. Daniela and the others are out hunting and as far as you're aware Alcina is in your room halfway across the other side of the castle.

You've got everything prepared. Except for the flour and sugar. Which are both on the top shelf.

This time you're smart enough to use a chair to stand on. And all seems to start well, you get the sugar down with ease. But as you stretch on your toes to get the flour you lose your balance.

You fall to the ground, accidentally kicking the chair over as you fall. And you land with your stomach upwards covered in flour.

You sigh in defeat, creating a flour cloud above you, and as you're wondering how you're going to explain this to Alcina the kitchen door opens.

"Y/N, I was just coming to check on you when I heard the crash. Are you okay?"

"No." You say weakly.

Alcina is immediately beside you again, checking for injuries. When You sigh again and say "I don't think there's enough flour left for pancakes." as sadly as you can manage.

Alcina looks down at you and all she can say is "What am I going to do with you?" while smiling.

5 .

You've known since you arrived at the castle that there's multiple hidden passages in the walls. From the small amount of knowledge you have of the castle's structure you've figured out the passages would be only just big enough for an ordinary sized human which is why Alcina never uses them but Daniela can be found using them to sneak around to avoid trouble.

Alcina never wanted you to explore them, she doesn't know what kind of bugs or rats are hidden in them and considering how often danger follows you she doesn't want you to get hurt.

But eventually after a lot of asking, she handed you a torch and led you to the hidden entrance that leads to all the other passages. She leaves to read a book and allows you to explore at your own pace, and as she's walking away she warns you to be careful.

For the most part you do well guessing which room each passage ends in, and so far the hidden doors have been fairly easy to open except for a few which you've had to squeeze your way out of.

You reach the end of the final passage which you think has led you to the library, where Alcina currently is.

You start to push the door open and quickly realize it's going to be one of the stubborn ones. You manage to squeeze half your body out, but then the worst happens. You get stuck.

You take a moment to try and push the door, but even with your full weight it barely budged so now it's not even slightly moving.

Alcina hears you attempting to kick the door and comes to check on you, and immediately starts laughing when she sees the position you're in.

"This is not your week is it?" She teases.

"It really isn't." You say as you toss your torch onto a nearby chair and continue trying to wiggle yourself free.

Alcina watches you for a moment to see if you can free yourself without help, but after a moment you sigh in defeat and ask her for help.

She manages to pull the door open without hurting you too much and you instantly flop down into the chair your torch is on.

Alcina sits beside you, gently taking your hand in her own as she asks if you're alright.

"I think I might've got a few splinters in my legs and stomach from that damn door, but otherwise I'm alright."

Alcina leads you back to your room to help you remove the splinters, but not without giving you a safety lecture on the way.

Daniela tracked some mud in with her late during the night probaly from hunting, but has been nowhere to be found all day to clean up the mess she's made. Alcina had to go into town so you decided to clean up the mess to kill some time.

You started by the front door and have made your way upstairs to the balcony that overlooks the main entrance. But you don't hear Alcina come in over the sound of your headphones.

But what you dohear during the quiet second between songs is a loud thud from down below.

You look over the balcony and see Alcina sitting stunned on the floor, with a freshly mopped and still wet spot by her feet.

"Careful, it's slippery." You tease, Alcina gives you a playful glare and you hold your hands up in defense. "I'm just glad that wasn't me." You laugh, finally happy to be the one danger doesn't hit.

"Did you really do all this without falling once?" Alcina asks as you make your way down the stairs to greet her.

"Yes, I di-" your proud sentence gets cut short as you slip and fall down the last four stairs.

You're stunned for a second but soon the only thing that can be heard is you and Alcina laughing at each others clumsiness.

The End

Prompts from 4 anons:

1 - Lady Dimitrescu with a reader who does a lot crafty things like sewing or something with sharp objects but are also accident prone and pricks themselves or something.

2 - the reader somehow imjures themselves and Alcina scolds them for not being careful but it's bc shes really worried so she takes care of them and comforts them in the end

3 - I'm just imagining Lady Dimitrescu with a very clumsy reader / s/o would be like. Just umagine maybe it's a chill afternoon and it's quiet in the castle. Alcina might be reading something in that main area, down the stairs, and suddenly there is a crash from one of the rooms. She rushes over in concern, opens the door and sees us just lying on the floor. She jst hears a small "I'm okay!" and she goes over to us to gently help us up. maybe going "What on earth were you trying to do, my love?"

"Trying to reach the top shelf for >Insert supply here<"

+1 - Imagine Alcina slipping and falling, like, the noise that's bound to make, and you'd know it was her cause you'd just hear a loud ass thud LMAO

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #theres probably a few typos my bad!

313 notes · View notes

alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years

Text

Adoption Day

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 2089

For: Covers the Animal Shelter square for @adarafaelbarba 's fall moodboard bingo

TW: very brief mention of past childhood abuse and animal abandonment, but other than that, it's mostly fluff

Dedication: This is for the world's best cat mom, @madamsnape921 ,because it's her birthday! Go send her some birthday love today!

Author's Note: Jumping back a little in the Cat Daddy Frederick timeline to cover Buttercup's adoption story. Per my previously established continuity, this would take place in January, right after New Year's, and prior to "Not According to Plan"

Tags: @itsjustmyfantasyroom @prurientpuddlejumper @thatesqcrush @welcometothemxdhouse @raulesparza4eva @teamsladsandgents @rosequcrtz

The winter wind howled outside the window and snow drifted across the windowpanes, but inside Frederick Chilton’s ornate home you were safe and warm. No, our home, I live here now, you thought to yourself. You were still getting used to thinking of it as your home, too. You were unpacking the last of the boxes from your recent move. A fire was roaring in the living room fireplace, giving the room a cozy, comforting glow. You inhaled the aroma of the hearty vegetable stew that was cooking in the crockpot in the kitchen, and your stomach growled. You were going to need to take a dinner break soon, and as if he was reading your mind, Frederick entered the room and came over to where you were placing your books on the expansive built-in shelves.

“How goes it with the books? Do you need more shelf space? I can always move somethings into my office if you need more.”

“Thank you, Frederick, but don’t worry; I think I have more than enough. I am, however, getting rather hungry. I think it’s time we ate dinner, don’t you?

“I couldn’t agree more, my love, shall I set the table?” he asked, taking your hand, and helping you to your feet.

“Thank you, Frederick, that would be lovely.”

*****************

“This stew is fantastic, my love! We’ll most certainly have to use this recipe again.”

When you didn’t respond right away, Frederick started to worry and reached for your hand. “Darling?”

“Oh! Sorry! I zoned out for a moment, must be more tired than I thought; Thank you, Frederick, I have a whole slew of crock pot recipes that are perfect for cold winter days.”

“Y/N, are you alright? Have I done something wrong? Is it the house? Is there something you’re not happy with?”

“What? Oh, Frederick, no!” You squeezed his reassuringly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, my love, and the house is perfectly fine. It’s just…” you paused, not sure how to broach your thoughts.

“What is it? Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it! Cost is no object!”

You took a breath and tried to collect your thoughts. You loved cats, but your previous apartment had not allowed pets. You had promised yourself that when you eventually moved you would be a cat mom again. It had been far too long. But it was something that you and Frederick hadn’t discussed yet, and you had no idea what his feelings were on the subject.

“What did you think about getting a cat?” You blurted out, bracing yourself for what you were sure was going to be an argument.

It was now Frederick’s turn to go silent, taken aback by your unexpected query. He mulled it over in his head before answering.

“Honestly, my love, I’ve never thought about it before. I never had a pet of any kind growing up. My parents did not allow animals in the house.”

“Oh, Frederick, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” In theory, you knew you probably should have guessed that. You knew that Frederick’s father had been a hard, cruel man, and had been abusive toward Frederick and his mother. Frederick’s mother had been so worn down by it that she eventually shutdown, mentally and emotionally, and neglected to protect her son when he needed it the most. Of course, they hadn’t allowed pets, they hadn’t even allowed their son to have a normal childhood, or an ounce of happiness.

“My darling, you have nothing to apologize for,” said Frederick, placing soft kisses on the back of your hand. “If it’s a cat you want, then a cat you shall have. I’ll do some research after we finish here. Cats need supplies, right? Food, litter, toys, those fancy cat trees, cute little sweaters?”

****************

After dinner you and Frederick sat side-by-side on the couch with your laptops, him researching what kind of supplies you going to need to buy, and you were looking at your local SPCA’s website.

“Good god, I had no idea how many different types of cat litter there were!”

“Oh, Frederick, if you think that’s bad, wait until you see how competitive the cat food market is. Hmm…that’s interesting…”

“What is it?” asked Frederick, looking over at your laptop.

“This listing here,” you said, pointing at a blank gray box. “There should be a picture here, like there is for the other listings, but it’s blank. It says it’s supposed to be a 2-month-old black female…. hang on; I have an idea.”

You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You hit “Call” and waited.

“Hello?” A voice finally picked up on the other end.

“Joanne! Hi! It’s Y/N. How are you?”

“I’m great, how are you? It’s been ages since the last time we hung out.”

“I’m good, and you’re right; it has been too long. Is this a good time to talk?”

“Sure! What’s up?”

“Do you still work for the county SPCA?”

“Oh, you bet I do! Oh my god, are you finally in the market to adopt?”

“Yes, I am, and I have a question about one of the cat listings on the website. The one that’s missing a picture?”

“Yes, I just noticed that a few hours ago. Our website person put that up prematurely. The kitten was just spayed, and normally we wait until the animal has had adequate recovery time before we add them to the site, but accidents happen. Last I checked, the little one is recovering nicely and should be ready to interact a couple days. She’s the sweetest thing. Someone dumped her in a cardboard box at our front door. She had a leg injury, but that’s also healing up. She loves to play, loves to cuddle, and I’ll think she’ll thrive in a good home. Would you like to make an appointment to see her?”

“Yes, I would! What time slots do you have available?”

*******************

A few days later, you and Frederick walked arm in arm into the county SPCA. Frederick had rush-ordered all the supplies you thought you’d need and then some. You both excited and nervous. You’d already taken a huge step by moving in together, and now you were adopting a pet. You looked over at Frederick and noticed the uncertainty in his eyes. He also seemed leaning on his cane for support. He always seemed to do that when he was unsure about something. You gave his arm a gentle squeeze and kissed his cheek.

“It’s going to be okay, Frederick, you’re to be a wonderful cat dad. I believe in you.”

Frederick blushed and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank you, my love, I appreciate your faith in me, even though I’m still not sure what’s done to deserve it, or you.”

Before you could respond to that, Joanne came out her office and rushed toward you.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you, too, Joanne.” You enveloped her in a big hug and then motioned to Frederick. “Joanne, this is Dr. Frederick Chilton, my Frederick.”

Frederick gave you the most loving of looks, and nearly melted into a puddle at your feet at sound of you referring to him as “your Frederick.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Chilton,” said Joanne, extending her hand.

“And you,” he replied, shaking hands.

“Well, I suppose you want to meet the little one; right this way!”

You and Frederick followed Joanne to cat section of the shelter. You walked past several cats, each one trying to get your attention from their enclosures. If you had your way, you’d take them all home, but you didn’t think Frederick was quite ready for that yet; but maybe one day…

“Here she is, “announced Joanne, stopping in front of one of the enclosures. A tiny black, fluffy kitten was inside, and her eyes lit up when she saw you. She was immediately on her feet, and you noticed she still had a slight limp in her injured leg, but she was full of energy and mewing incessantly. Joanne opened the door and carefully lifted her out. You reached out to take her, but the impatient kitten leapt out of Joanne’s hands and into your waiting arms.

“Oh! Hello! Hi baby, hi sweetheart,” you cooed.

“Mew, mew, mew!”

You looked into her eyes, and it was love at first sight. You did your best to hold onto her, shifting and adjusting your arms to accommodate her constant movement and attempts to climb up your shoulder. You gave her a little scratch between her ears and kissed her head. She was perfect.

“Mew! Mew!”

“Yes, baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Frederick stood there watching you with the kitten, completely dumbstruck. Just when he thought he couldn’t fall anymore in love with you, you had to go and surprise him. You were a natural cat mom, cradling the tiny ball of fluff and talking to her like she was a human. He saw the kitten rub her nose against your chin and looked like she was giving you kisses. He also saw the look of pure love and joy on your face, and he lived for that, wanted to see that every day. He didn’t know anything about raising a cat, but for you, he would try.

**************

Joanne led you to a visitor’s room so that you and Frederick could spend some quality time getting to know the kitten. Frederick removed his coat and offered to take the kitten so that you could take off yours. You demonstrated how to hold the kitten and then handed her to Frederick. He held her close to chest and sat down.

“Mew?” the kitten looked up at him, confused as to who this new person was.

“It’s alright, little one, I’ve got you,” he tried to reassure her. A lock of his normally perfectly quaffed hair suddenly flopped in his face, and the kitten’s eyes grew wide.

“Mew?” she raised a paw and tentatively batted at Frederick’s hair. “Mew…”

“Oh, that’s adorable,” you said, plopping down next to them on a bean bag chair. You saw the smile on his face and nudged him with your elbow. “See? She likes you. And I think she wants to play.” You looked around the room and saw the toy boxes, filled with various dog and cat toys, but then something else caught your eye. “Frederick?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Hand her back to me and take off your scarf, please.”

He did as he was told. You carefully placed the kitten on the carpet and proceeded to dangle the scarf in front if her. Her eyes went wide again, and then she crouched, wiggled her backside, and pounced. Her little paws batted at the scarf, then she would roll around kick at it with her hind legs.

“It certainly looks like she’s enjoying herself,” Frederick chuckled. “So, what are we going to call her?”

“I was thinking ‘Buttercup”,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I am not the least bit surprised,” he replied, immediately picking up on your reference. He looked at the kitten. “Well, what do you think about that little one?”

“Mew?”

“Your name,” you told her, “Buttercup, do you like it?”

“Mew, mew.” She forgot about the scarf and crawled into your lap, kneading you with her paws.

“I think she likes it.” You threw Frederick a smile.

“Yes, I quite think she does. I have an idea, how about a story? Would you like that Buttercup?”

“Mew.” She replied with a yawn,

“Darling, if you check your bag, I believe you’ll find a book there.”

You checked your purse, and sure enough, in the largest section was a children’s book, one that you instantly recognized from your own childhood.

“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie?”

“It came highly recommended by the lady at the bookstore.”

“It’s perfect, Frederick.” You handed him the book and leaned your head against his knee. As he began to read, Buttercup curled up in your lap and shut her eyes, she was soon fast asleep, purring away. When he finished reading, Frederick caressed your cheek with hand to get your attention.

“So, shall we go find Joanne and make it official?”

“Yes,” you replied, gazing down at Buttercup, “If we don’t take her home today, I think I’ll cry.”

“Then let’s go fill out the paperwork and bring her home.”

#frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton x female reader #frederick chilton #cat daddy frederick #frederick chilton imagines #hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #adarafaelbarbaseptmeberbingo #my writing

59 notes · View notes

wardenannie · 3 years

Note

heyy! saw you were taking prompts so i thought i'd send you onee.

could you write a spicy levihan oneshot based on levi and hanji reuniting after a long time being apart? it can be canonverse or a modern au, whatever youd'd like!

love love love your writinggg <333

Love this prompt. I'm writing this as a modern AU where Levi and Hange met in the military and fell in love. Later on Levi is injured and is honorably discharged but Hange remains active duty. 💚

Boomers having seggs under the cut ;)

Eight months. He hasn't seen his wife in eight, long months.

He drives to the airport in a car modified to accommodate his disability. His right leg has never worked the same since the bullet. He rolls through the terminal in his wheelchair. People look down on him, the little man in the little chair, but he doesn't care.

Levi is going to see Hange. His Hange. They fell in love on the field of war, and as far as he knows there is no stronger bond. He misses her touch, her kiss, the low ramble of her voice.

He misses his Hange.

The circumstances of her return are less than ideal. An IED has left her missing an eye and badly burned. They had to airlift her to Germany where she recovered without him. She hadn't wanted him there. Hadn't wanted him to see her so broken.

It still broke his heart.

Now he waits by the baggage claim, watching the arrivals. Frankfurt 8:20 am, on schedule.

Levi checks his watch; its 7. He has some time to kill. But all he can do is wait, staring at the arrivals. His good leg jiggles with anxiety. His good eye never wavers from that screen.

The hour passes like molasses, the final twenty minutes like cement, but finally a familiar head of russet hair rounds the corner. She's on crutches still, and she wears a patch over one eye. Most of her is covered by her military greens, but he can see the burn scars on her left hand and cheek.

She has never looked more beautiful to him.

He wheels over to her as fast as he can, breathless, grinning.

Hange meets him, leaning over to pull him into a tight hug. Her warmth is rejuvenating, he has not felt so whole in a long time.

The first thing she says to him, breathless in his ear, is a joke; "Between the two of us we've got one working set of eyes, smalls."

"I'll watch your left if you watch my right," Levi replies, then he pulls back from the hug to kiss her deeply, not caring who sees.

A few people, seeing Hange's uniform and Levi's chair, begin to clap for them.

Levi just wants them to shut the fuck up.

They make it back to their apartment in record time, both of them grinning like idiots as they pass over the threshold.

Hange drops her single duffel bag in the entry way and inhales deeply. Then she sighs, eyes becoming sad, "Assimilation back into civilian life is going to be hard, isn't it? Especially now that I look like the crypt keeper."

"I'll be here to help you," Levi stands up, folding his chair. He limps over to her, leans on her, kisses scarred jaw. "You're beautiful."

Hange shakes her head and helps him into the living room. They sit on the couch, hands clutching at one another, loath to lose such a precious thing as touch after so many months.

"You can't see the worst of it, it's under the uniform," she explains. "I honestly think it'll make you sick."

"Hange," Levi leans forward to kiss her, bit she avoided him.

"I lost my left nipple, you know? Burned clean off. My tits are lopsided now," she cups them, dropping his hand. He can't tell anything through the uniform. "God Levi I feel like such a monster."

"No," Levi snaps, drawing her into his arms. "I almost lost you, four-eyes. They told me you had a fifty-fifty shot. I thought I was going going lose you. Now that I finally have you back I won't listen to this shit. You're my wife. I love you so much it fucking hurts, burns or no."

Hange sniffs, peeking out between her fingers.

Levi leans forward to kiss her forhead, "I missed you so much. Everyday I wasn't with you killed me a little bit, Hange. Knowing I wasn't there to protect you."

Hange inclines her head to kiss his lips. Chastely at first, but Levi deepens it, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her closer to him by her waist.

His tongue traces along her lower lip and she grants him entrance. She tastes like the mints she always sucks on when she flies. Hange moans softly into his mouth, one hand cupping his scarred cheek.

They part by a few inches, and Levi asks softly, "Are you ready for sex? Does it still hurt?"

"Sometimes I can still feel the fire in my skin," Hange shivers, then she kisses his jaw. "I want you to take it away."

"Hange..."

She takes his hands. Both of them are shaking slightly, "Make love to me, Levi. I want to feel whole again."

In the past he would have lifted her and carried her to their bedroom. But now his leg will not allow for that, so he hoists her up with an arm around her waist, lips working at very neck and jaw as he guides her to their marriage bed.

It's the same as when she left. Black duvet, white sheets, all neatly laid out and folded by her husband.

He lays her down on the duvet and crawls over top of her, beginning to work at the buttons of her uniform. Her hands caress down his chest to the hem of his shirt, which she tugs at lightly.

Levi finishes the last button, then sits up to remove his crew neck before gently pushing Hange's top off of her shoulders.

"You've been staying in shape," she marvels softly, caressing her hands over the scarred marble of his skin.

He shrugs, eyeing her breast bindings hungrily, "Physical therapy got me on an exercise kick."

"I've gone a little soft," Hange sighs, "So many weeks in hospital, you know?"

Levi begins to undo her breast bindings, deft fingers pulling them away strip by strip. When she is bared to him he marvels at the mottled pattern of her skin; olive and red, silver and purple. Like she said, she is missing a nipple, but he hardly notices for the joy of being with his wife again.

"You're beautiful," he breaths softly, and he leans over to lavish her branded skin with sensual kisses.

Hange moans softly, fingers curling into his hair as his tongue traces along sensitive scar tissue.

"Levi," she moans. Eyes fluttering shut.

He begins to descend, following the line of scarring that divides her body in two. His tongue traces along her navel, and when he reaches her waistband, he looks up to her with hooded grey eyes, begging permission.

Biting her lip, Hange nods frantically, "I want your mouth on me, it's been so long."

Levi hums in agreement, peeling her trousers and simple cotton panties down her thighs in a single movement. It has been far too long.

Her cunt glistens wetly in the low light of the bedroom. Here she is the same, here the fire has not touched her, so when Levi lowers his tongue to lick a hot stripe up her folds, he knows just how to make her twitch.

His lips seal over her clit, feeling it harden and swell under his assault. His fingers find her entrance and press inside, curling backwards in a familiar pattern, pads brushing up against her g-spot.

"Oh shit, Levi," she throws a burned arm over her eyes, cunt already beginning to twitch and tighten around his fingers.

"Come," he commands softly, low voice vibrating against her clit. "Come for me, Hange."

She does, thighs shivering as she falls apart on his fingers. She makes a high, keening sound that makes Levi smile as he pulls his wet mouth away from her pussy. He presses a kiss over her mound then stands, undoing his belt and shucking his pants.

His cock bounces free, heavy, swollen and beaded with precum at the tip. Now they are both naked save for the wedding bands they wear on chains around their necks.

Hange smiles at him, scooting up the bed and beckoning with a pink, scarred finger. All of her bashfulness over her wounds has melted away, "It's been awhile, Captain. I needed the warm up."

He crawls over top over her, kissing her breasts before kissing her lips tenderly. Missionary is his favorite position, so he can look into her eyes while they make love.

He reaches between their bodies, lining up the head of his cock with her entrance.

"Ready?" He whispers against her parted lips, holding her stare. Their is fire in both of their eyes, a love like none other. Slate holds to wine as she nods and he slides into her, smooth and easy.

Entering Hange is like coming home. Levi shuts his eyes and let's the sensation surround him, swallowing him up. He tucks his face into the crook of her shoulder, moaning softly as he begins to thrust, slow and steady.

"Levi," she whispers his name. "Levi, Levi, Levi."

Her fingers caress down the switching muscles of his sides and she clutches at the globes of his ass, urging him to go harder, faster.

The feel of her cunt is sublime, tight and wet and hot around his dick. She kisses his temple as he makes love to her, then her hands rake up from his ass to cup the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Levi snaps his hips as hers roll to meet his. His fingers trace delicately over her scars as his tongue curves along the back of her teeth.

When they part, panting and flushed, he exhales against her lips, "I missed you so much."

Hange nods, fingers curling into her shoulders as her cunt begins to tighten around him. There are tears in her eyes, tears of deep seated emotion still unspoken. Tears of a wounded soldier. Tears of lovers reunited at last.

Levi's hips begin to stutter, cock swelling, balls tightening to his body.

"Come in me," Hange implores, holding his gaze. Her eyes plead, "inside, please."

Then her body goes tense under him, and she makes soft panting sounds as her orgasm takes her in waves.

Levi's lips part, eyes hooding as his thighs and groin go alight and he finishes inside of his lover.

He gives a few, final thrusts, working himself deep before he collapses on top of her. They both pant, sharing gentle kisses in the sweetness of the afterglow.

Levi holds Hange to his chest, fingers tracing along her scars.

"You're so beautiful, Hange," he breaths, emotions rising in his chest. "You have no idea."

Hange kisses the corner of his mouth, eyes hooded and lazy. Mixed fluids drip between her thighs, "So are you, Levi."

Her fingers catch on his chain, following it down to his ring. It mirrors her own, a simple golden band.

"I love you," she says. "And I'm never leaving you like that ever again."

Levi nods, "Likewise, and I love you, too."

Reunited at last, they sleep.

#levihan #my writing

63 notes · View notes

pedros-mustache · 4 years

Text

clandestine

summary: some things are best kept in secret.

word count: 3k+

warnings: smut (18+ only!): unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight dirty talk, hand over mouth at least once. also: age gap (reader is legal but no specific ages are stated), language, x fem!reader.

a/n: uh—this is relatively unedited and i’m unsure about the ending, but what are you gonna do? it’s also my first smut piece and i am very anxious about it. please be kind.

as is wont with most affairs of the heart, your interest in the surly mercenary begins as a slow simmer.

he strikes you as unique the first time you lay eyes on his wide shoulders and bronzed skin. he stands in the manor courtyard, muted clothing and worn chainmail so different from his fanciful counterparts. though they have been hired to secure and protect the castle in anticipation of the king’s arrival during the spring festivals, he alone does not spruce his protective gear or tie a brightly colored ribbon around his upper-arm to signal his country of origin. he is simply there: a gray, brooding cloud amidst vibrant, high-flying kites.

you think that’s what interests you the most in the beginning.

there’s something unattainable about him from the very start. he is decidedly removed from it all: the joy of winter leaving at long last, the frenzied preparation for the week of festivals in two months’ time, the slowly encroaching haze of desire that pervades the manor and its inhabitants. while other mercenaries flirt endlessly and take the opportunity to relax before the truly wealthy and powerful arrive, he stands at his guard with a placid face. he does not so much as move a muscle when you do toss a curious glance over your shoulder as you pass him by. he simply… looks on.

he eats with abandon, as though worried one of his fellow sellswords will steal from beneath his nose. from your place at the high table in the great hall, you study his movements and the shift of his eyes. he does not appear nervous. no, he is too confident for that. he’s possessive of his time, his food, his belongings.

your sister discovers his name is tovar—pero tovar, a spanaird recently returned from the far east. she tells you the other men find him too grumpy and too arrogant for their own liking, and before you can question her further, she confesses her curiosity about another mercenary who makes her heart tremble with delight. several years older, it is the first time your sister confesses anything to you of great worth, and you spend the night buried beneath her covers, giggling and dreaming and hoping for her future.

still, when she finally falls asleep, you stare at the ceiling and wonder what sours tovar’s mood. like your sister is affected by her suitor, you are affected by tovar, though he is far from your suitor. he is just a phantom in the back of your mind, ever-present and mysterious. he’s nothing more than that.

yet the first time you hear him speak you feel your chest tighten.

he, as well as the other sellswords, have walked the manor halls for a fortnight, and he has plagued your thoughts for just as long. in all that time and in all your carefully arranged moments of passing, you have not heard him utter a word. he is silent as the grave, as gray and seemingly lifeless as one too.

but then, when you cross the courtyard one afternoon and richard, the pox-ridden son of your father’s dearest advisor, says something lewd in your direction, tovar comes to life.

he steps away from his post by the manor steps. it’s a single step, but it stops you dead in your tracks. he clutches the pommel of his sword and lays an unyielding stare on richard. “watch your tongue, chico,” he drawls.

and that is it. he says nothing more, merely waits for richard to scurry away, tail between his legs, before returning to his post.

for your part, you gape at him. you do not know what to say, how to respond, other than blink in stunned silence. his voice is deep, a rumble in his chest, accented with something unfamiliar but nonetheless sweet to the ears. you want to hear him speak again and again and again until you drip like spilled honey.

he looks at you, then, and your face feels as hot with hellfire. your thoughts are no different—especially when he looks you over, a long glance from the crest of your head to the satin of your slippers. the leather of his glove creaks as he tightens his hold on the sword pommel.

“go on, hermosa,” he says, his tone clipped with something akin to frustration.

you obey and lose yourself to the tasks of the day.

still, he remains in the back of your mind like a specter, and you resolve to keep him that way as the days pass. the festival draws closer, anticipation of the king’s arrival sending the manor into anxious exuberance. you nearly forget him, about the way his voice and his glance quickened your heart, as your mother gives you task after task and your sister spends her evenings waxing romantic about her paramour.

but then as you slip out of your sister’s room late one night, you see him in the hall, and you remember it all, and your gut twists.

it is dark. the moon hangs high in the sky, spilling its light on the stone floor of the outer hall. it casts a glow around tovar, something that makes him appear more angelic than you think he is. perhaps that’s what drives you forward. how can someone shrouded in such light be anything but a godsend?

you speak his name when you reach his side, but you imagine he already knows you’re there. still, his name feels right falling from between your lips, and you say it again when he does not immediately respond.

“tovar?”

he swivels his head to face you. moonlight catches on his faded armor and smooths the rough scar above his eye.

he kisses you before you can react, his mouth harsh against yours. it is a shock, but not an unwelcome one. you have dreamed of this—of more than this—since you first saw him, and to feel him against you now is ecstasy itself. until, of course, he brings you to new heights of pleasure in that very hall, beneath the moon, shrouded in darkness.

he is firm, but he is not rough, and he truly does not say much. you don’t need him to, you suppose. it’s enough to feel his hands roam your clothed body, his thick length slip in and out of your dripping core. his breathy moans shuddered against your neck sound like prayers, and you squeeze yourself around him when he mutters something in his native tongue as you find your release. he is not far behind, and he removes himself quick enough to spill his seed on the dirty floor.

then he tucks himself back in his trousers and pulls you from the ledge on which he’d taken you. you glance over your shoulder into the courtyard below and wonder if anyone had heard or seen two bodies tumbling together in the cover of night. your legs wobble beneath you, and he grips your hip to hold you steady. his eyes roam your face before he lifts a hand to cradle your cheek. it is such an intimate gesture after a chaotic embrace that you feel your gut twist again.

“go to bed, hermosa,” he whispers. “i will find you on the morrow.”

he kisses you—softly, sweetly, like a husband might his wife—and it ignites desire in you all over again.

dizzy with emotion, you obey him once more and go to bed.

***

it continues—quick fucks in the dark of night or in empty rooms or hay-filled stables—as the days progress and the festivals draw closer.

at first, you do not speak. words seem superfluous when your bodies can do the communicating. he alternates between gentle and soft some days to stern and commanding some nights. he shows you things, does things to you, that the stable boys you’ve run with before could never emulate even in their wildest dreams. he is all-consuming, an itch you find you must scratch whenever you get the chance.

no one can know, of course, that you have all but pledged your heart to the sullen mercenary. your father would never approve. it took all your sister’s will-power to convince him of her own genial and steady paramour. tovar is steady, yes, but hardly the amiable sort, and his is older by a fair many years. if you were to hazard a guess, he might be closer in age to your father than you. that would not sit well with your father; you know that without bringing the idea of your match with tovar forward.

besides, you aren’t sure if tovar wants you for more than you are now. though with each passing day your heart winds itself tighter around him like a vine, he has sworn no fidelity to you. in fact, there are times you are surprised he even remembers your name.

but it doesn’t matter. not when he feels so good and tastes so good and—

you will be content with what he gives you until his time in the manor is complete and he must move on.

to your great delight, as the king’s arrival draws nearer, you find your stolen moments with tovar grow deeper than simple carnal pleasure. he talks more, telling you stories of his long years wandering the wide world. he recounts the story of his many scars as he connects the dots littering your naked flesh. he brings you a trinket he saw in the marketplace that made him think of you and wonder what the pearls would look like nestled in your hair.

you think, on some level, he must care for you. at least, he’s grown to care for you. while he may not wear his affection for you like a badge on his chest, you can tell that there is something that keeps him coming back to your side. it’s in the way his head turns to watch as you walk by and the way his eyes find yours over the crowded great hall at meal time and the way he murmurs sweet nothings in your ear as he takes you by the firelight.

who would have thought—a highborn girl, barely a woman, and a grumpy goose of a spaniard?

on the first day of the spring festival, you don a virginal white gown, soft against your freshly washed skin, and decorate your head with a crown of wildflowers before departing to the festival grounds. it is customary to forego shoes in honor of the earth’s rebirth, and you find the soil beneath your feet chilly compared to the rest of your warm body. you laugh and dance along with your sister and other manor guests, twirling brightly colored ribbons over your head.

you catch sight of tovar several times throughout the day. he guards one of the king’s inner-circle and does not appear all too pleased by the post. of course, what does please tovar is illusive even to you.

he dips his head in acknowledgement when you grin at him from across the meadow. a friend whispers something devilish in your ear about his scar, and you dissolve into giggles, your stare still trained on his unmoving face. perhaps the mulled wine you’ve consumed throughout the day has made you giddy, but, really, the bright spring sun and warm air and smiles all around thaws the winter lingering in your bones. hearing your friend wonder about the size of tovar’s… other amenities as compared to his scar just somehow makes the day better.

he catches you—literally—by surprise late in the afternoon.

everyone is distracted by the king versing your father in a game of lawn bowls deep in the meadow. you hover by the refreshment table adjacent to tover’s post, deep in conversation with your cousin over the merits of satin hair ribbons. when your cousin rises to tour the stables, you rise too—

—and find yourself hauled by the wrist into a hidden alcove, tucked away from prying eyes and listening ears.

tovar’s lips are on yours, his tongue licking into your mouth the moment you grant him access. with a muffled grunt, he lifts you by the backs of the thighs and pushes you further into the alcove. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as you wind your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. the cool stone wall supporting your back feels firm while your limbs turn to gelatin under tovar’s attention.

“pero,” you breathe, dragging your lips from his to suck in a deep breath. “pero?”

“uh?” he draws back slightly, and if your eyes are as hooded with desire as his are, you are both doomed. “what is it?”

“someone will hear.”

“not if you keep your pretty mouth shut.” he latches onto your mouth again, and you sigh into the kiss, losing yourself to the feeling.

not a moment later, you feel him ruck your skirts up and around your hips. a rush of air tingles against your exposed thighs, and the dull throbbing between your legs ratchets to a painful ache. you wiggle your hips against his, searching for some form of relief. that blessed relief comes when tovar presses his thumb against your clothed clit. you whimper, the pressure both a blessing and a curse. though there is relief, you need more before you will burst at the seams.

“do you know how beautiful you are, cariño?” tovar’s words are hot on your throat, and you tilt your head back to allow him better access to your skin. “i don’t think you do.”

he moves his thumb in a slow circle, and you see stars.

“i watch you day in and day out, and you are so—” he grunts when your hips jerk forward. “dios mio, i would be happy to watch you forever in whatever you do. you are kind and gentle and i want to watch you—” he shakes his head, cutting himself off. “fuck.”

“pero, please.”

his eyes flick up. “what is it you want? tell me.”

you moan, and the sound echoes in the alcove. “please,” your murmur. “please.”

you’re sweating, sticky with desire between your legs and perspiration on your brow. words evade you as tovar continues his slow assault on your core, one long finger dipping down to run through your folds. you cry out at the touch, and he rushes to remove his hand and clamp it over your mouth.

“hush,” he says—and you think you hear a laugh on the edge of his voice. “do you want the king to find us?”

you scrabble for purchase on his shoulders, moving your hips against the bulge in his trousers. “if it will get your cock inside me, yes.”

“fuck.” tovar’s hands cannot move fast enough, so you aid him until he is freed from his trousers. he slides into you in one easy thrust, and you throw your head back with a wanton moan.

“oh mother mary,” you groan.

tovar chuckles at this. “i do not know if that is the type of call mariá is accustomed to answering, hermosa.”

he fucks you hard, then, his hips pistoning into yours. the wall behind you grates against your spine, but it doesn’t matter. tovar practically splits you open, and you can feel it all—every ridge and shudder and breath against the side of your face. you bite down on his shoulder, leather and all, to keep from screaming his name. tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you find your undoing when he returns his thumb to your clit.

“wh-where?” he mutters. “i cannot hold on—”

you silence him with a messy kiss, slanting your lips over his. “i’m yours, tovar,” you say, the words tumbling from your mouth before you can stop them. “mark me.”

without hesitation, he paints the inside of you with his seed, his body tight against you as he comes.

after a moment, he releases his hold on your hips, and you slide to your feet. your joints feel stiff from clenching every part of him so tightly, and the evidence of your tryst trickles down the side of your leg as you straighten your skewed clothing.

“hermosa?” his gentle voice pauses your efforts to appear less rumpled. you look up and find him staring openly, softly, at you. again, he lifts a hand to touch your cheek. “you cannot be mine. you—you deserve someone much more than me.”

“that is silliness, pero,” you say.

“but—”

shaking your head, you grab his hand. “i will hear no more on the matter. it is you i adore, and so long as you will have me, i will be by your side.”

he shakes his head, looks away.

heart lurching, you mirror his action and take ahold of his cheek. you rub your thumb over the hair peppering his jaw. “sweet pero, perhaps it is i who does not deserve you?”

he swallows hard then presses his forehead to yours. “you are… remarkable.”

“and you are one damn good fuck.”

at this, pero laughs. it is the first genuine laugh you have heard him utter, and it sends your heart bursting into one thousand butterflies. you grin, watching the delight break his face into a wide grin. when he has regained his composure, he nods to the festivities outside.

“we should return before they miss you.”

“pero?”

he turns at the exit of the alcove, his hand still clinging to yours. “hm?”

“one day—” you steady yourself, straighten your shoulders, and face him head on. “one day i want to tell my father about us. i want him to know. i want them all to know.”

pero blinks then adjusts to your words by stepping forward and sweeping his arms around the small of your back. he buries his face in the crook of your neck. “one day, chiquita. one day you will have that and all that you wish.”

“i wish only for you.”

“then you don’t wish for much.”

drawing back, you kiss him softly—as a wife might her husband. “for me, it is enough.”

a round of excited cheers and applause from the meadow breaks the moment, and pero releases his hold on you. he nods to the party. “come, hermosa,” he says. “for now, i will be your secret and you will be mine. but one day… one day…”

he shakes his head, and his words trail off, his eyes wistful.

you understand him clearly, though.

it might not be tomorrow or the next day or even next year. but you are content to wait. if he cares for you as he seems to, if he is willing to wait for the world to soften and ease, one day your clandestine meetings will be clandestine no longer. until then, alcoves and unfurnished bedrooms will have to do.

but who are you to complain?

***

taglist: @insideafictionaluniverse

#pero tovar #tovar the great wall #tovar x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #tovar smut #pedro pascal smut #pm writes

534 notes · View notes

ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years

Text

To Weep For The Sun

Summary: Argella Baratheon never wanted to become a lady-in-waiting to her cousin's, Rhaegar, betrothed. But then Elia Martell smiled at her and the world tilted.

Pairing: Elia Martell/Baratheon!Female Original Character, Oberyn Martell/Baratheon!Original Female Character

WARNINGS: sneaking around with the love of your life behind your husband’s back, Elia and her babies have the canon ending, sorry, maximum angst

Word Count: 9.6k (is anyone surprised?)

(Banner by bb @thesadvampire who would always let me scream and cry about Elia)

A/N: This story bounces between the 'past' (pre-Robert's Rebellion) and the 'present' (post Rebellion.) Please let me know if you have any questions.

Or read on Ao3 here!

Robert’s face was red and wet—redder still from where her hand had connected with his cheek. The clattering of armor, of Kingsguard dogs rushing to their new king’s aid from the woman who had just smacked him, barely registered in her ears.

“You are a monster.”

Argella remembered meeting the princess before the royal wedding. She was a Baratheon—a far off cousin of the Targaryen family tree and the only girl born to Steffon and Cassana Baratheon and Queen Rhaella had requested she become a lady-in-waiting to the new princess of the Seven Kingdoms. It was supposed to be an honor, many others had been vying for the position she was unceremoniously saddled with, but she only saw it as an inconvenience. King’s Landing smelled. It had none of the charms of Storm’s End and she hated how warm every day was—where were the storms to lull her to sleep? Or the sea breeze to cool her heated skin?

And she was completely prepared to bribe her new slew of handmaidens to make sure her chalice was always filled with sweet wine but then…

“Hello,” a soft voice said.

And the world tilted.

Elia was a quiet sort of woman, who had a soft laugh and a wicked wit she only voiced in chosen few. And her poor heart was already firmly planted in Elia’s delicate hands when the princess called her into her chambers, late at night, only a few moons after her engagement to Prince Rhaegar had been announced.

King’s Landing, it seemed, had been very lonely for both of them.

“But it is good to have friends. True friends.”

Argella’s breath stuttered in her lungs when Elia reached out to touch her hand, pressing her gentle fingers around hers and squeezed. “Yes. Friends.” The word was strangled in her throat. “I would be blessed to call you friend, Princess.”

Elia chuckled and tightened her hold. “We are already friends.”

Even as the Kingsguard pushed her down to her knees at the base of the Iron Throne, Argella would not stop hurling insults at her brother—the usurper.

But she did not care about the stupid throne or whose ass sat on the stupid metal chair.

She cared about Elia and her babies.

“Did your hurt pride truly rob you of your last shred of humanity?”

“Silence!” Robert roared. He waved his hand and the armored grips on her shoulders were removed. “You are my sister. I will not fight you-”

“Fight me! You coward! You could not bear to have little Lyanna be anyone else’s wife! You are a spoiled boy with a toy—so you broke it so no one else could play with it.”

“I am your king! You will-”

“I will not! You will listen to me. You have robbed three innocents of their lives for your stupid pride. Elia and her children were not a threat to you. They would have renounced any claim to the throne if you had asked. But you left them bloody and nearly unrecognizable,” she spat. “They were children—babies. And Elia was gentle and kind. And you killed them!”

“I know!” Robert yelled, his voice cracking and echoing in the hall. “Do you truly believe that I do not care-”

“I know you don’t! Because you sit there with a crown on your head and wine in your gut like a glutton. You will ruin this kingdom—you will ruin yourself even more than you have already—you have ruined me!”

It was almost embarrassing how quickly Argella found herself half-in-love with the Dornish Princess. She was kind and beautiful and clever and she was fond of whispering vulgar jokes into her ear when they were surrounded by other highborn noblemen who were preparing for the royal wedding in just a few moons’ time.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” Argella murmured as they both pulled the blankets on Elia’s bed up to their chins in the dark room. Argella’s room was always too warm and, since she was the princess’ companion, it was blessedly common for the women to share a bed. After all, the companion was to tend to the princess’ every need at every hour she may need. “I think I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.”

Even in the dark, with the smallest sliver of moonlight filtering into the room, Argella watched a smile spread across Elia’s face. It was the sun—she was the sun.

And then Elia kissed her.

She wished she could say it looked like Elia was sleeping when she saw her next. But no. She had fought like a tigress against the hands of the Stranger but she was still ever so delicate. She had lost that fight.

“I’m sorry, my love. I am so sorry,” she whispered, her fingers just touching the ends of Elia’s hair, remembering how she used to braid it when Elia would be up late with her babies, nursing them or tending to their cries. It was always so soft under her fingers and Elia would smile at her over her shoulder whenever Argella tied off the ends. “I wish it were me. I wish it were me on this wretched table and you were still holding your babes close.” Tears tracked down her cheeks and splashed against Elia’s cooled skin. “Oh, my love. I am so sorry.”

The wedding was lavish, as it was bound to be for the Crown Prince and his bride.

Argella would be lying if she said it did not hurt to see Elia pledge her love and loyalty to Rhaegar. He did not deserve her. Rhaegar had been obsessed with prophecy since he was a boy and Argella wondered what he would do to Elia in pursuit of a fulfilled divination that was centuries old.

But she smiled at her Princess when she turned, holding Rhaegar’s hand, and was pronounced the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

The Seven Kingdoms did not deserve her either.

“She shines brighter than any sun, does she not?”

Argella turned at the sound of the voice and smiled as she recognized who was speaking. Oberyn Martell. Elia’s younger brother. He was a dashing man, filled with charisma and charm—and a temper as bright as his smile.

“She does.” Argella wanted to say more. Wanted to say that the dragon prince would try to stifle her shine, that the cloying dirt of the capitol would try to warp her into another mindless drone, that the last night Elia had spent as an unmarried woman had been in her arms. But she didn’t. She only smiled at Oberyn and clapped along with the crowd as the newly married couple walked by, out into the sunlight.

“I wanted to name you Princess of Dragonstone—my heir.”

Argella turned at the sound of Robert’s voice, biting back a snarl. “I would refuse. Have you no shame?”

“I need you-”

“You’re marrying Cersei Lannister. She will provide you plenty of heirs, I’m sure. Just as many as your precious Lyanna would have, too. Or any other girl in the Seven Kingdoms.” Argella turned back to her trunk and placed the dress she had been folding on top of the others.

“It was not me who killed her.”

“No. But you might as well have. You started the rebellion. You marched on the capitol. Every little thing comes back to you and your hurt pride, brother. And for that, I will never forgive you.”

Argella watched Rhaegar dance with his new wife and tried not to scowl. Weddings were supposed to be happy occasions. Royal weddings even more so. But she wanted to rip her hair out when Rhaegar was cold with Elia time and time again during the festivities. It was his wedding—he had married the most beautiful woman in the world, the kindest, the most gentle. And he could barely muster a smile.

“May I steal you?”

Argella nearly startled at the question but laughed as she recognized Oberyn at her side. “As long as it is only for a dance, my prince. You know I must stay by your sister’s side.” She placed her hand in his and let him lead her out toward the other dancing couples. He held her close and she let his pleasurable scent of spice and citrus invade her senses as he led her through the steps of the familiar dance.

“Elia speaks highly of you, Lady Argella.”

“She is too kind. It is a joy to be at her side.”

They spoke easily for the next few songs and dances, and Argella knew she could have easily fallen to Oberyn’s teasing and magnetic charms. She could have chased his smiles and made herself stupid trying to earn his laughter and attention. He was a handsome man, a learned knight, with worldly aspirations. He was who any woman would aspire to marry.

But all she could think of was how soft Elia’s lips had been last night.

But Oberyn smiled at her, unaware of her internal conflict, and she had to smile back. She could never deny him that, it seemed.

“You were my favorite, you know.”

Argella bit back the sneer she felt growing as she finished packing away the small trunk she had taken. “Renly and Stannis both starved for a year holding our home against the Tyrells but I am your favorite? I must say that I hope your new crown grants you a bit more awareness.”

Robert reached out and wrapped his strong hand around her wrist, stopping her movements. “Please, Argella. Please.”

And despite wanting to simply run him through with any sharp object she could get her hands on, she let her older brother turn her to face him and almost scoffed at the tears in his eyes. “What?”

“What would it take for you to forgive me?”

“More than you could give, your grace.”

Robert’s warm hand dropped. “I am giving you one hundred thousand dragons, to help you make a home wherever you see fit.”

“I don’t want your coin! I want Elia alive and breathing! I want her babies to still call me ‘Aunt Argella’ and tug on my hair! I want my life as it was—before your hurt pride ripped it away from me. I was happy, Robert. I was so happy.”

“You used to be happy on my lap, listening to me tell you stories. You used to climb into my bed when you had nightmares because you trusted your brother to keep you safe.”

Argella felt her chin wobble with fresh tears. “Yes. I should have known better. Should have known that you were a selfish brute when you never returned a single one of my letters after you were taken in by Jon Arryn at the Eyrie as his ward. Should have known when you dismissed me out of hand when you came back to Storm’s End. I waited all night for you, to see you come back on your mare. I made sure the cooks had your favorite meal waiting for you, spent more than a few dragons getting that ale you liked from the market—and you waved me off as soon as the gates were opened. You have always been selfish, Robert. I should have known you would take what little happiness I had and squash that, too.”

Robert’s face turned a familiar, terrible shade of sweaty red and he turned away sharply before turning back to her, dragging a hand down his cheeks. “It was not me! I did not steal your Elia away from you!”

“Then tell me who! Tell me who gave the order!”

Elia happily sighed as Argella kissed the backs of each of her thighs, up her back, shoulders, before nipping just slightly at the pulse of her neck. They had been granted a few hours reprieve of Rhaegar’s presence and had indulged themselves in a little carnality, filled with soft touches and wet kisses that lingered and fingers that moved to touch places only the other knew about until they were biting at the other’s shoulders with a cry of release. Elia’s labored breathing slowed as she turned to face her lover, tugging at the ends of her dark hair, silently requesting a kiss which Argella happily gave. “Only the sun can rival the warmth you bring me.”

“You are my sun, Elia.” And then she kissed her again.

“Dorne is calling for war. Prince Oberyn is readying House Martell’s bannerman as we speak,” Jon Arryn, Robert’s new Hand of the King, and surrogate father was pacing around the Small Counsel chamber like a white haired pony.

“My sister wants to travel to Sunspear to deliver Elia and her children to her family,” Robert said.

Argella held her breath from her hiding place behind the door, waiting for Jon Arryn or some other stupid man to say it was not her place.

“That is acceptable. Perhaps Prince Oberyn would be willing to marry-”

“I will not force my sister into any arrangement she does not design herself. That will be the last I hear of it, Lord Arryn, am I understood?”

Jon let out a sigh. “Argella, must learn her place, Your Grace. And it is to serve you and the Realm.”

“Oberyn has sent another raven.” Elia held up the bit of parchment with a smile. “It seems you have made quite an impression on him. He has dreamt of your ‘beautiful eyes and sweet smile’ while he has been running around playing sellsword in Essos.”

Argella chuckled and shook her head. “I am sure he has plenty of people to distract himself with. I will be barely a memory to him in a few moons’ time.”

Elia reached out and tugged at the end of Argella’s braid. “You think so little of yourself, my love. No one would ever be able to forget you. Even when I am old and frail and I can barely remember my own name, I will remember you. I know it. The way you smile, the sound of your laugh,” she reached out to brush a finger down her cheek, “the curve of this, just here. I will remember you.”

Argella leaned forward and kissed her. “And I shall remember you, too, my love. Until the end of my days, which I promise will be at your side.”

Dorne was warm—even as the last vestiges of Winter had the other kingdoms still firmly in its grip. Argella had to pull the silly gable hood from atop her head only a few hours after sunrise as they crossed the Red Mountains. The traveling caravan was small. Much smaller than what was probably proper. But that was what she wanted. House Martell did not need more strangers showing up at their doorstep.

It irritated her enough that Jon Arryn insisted he accompany her, telling Robert that Argella wouldn’t be capable of easing Doran’s (and Oberyn’s) need for vengeance.

Their want for vengeance was justified. Argella wanted vengeance.

And she would have it. She was not satisfied just yet. She wasn’t sure if she ever would be, even if the world was left in ashes.

“Lala,” sang a familiar voice. “Lala!”

Argella opened her eyes at the sound of her secret nickname and had to catch Elia as she pounced onto her bed. “What is it, my love?” She asked in a tired whisper, eyes half closed again already. The sun had not yet risen but it was not as if she would send Elia from her bed.

“I am with child. The maester just confirmed it.”

Argella sat up in bed and her hand pressed against Elia’s stomach, all traces of sleep evaporating in a heartbeat. “Truly?”

Elia happily nodded and placed her hand over Argella’s, squeezing her fingers.

“Oh, my love. I know you have always wanted a babe of your own.” She just wished it was someone who truly loved her. Not Rhaegar—not the dragon prince who would use her babies for some delusion. “They will be the most loved. I know it.”

“Even by you?” Elia asked, her melodic voice very soft, almost frightened. “I know you do not care for Rhaegar-”

“This child comes from you, my love. I love them already.” And Argella meant every word. She would love this little prince or princess as if they were her own. She knew the moment Elia’s lips touched hers all those months ago that this relationship, this clandestine bond, would always be confined to the shadows and the dark of the night. But she truly wanted to scream it from the rooftops that Elia was the love of her life. She wanted to hold her hand in the sunlight, kiss her for all to see. Wanted everyone to know that the Sun of Dorne was worthy of every bit of love anyone and everyone could give her. But she was quiet. She remained the perfect lady in the eyes of court, living for these stolen moments.

Elia kissed her—and Argella could feel her smile pressing against her mouth. It was Argella’s favorite sensation—aside from the more carnal feelings only Elia could elicit from her beneath their silken blankets. “I love you,” Elia whispered against her mouth. “You know that, don’t you? I love you.”

“I love you too. More than words could ever truly express.” She kissed Elia and ignored how something churned in her chest.

“I have a list of names—if they are a boy or a girl.”

“As your ‘most trusted confidante,’ I must insist that you add Argella to your list,” she said with a wink, referencing how the court referred to Argella. Elia smiled and moved down the bed just enough to lay her head in Argella’s lap, a silent invitation for her to play with her hair. “Tell me the story behind your name. It is one of your ancestor’s names, correct?”

Argella hummed as she started to weave a braid into Elia’s hair. “The Stormlands were once ruled over by the Durrandon family. But, during Aegon’s Conquest, the head of the house was King Argilac the Arrogant. Argilac and Aegon tried to find a common agreement but it quickly soured when Argilac chopped off the hands of Aegon’s envoy and sent them back to the Targaryens in a box. Orys Baratheon, Aegon’s Hand, then challenged Argilac to a duel and, of course, easily slew Argilac. The Storm Land armies fled. Argella was Argilac’s only daughter and heir. When she heard of her father’s death, she barred the gates at Storm’s End and crowned herself Storm Queen.”

“Now I see why you’ve been given such a name,” Elia teased, earning a pinch to her side.

“The Stormlanders heard of how Aegon and his sisters burned everyone in their way and turned on Argella as Orys approached with his army. They wrapped her in chains and presented her—naked, mind you—to Orys Baratheon. They told him that he could do whatever he wished to her as long as they did not suffer the same fate as Harrenhal.”

“I have not heard of this. How cruel!”

Argella sighed and nodded, finishing off one of the braids before starting another. “But Orys was kind. He wrapped his cloak around her and fed her warm foods, telling her of her father’s bravery on the battlefield.”

“And then they were married?”

“And then they were married. Orys took the Durrandon words as his own—Ours is the Fury—and House Baratheon was created.”

Elia was quiet as Argella finished the second braid. “That is cruel, to name you after a woman whose fate was less than fair. I only knew she was the wife of Orys Baratheon—but I might have dozed a little when learning the histories of the other kingdoms with my Septa.”

Argella laughed lightly and leaned down just enough to brush a kiss at Elia’s temple. “I do not blame you—but I did always wish I was Nymeria of Ny Sar instead of Argella Durrandon.” She then pressed a kiss to Elia’s lips. “But I am lucky to have you in my arms now.”

Elia reached up to tug at the loose strands of Argella’s dark hair. “There must be other names in your family that are kinder to women, no?”

“I’m sure there are—but women are rarely written about in our house’s history aside from how many sons she might have given her husband.”

“I remember learning of a mermaid…Elenei? Am I saying that right? Elenei?”

Argella chuckled and nodded. “Yes. Elenei the mermaid—daughter of a sea god and goddess of the winds. Fell in love with the First Storm King, Durran Godsgrief, it is said. Her parents forbid their love and used their might to tear down any castle he built for his bride. But he kept building. Building and building until their storms could not shake the stones free.”

“And Storm’s End was made,” Elia finished with a smile on her lips.

Argella hummed and glanced outside to the moon. What would her ancestors say of her now? Hiding her love in the dark.

“Elenei. I like that name,” Elia said, seemingly unaware of Argella’s bit of melancholy. “A much better story than poor Argella. She must be happy to know that someone as strong as you carries her name. I am sure of it.” She tugged again at Argella’s hair with a smile, drawing her gaze back to her. “Truly, I can only think of one person holding that name.” Elia turned in her lap to truly look up at her, bathed in moonlight. “It is you—only you.” She reached up and placed her warm hand against the curve of Argella’s cheek. “My Lala.”

The towers of Sunspear loomed overhead and she tried not to think of a young Elia running down those marble steps, a laugh on her lips and the sun on her skin.

This was the place Elia called home. This was the place that she had wanted to return to with her babies. This was the place that Argella never wanted to see without Elia at her side.

“My lady,” a knight said to her, draped in colors of House Martell, “Prince Doran is waiting for you in his Solar. I shall escort you. Your entourage will have to wait here.” His eyes cut to Jon Arryn in particular who was already opening his mouth to argue.

“I follow where you lead, Ser. Lord Arryn needs some sun anyway.” She only gave Jon Arryn a look in return, drying the words on his tongue before following the knight into the cooled shadows of the fortress.

The pair was quiet, only the sound of their footsteps echoing in their hall, before he slowed to a stop in front of a carved, white wood door and bowed his head just slightly before opening it for her.

“Lady Argella, I’ve been expecting you.”

Rhaenys was beautiful. Beautiful like her mother and liked to laugh when Argella would kiss her little tummy. Argella did not mind when Elia would ask her to hold the little princess when she grew tired. The birth had been hard and the healers and maesters said it would take time for her body to heal itself.

Rhaegar, the pompous silver-haired prince, did not seem to care that his wife was bedridden. He had already pressed Elia to agree to the name of Rhaenys and didn’t seem to spend much more time than necessary with his newborn daughter. He did dote on her, true. But Argella knew and wished that he could do more. More for Elia. More for Rhaenys. More for his family and less of that stupid prophecy he was known to obsess over when he was in trusted company.

“The dragon must have three heads.”

It all sounded so ridiculous. He had everything. A family who loved him. And he continued to not see that, willfully.

But she pushed that from her mind as Rhaenys happily slept in her arms while Elia was napping, too. Her sun tilted toward the slip of sunlight warming the side of her pillow as the sea washed up on the shore just a few feet below. The hum of Dragonstone was quiet.

This was peace. This was as perfect as her life could get, she knew it. Despite all the secrets, the hurt, the loneliness when Elia was called away, this right here? This was worth all of it.

Rhaenys’ dark eyes opened and she smiled as she recognized Argella—she was a smart little babe. “Hello, my little sundrop.”

Doran had given her a room in Sunspear for the night, telling her the arrangements had been made to have the funerals tomorrow. The Silent Sisters who had accompanied them down were making sure the bodies of Elia and her babies were prepared correctly for people of their station and rank.

Argella didn’t sleep that night. Doran seemed to know she wouldn’t and had a maid come in when the moon was at its highest with a bit of tea to help her. She took it with a soft ‘thank you’ but hardly sipped at it as the maid stood at the side of her bed.

“This was the princess’ room, you know, my lady. When she was a girl.”

And that just about destroyed her but she hid her face in her teacup and quickly drained its contents before handing it back to the maid who quietly excused herself, probably aware that the woman was about to burst into tears.

And Argella did, as the door shut in its frame. Through blurred vision, she could almost see Elia sitting at the edge of the bed with a smile and a book on her lap. She could almost see Elia wrapping herself in the golden silk of the blankets with a happy smile. She could almost see Elia.

And that was the worst part of it all. To know that Elia had been here, in this place, felt safe in this place, and now she was here—alone.

The Tourney at Harrenhal was a disaster. And that was putting it politely. There had been the unannounced and unexpected appearance of King Aerys—who had barely been seen outside Maegor’s Holdfast in the last two years. Then the appearance and subsequent disappearance of the mysterious Knight of the Laughing Tree. Little Lord Jaime Lannister had been inducted into the KIngsguard and then sent to King’s Landing to guard Queen Rhaella and little Prince Viserys, which in one move, stripped Tywin Lannister of his heir and refused Jaime the chance at more glory in the tourney.

But that was not even the worst of it. Elia had been feeling poorly the entire time and Argella was fretting constantly, like an old mother hen.

But she did remember how Elia was when she was pregnant with Rhaenys, and knew that Elia wanted to keep the second pregnancy a secret until she was sure she could carry this babe to term, too. She was so delicate. But she still sat in the box, beside her uncle Ser Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard, and Oberyn, who had finished his ‘adventures’ across the Narrow Sea, to cheer on her husband in the tourney.

On the night before the final day of the tourney, Argella was happy to see Elia with a bit of life back in her face as she danced with Oberyn and Ser Arthur after the night’s feast. Oberyn then called Argella for a dance and whispered in her ear, making her laugh as one song turned into two then three. And if he snuck a kiss against her cheek, she would never tell.

Argella then pulled her princess away with a secretive smile, toward her tent. “We cannot be sure that Rhaegar will win tomorrow—so I wanted to be sure to crown you the Queen of Love and Beauty.”

Elia laughed and kissed her as Argella plopped a crown of braided blue roses on her shining black hair. “No matter if he does or not, I know that I am yours,” she whispered.

And, for a moment, Argella was happy.

The happiness would not last.

Rhaegar did indeed win the jousting tourney and he was given an ornate crown of blue roses to crown his Queen of Love and Beauty. Argella steeled herself to watching Rhaegar lathe half-hearted attentions on his wife—but what happened was much worse. Rhaegar rode his horse past his pregnant wife and placed the wreath of roses in the lap of Lyanna Stark.

The Septon’s words were a low hum in her ears. She could only stare blankly ahead as the funeral processions continued on. It felt like a rusted blade had wedged itself between her ribs and twisted with each breath she took. It ached.

Most of the Dornish in attendance did not look at her. She might as well have been just another pillar in the large hall. Unnecessary and unimportant. But some others… some other she could hear whisper if she put in enough effort.

“That one… the doe. The Usurper’s sister.”

“She must be mad to show herself here.”

“She should have died instead of Princess Elia.”

And they were right. She wanted to be dead instead of Elia.

But a few were kind, their eyes sad as they looked at her, as if they knew something she did not. One of them was Harmen Uller, Lord of Hellholt. His large, warm hand clasped her shoulder and squeezed gently, murmuring his condolences with kind eyes. Lady Mellario, Doran’s wife, also did not avoid her, giving her a small smile as they passed each other in the halls and offering her solar if Argella ever needed a reprieve from the court at Sunspear. But her young daughter, Princess Arianne, was always at her side, and it hurt to see the happy little girl who would always ask after her Aunt Elia.

It hurt.

So she sat in her rooms and cried.

Elia was quiet as she sat on the edge of her bed. She had managed to school her face into careful indifference during the tourney but had sunk into herself as soon as Elia had pulled her away into the tent. Oberyn was raging—vowing vengeance against the Crown Prince for the public display of shame he had just cast over his wife.

But Argella did not hear his words, only sitting at her princess’ side and holding her hand, trying to be there for her when she needed. She would do anything to make Elia smile again.

“He told me that he would do this,” Elia finally said, pulling a gasp from Argella and stopping Oberyn in his tracks.

“What?”

Elia lifted her chin from her chest and looked at her brother with tears in her eyes. “The maester told me that this babe would be the last I could bare.”

“What does that matter?” Oberyn hissed. “Two is plenty—two is perfect. Rhaenys is perfect,” Argella said, grip tightening on Elia’s hand.

“He has been obsessed with a prophecy—the dragon must have three heads—since he was a boy. He thinks the savior of the world will come from his bloodline.”

“I will split his head in three,” Oberyn said but Elia reached out and grabbed his arm as he moved toward the tent’s flap.

“Do not, Oberyn. I will remain his Queen, the true Queen. The babe I now carry will be king and any child the wolf-girl bares him will only be a spare. He has promised me this. But I had…I had only hoped that he would have waited until they were alone for him to start his courtship.” She shook her head. “And I am not sure if the girl told her betrothed of Rhaegar’s plan.”

Oh, that was right—Lyanna had been recently betrothed to Robert. He had been so excited to announce the news and then promptly brought two women to his chambers to ‘celebrate.’ Argella doubted marriage would tame his appetites. But his pride would be wounded. And a wounded stag was a dangerous one—Robert embodied the Baratheon’s words to his core. Ours is the Fury.

“Robert is an eligible lord. He can find another bride, I am sure of it.”

Elia nodded. “I do hope so. For his sake.”

The funeral had ended and Doran had asked her to wait for him in his solar. She awkwardly stood near the window, watching the sea lap at the shore until the door opened with a slam.

“How dare you show your face here, in Elia’s home!” Oberyn was already raging from across the room, his voice echoing. He was crossing the marble floor then, strides long. “You—the sister of the Usurper. You—who my sister trusted with her life. I should strike you down where you stand.” He stopped as he stepped to her side, his beautiful face twisted into a snarl most fowl.

“I would let you.”

And that seemed to strike at Oberyn as he took a single step back. “Have you no self-preservation? Did you come here to let us kill you like some lamb? To sate your brother’s guilt?”

“No…no I came here to…bring Elia home.”

Oberyn’s snarl faded. “Then you come here to sate your own guilt.”

“I came here to bring Elia home,” she repeated, standing just a fraction straighter despite the urge to curl into herself, as if that would shield her from Oberyn’s stare.

“You have done that. Leave.”

Dragonstone felt as if it were about to be consumed by the volcano on which it sat.

The paranoia of King Aerys had only grown, thinking everyone was his enemy. A raven the king had sent to his son was filled with unsubtle threats and demands for Rhaegar to stay at his side, to remain loyal to his father.

But Rhaegar only played his stupid harp and pored over his scrolls about prophecy as Elia languished in her pregnancy.

“He is preoccupied with saving the world, Lala. Try not to hate him too much.”

Argella sighed as she pulled the blankets a little higher around Elia. She had been so cold lately, constantly shivering as her hands cradled her growing belly. “If he truly wanted to save the world, he would have deposed his father long ago.” She shook her head. “He should be preoccupied with keeping you comfortable. You are carrying his child.”

“We both know you are more suited for it—and I prefer your company,” Elia said with a smile.

Argella had to smile at that and leaned down to kiss Elia’s forehead before sneaking a kiss against her lips, too. “Then I shall stay at your side until you tire of me.”

Elia chased her lips as best she could for another kiss before falling back against the silk-covered pillow with a smile. “You know I will never tire of you.”

The sun was beating down on her but the soft breeze off the water almost made it tolerable. The dark veil over her face fluttered and hid her tears from the other onlookers. The grand tomb of Elia and her children had been finished just that morning. The final brick laid. They would rest beside their ancestors in Sunspear’s ornate necropolis. They were home again. They could rest.

Argella walked forward and pressed her hand over the deep carving of Elia’s name. Princess Elia Nymeros Martell – The Sun of Dorne.

“Goodbye, my love.” She lifted the veil just enough to kiss the smooth stone of Elia’s name—the last kiss she would be able to give her. Her fingers traced Rhaenys and Aegon’s names, too. A quiet goodbye.

It was time for her to go. She had only a few more things to attend to and then…she would set sail. She would leave Westeros.

The royal stables still held her wheelhouse and she found the trunk she was needing and waved off the servants who offered her help. She dragged the trunk into her room and unlocked it before feeling fresh tears sting her eyes. Tucked inside, neatly tucked beside her dresses and chemises, was a portrait. It was of Elia and her babies. They were smiling and happy and…alive.

Some artist from Braavos had impressed Elia with his talents as he sold his wares at the market on Dragonstone and Argella had secretly commissioned him for the portrait only a handful of moons before the rebellion started. She had meant to gift it to Elia for her next nameday.

It was a true likeness—he had perfectly captured the gentle warmth in Elia’s eyes as she looked down at Aegon in her arms as he slept and Rhaenys dutifully peeked over her mother’s arm to look down at her brother. The gold dragons Robert had gifted her were left forgotten at the bottom of the trunk as she closed the lid, the portrait in her hands as she moved toward Doran’s solar.

A servant bowed to her as he announced her presence and Doran welcomed her, telling her to take a seat across from him at his finely carved desk as he finished a bit of correspondence. And she patiently waited, the portrait sitting on her lap, her arms wrapped around its frame as if she were trying to hug it—to hug the little family on its canvas.

Perhaps she was.

When she handed it over to Doran, her fingers lingers on the carved frame before dropping back down her lap.

Doran was quiet as he looked at the portrait but she could see the emotions running through his eyes before he tightly shut them and nodded once before calling for and handing it off to a servant and whispering where he wanted it hung. The servant nodded before walking away, the portrait in his hands held like a precious gem.

Argella told him of how Elia had loved the artist’s skill and Doran smiled at that. “She would have loved it. I know it.” He paused to clear his throat, the warble of tears in his voice. “It is a fine gift, my lady.”

“I have…one last gift for you. Much less palatable than the last.”

Rhaegar had left.

His wife had nearly died bringing his son into the world and he had set off with his band of guards to the Riverlands, quoting the prophecy again. Lyanna Stark waited for him.

The raven Argella had sent to Robert, telling him to break off the engagement to the wolf-girl had went unanswered.

“I am nervous, Lala. Everything is about to change.”

Argella stepped beside Elia at the window and kissed her temple as she watched Rhaegar and his retinue recede on the horizon. “And I shall be with you every step of the way.”

“I know that you were more than a companion to Elia.” Doran said it with such ease that it startled her. They had been quietly sipping tea in his solar as the sun rose when he spoke. “She loved you. I know you love her. You have lost your sun, too. And you have come here, to return her and her children home, despite knowing that your welcome would not be kind.” Doran took her hand in his and gently patted at her wrist. “The truth will come out, little doe. But we must let all of Dorne grieve, too.” He sighed and his eyes moved to the giant skull sitting on a tall-legged table. That had been the price Robert paid to try to buy Argella’s forgiveness. He had told her who had been the one to steal the sun from the world and demanded Tywin hand him over or he would not marry Cersei. Tywin had agreed. “I have been told that you are hoping to set sail for Braavos on the next ship that comes to port in a fortnight.”

She nodded.

“You will always be welcome here.”

“I cannot stay here—not without Elia.”

And Doran nodded at that. “If you ever care to return, there will be a place for you at my table.”

“That is kind of you, Prince Doran. Your wife has also suggested I visit her homeland of Norvos, if I am given the chance.”

Doran opened his mouth to respond when the door opened and Oberyn strode in. His dark eyes darted from his brother to Argella. “I thought you would have left by now.”

“Oberyn,” Doran scolded.

“I am surprised you would sup with a Baratheon, brother. First Jon Arryn comes and tries to offer peace and you take it without argument.”

Without a word, Doran opened a drawer on his desk and produced a bit of parchment from its depths. “Oberyn. I have a letter for you.”

“Now is not the time, brother.”

“It is from Elia.”

“I have already been given the last letter my sister wrote to me. Telling me of how scared she was in the Red Keep and how she loved me.” His dark eyes looked to Argella again. “How she wished that I could have been there.”

“There was another, brother,” Doran gently said, extending his arm out, lifting the letter a little higher.

Oberyn looked from Doran to Argella again before pulling his lips tight against his teeth and walking over to snatch the parchment from Doran’s outstretched hand. He opened it and Argella watched his dark eyes scan the words, his face crumpling as he finished. And then he looked to her again. “You? It was you?”

Argella looked to Doran who only looked back at her, eyes unreadable. “I…I don’t understand.”

Oberyn carefully tucked the paper into his tunic before marching forward to grasp Argella’s arm and nearly hauled her out of the room, through the halls, and toward his own chambers. When the door shut, he pushed her into the overstuffed chair at his desk. Dozens and dozens of letters were neatly stacked on top and Oberyn whispered that she should read them. He placed the letter he had just received beside the stack. “You deserve to know.” And then he left her there, alone in his solar.

It took Argella a moment to work up the nerve to reach out and grasp the first letter, recognizing Elia’s neat handwriting.

Argella dashed down the stairs toward Elia’s chambers with a smile on her face. She had woken in a good mood at Elia’s side that morning and had only slipped away to dress for the day. The sound of metal on stone seemed to echo in the halls and she briefly wondered if the royal guards were running drills.

But, as she turned the corner toward the hall that contained Elia’s chambers, two spears were thrust out toward her. “Lady Argella Baratheon, you are forbidden from seeing Princess Elia.”

“Move aside. I am her maid—it is my duty to-”

“Your brother has taken up arms against the Crown. House Baratheon are traitors. You are now a hostage until your brother is dead and your brothers swear fealty—or they are killed.”

“I demand you move aside this instant! I am no threat to Elia or her babies. I am loyal—you have-”

Two more guards suddenly grasped her arms and started hauling her back toward her chambers.

“Elia?! Elia?” She screamed.

But she was a prisoner here, too. She knew it.

My dear Oberyn, I am in love. I know only you would truly understand when I say that it is not with my husband. I shall only call them Lala, to keep their identity secret—I would not have them persecuted at Court if these letters would be discovered. But I am happy, brother. Happier than I ever thought possible.

They have kept me sane, dried my tears. When their lips touch mine, I believe I have tasted heaven—if only for a moment. My Lala is my haven in this wretched world. Rhaenys is fond of Lala, too. It is…almost as if the gods have blessed me with them, letting me have my true family at my side, letting me know what I should have had. …perhaps it is actually a curse.

Over and over again, Elia had written to Oberyn about ‘Lala,’ telling him of how they lived. How they loved. She read of how much Elia had loved her.

“Lala?” The voice was soft, but it still woke her from sleep.

Argella sat up in her bed in an instant, recognizing the dark shape at the edge of her bed. She reached out and drew Elia into her bed and quickly pressed her lips to hers, desperate and wanting.

“I do not have much time. The guards are changing shifts and they will notice I am not in my chambers if I do not time this correctly. But I had to see you.” She kissed Argella again. “I needed to see you.”

“You must know I would never, ever do anything to endanger you or Rhaenys and Aegon.”

“I know, my love. I know it as well as I know my name. But I have been summoned to King’s Landing. We leave at first light.”

“Will I be coming with you?”

Tears filled Elia’s eyes as she shook her head. “You cannot. You are to stay here as leverage against your brothers. And I do not know what Aerys would do to you if you were to come to Court again. I have learned he has been burning dozens of people a day.”

“You cannot go,” Argella said, grasping at Elia’s hands. “It is not safe.”

“You know I must. I would only make his ire worse if I prolong how long it takes me to arrive. I would rather arrive with my head held high than in shackles that I know these knights would slap on my wrists if given the order.”

“Elia, please,” the tears were choking her. “Please, do not-”

But she kissed her again. “I love you.” And in the next breath, she was gone.

One last letter remained and she dreaded what it held, what Elia had written to Oberyn to make him forgive her so easily, but she slid her thumb under the broken seal anyway and read it.

Oberyn. I know my time on this plane is coming to a close. I can only hope that my babies will survive this but I know in my heart of hearts, that they may not. The Seven Heavens await us all. I wish I could have seen Sunspear one more time, pushed you into the pools at the Water Gardens like I did when we were children. You used to pout so much after I would do that, and mother always fussed over you. I miss you brother. More than words can say. I wish I had more time. When this is over, please tell Argella, my Lala, I love her. Tell her I know she was innocent in all of this—it was not her doing. Tell her to smile. Tell her I will wait for her. She helped me understand what love should be like—she gave me her heart and I gave her mine. Tell her that I will be with her—every sunrise and every sunset. I am with you all.

The last letter slipped from her hand and Argella wept.

Her hands hurt. For hours on end, she would hit the locked door of her chambers, pleading to be let out.

But no one would answer. She only heard the terrible sound of metal on stone as knights moved through the halls and once a day, a plate of food was slid beneath her door.

How long had it been? If she was counting the moon’s cycles correctly—it had been three months.

She had nearly given up the last tendrils of hope she had before her door suddenly swung open and a familiar face stood in her doorway. Queen Rhaella Targaryen looked as bruised and beaten as ever, but the gentle swelling of her stomach was new—she was pregnant.

“Lady Argella,” her voice was as soft as it ever was. “I must apologize for your captivity. I have instructed a ship to have you brought to Greenstone—your mother’s home, was it not?”

“It…it was, your grace.”

Rhaella nodded and held out a hand to Argella, helping her stand from her place on the cold, stone floor. “I hope you do not hold me in any ill will. I had not heard of your imprisonment when we disembarked. I would have had you home sooner.”

Argella shook her head, her greasy hair falling in front of her face. “I know you are kindhearted, your grace. I am happy to see you safe.”

Rhaella’s answering smile was small and she nodded. “I will have a maid sent up to help you wash. Your ship will leave at first light.”

And Argella would have been lying if she did not feel a bit of relief as she saw the familiar island of Greenstone come into view as the ship neared its shores. Her aunt and uncle were quick to welcome her and made sure she was comfortable in their finest rooms. And it was only then, that Argella had the nerve to ask what had happened.

Her aunt smiled. “Our little Robert is King of the Seven Kingdoms. Is that not wonderful news?”

“And…and Princess Elia? Little Rhaenys and Aegon?” She hated the sound of hope in her voice. It was cruel to her own ears.

Her uncle sputtered and looked to his wife for a moment. “They were killed when the Lannister army sacked the city.”

And the scream Argella let out nearly shook the walls.

Oberyn sat at her side without a word. He did not speak. Neither did she.

But silence eventually turned to quiet, stilted conversation which evolved into seeking each other out at meals and then Oberyn was slipping into her rooms at night so they could continue their discussions, falling back into old habits of hidden smiles and secrets and trying to make each other laugh even if they wanted to cry.

On the last night, Oberyn slipped into her room and watched as she packed away her belongings and readied for bed. As she neared the bed, he stood and grasped her hands in a soft grip that had her sucking in a shuddering breath. She did not want to say goodbye just yet.

“I loved you once. I might love you again—I believe I do already.”

That was equal parts the best and worst thing he could have ever said. “And I love you still. But not in the way you deserve. You…” the words were hard in her throat. “You deserve to be someone’s sun. You deserve to be someone’s first choice. And you will be, I know it. You will find the true love of your life.” She paused. “And I know I would only be a reminder of those who you loved and lost.”

“Just as I would be to you.”

Argella nodded and dropped her head to her chest. “Yes. I am so sorry, Oberyn. Truly.”

But he shook his head and squeezed at her fingers. “Do not be sorry, little doe. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He stepped closer and rested his forehead against hers, both of them squeezing their eyes shut at the contact. “Let us not part on such sad terms. Let our last memory together be one of happiness.”

Argella nodded as best she could, trying to keep the warmth of his embrace as close as possible. “Whatever you wish. Whatever you want. It is yours.”

And the night they spent together was filled with hungry, searching kisses and warm hands and slick skin. Oberyn kissed her as his release rumbled through him and then quickly made sure she found hers, too, before making sure she was truly tired and finding euphoria with each other again before they both fell asleep in her rumpled blankets.

And she did sleep soundly—far better than she had in over a year. Before the Rebellion. But she still woke before the sun and took a moment to watch Oberyn sleep—peaceful amongst the silk. Carefully, she brushed the hair away from his face and kissed his brow in a silent goodbye before slipping away.

At the port, she caught sight of Harmen Uller and his retinue, preparing their boats to return to Hellholt.

“Ah, my lady. Prince Doran has told me you are departing as well.”

Argella only nodded before seeing a beautiful woman step to Harmen’s side.”

“This is my daughter, Ellaria Sand.”

“My lady,” Ellaria said with a small curtsey.

Argella mirrored the motion. “Lady Ellaria.”

But Ellaria chuckled. “I am no lady. But I do wish you fair travels.” Ellaria reached out and grasped Argella’s hands and squeezed, as if knowing that she was in desperate need for some sort of simple contact. “And whatever lies before you, I hope it is kinder than what lies behind.”

Lord Uller nodded at his daughter’s word.

“And I wish the same for you. Your kindness… it has been most welcome.” She smiled as best she could and bid them goodbye as they were boarded onto their fine ship. And then it was time for her to do the same.

She crossed the gangplank and was welcomed by the crew who had been expecting her—and her gold. Before she was shuffled away to her cabin below deck, Argella turned and looked back at Sunspear, trying to press it into her memory. She wanted to remember how the sun shimmered on the golden towers and how the sea salted the air and the sand glistened.

And on just the edge of the dock, just a few feet away from the bustle of the early morning crowd, was Oberyn. He raised a hand to her, a quiet goodbye. Argella did the same.

And then she turned and walked away.

Braavos was welcoming. Filled with song and people who would smile and the customs of the city demanded that the highborn and wealthy wear black—it was fitting. She could wear black the rest of her days, a mourning dress. But while they would treat her with the respect a woman of her station warranted, both high and lowborn would take an opportunity to coo over the babe on her hip.

It had only taken her a few moons to realize she was with child. And Elenei came screaming into the world just past midday, when the sun was at its highest. Fitting. Elenei looked like a Baratheon—except for her eyes. Her viper eyes that would shine in the light and always seemed to know more than she said. Those were inherently Oberyn. She was a Martell.

And she was the delight of the maids who watched her when Argella was tending to her duties as a companion to the Merling Queen, one of the most revered courtesans Braavos had ever sheltered. Her duties mostly included letting Laena, as only Argella was allowed to call her when they were alone, speak of her troubles and help her remember when she was supposed to meet whichever rich lord had paid for her company that week.

Laena was kind and sweet and sometimes would simply cry when she felt that her public persona had robbed her of a true life, of happiness. In a way, Argella was reminded of Elia. A kind woman shackled to duties she did not truly agree to and confined within a gilded cage. So, she let Laena use her as a walking diary, let her express emotions she could not with anyone else. It was cathartic for both of them, in a way.

Argella did not need the coin the position provided—she could have lived very comfortably with the small mountain of gold Robert had given her. But she needed a distraction—and the connections she made at Laena’s side made sure Elenei would be as high-ranking as she ever could be in Westeros.

Elenei was her whole world. The light of her days. She need only look at her daughter’s face to feel herself smile.

She hoped that Oberyn would smile again, too. She hoped her would find happiness with someone kind and beautiful who would handle his wrath with gentleness. Her mind conjured a thought of Ellaria and she found herself smiling at the thought. They would be a handsome pair. Maybe the gods would allow them to be happy.

For a few years, as Elenei continued to grow and prosper into a lovely and well-learned little lady, Argella pondered telling Oberyn of his daughter across the Narrow Sea. But that would have been crueler, wouldn’t it? To drag him back to into the tumult and loss she knew she embodied for him and his family.

And Elenei seemed to know that her father was an important man—but that her mother’s heart also belonged to another. And would forever.

“The sun is shining today, mama. That always makes you smile,” Elenei would say whenever the almost ever-present clouds would clear for a few hours.

“Yes, my sweet one. The sun will always make me smile.”

Elenei smiled and held her mother’s hand, dragging her out of their manse as their servants chuckled at the familiar sight. “Then I must make you smile, mama!”

“Do you think you’ll love me forever?” Elia asked, eyes closed as sleep started to take her.

“I know I will.”

(And another banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites I love you)

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

#elia martell x ofc #oberyn martell x ofc #oberyn martell x oc #oberyn martell imagine #game of thrones imagine #asoiaf #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn martell #elia martell

132 notes · View notes

nepenthendline · 4 years

Text

Together - Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima isn’t good at helping you out of a dark point, but you won’t be going through it alone

A/N: This follows my hcs for Tsukishima with depression and anxiety

TW: depression

Tsukishima:

Some days were worse than others, and some days you felt like there was nothing wrong at all, but at this time your thoughts were in control, taking your mind and body as their slaves as they festered and multiplied. The past few days blurred into one; you're surprised you could even tell a few days had past since your body felt so empty and distant.

Those voices chose to chant in your head sometimes, telling you that you're worthless, stupid, a waste of space, and at other times they left you in a deafening silence, taking away any ounce of joy or content that you could possibly muster. It's like your mind decided to go into hibernation, just waiting until the cold inside you was over before it would restart and allow you to function as usual.

Your sleep schedule was a mess; falling asleep in the early hours of the morning, waking up late in the day and napping in the time between. Your dorm room was littered with empty snack packets; it seemed you'd been eating a ton recently, although none of it had been an actual meal, and barely any water had passed your dry lips.

Normally you would be anxious about all the classes you had missed at university, but right now you couldn't care less. It didn't matter anyway, none of it mattered when your life was pointless in the first place.

Your phone lit up with a notification, forcing your eyes to squint in the dark room. With a sigh, you turned over in bed, waiting for the screen to shut off once again. And it did, until a minute later when another notification brought it back to life. But you ignored it once again, reaching over and turning your phone to face down on the table before shutting your eyes again, although you weren't exactly sleeping.

A while later you could hear some movement in the hallway outside your room, although you didn't have the energy to pay much attention. A knock rattled through your room, followed by the door opening and letting through streaks of much-needed light around the tall figure that entered.

You knew someone had come in, despite them not saying anything, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull the blanket from around your head and stayed still, hoping they would just assume you were asleep and leave. Not even when the person sat on the side of your bed and placed a hand on your covered body. It was a large hand, quite cold too, and the weight was familiar - Tsukishima.

"Are you going to get out of bed any time soon?" His deep voice, the first sound you had heard in a while, seemed to boom through your skull, even though he spoke relatively quiet. You shook your head, jaw clenched and pulling the blanket closer to you. You didn't want to speak, in fact you probably couldn't at the moment even if you tried since your voicebox had retired for the past few days.

It was silent for a minute or so before the heavy hand removed itself from your body, and the weight on the bed left. The last sound you heard was your door opening and closing, plummeting you back into the dark quiet.

This is technically what you wanted, to be left alone, but the lump in your throat still managed to grow larger at the thought that Tsukishima had left you. You couldn't tell if you'd rather he was there or not; you definitely didn't have the energy to interact with him, but your hypothalamus was screaming for you to invite him back and hold onto him and be wrapped up in his arms.

You fell back into your catatonic state, laying still and silent but awake for a while, maybe half an hour, just living the time away. Your body tensed a little when your door opened once again. The figure entered and placed something down on the beside table, although you weren't facing the right way to see. Even through the blanket you could see the dim, warm light that filtered through the room from your lamp.

After some shuffling, the blanket was raised near your back, and then the warm figure took the empty space beside you. One arm raised and, tentatively, wormed its way around your body, holding you tighter to his side. You hadn't moved an inch since he held you, so he leaned in closer, pressing his face into your warm neck and left a light kiss in its new presence. He laid still by your side for a couple minutes, before his arm moved away again, although not going far this time. Reaching for his phone, he scrolled through the abundance of playlists he had carefully created, many of them for you in one way or another, and settled on one. Quiet, gentle acoustic music took the place of the silence, and his arm was wrapped back around you.

You don’t know how long you two laid there for, possibly a few hours since you had fallen asleep at some point. As your eyes opened, your focus was brought to the hand that had fitted its way into yours; his thumb stroking your skin just barely. Letting out a sigh, you occupied your mind with the electric feeling that spread across your hand. It was only a tiny fraction of what you normally felt in his presence, but it was the most you had felt in a little while.

Taking a deep breath, you collected a few drops of energy to turn over, instantly coming face-to-face with your boyfriend. His golden eyes stared into yours, fluttering around slightly as he looked over your face. He looked so soft and gentle in the dim light, and you could see his eyes perfectly since his glasses weren’t covering them like usual. Shuffling forward, you tucked your head into his chest, breathing deeply and letting his scent overwhelm you. You felt his head tilt down, brushing over your hair and placing a kiss on your scalp.

Part of you wanted to release at that moment, to cry and let it out, but the reality is that the numbness was stronger. So you settled for listening to the music and his heartbeat - anything to drown out the rattling emptiness in your head. Although it was quiet, a song that was new to you played through his phone speaker. It was comforting and sweet and, before you thought about it, your hand lifted from below the blanket to reach for his phone and find out the title. Once you put the phone down, you noticed the bag on the table, the one he must have put down earlier. It was still too dark to see clearly, but you could tell it was containers of food, plus a couple bottles of water placed next to it.

“I got some pork buns, in case you felt like eating later,” he spoke, following your eye line to the bag. You nodded, tucking back into his chest.

You wished you could empty all of your thoughts to him, tell him everything that made your heart feel so heavy, but the truth was you didn’t even know how you felt yourself. You couldn’t put it into words to share with him, but he knew that.

“I…” you started, whispering into his chest as your throat scratched at it’s first warm up. You swallowed and breathed deeply, before shrugging, “ I don’t know.” It was all you could say, and it made no sense, but you felt him nod above you.

“I know,” he murmured back, raising one hand to brush through your hair.

“You can go if you want, it’s ok,” you muttered, although now you were in his hold, you couldn’t stand to let go, and luckily, he shook his head.

“Honestly I have no idea how to help you. I don’t know what’s going to make things better but I know how you feel, I get it. I can’t even sort myself out when I’m like this, so there’s no chance I’m going to be any help to you, but I’m not going to let you deal with it alone. We’ll go through it together.”

And you did. You spent the rest of the day in bed, drifting in an out of sleep as the music continued to play. Tsukishima passed you pieces of food every now and then to nibble on, and make you take a sip of water ever half hour. He listened to you if you needed to say things, and let you be when you needed silence. But he never once left your side.

#Let this flop and I'll come for you #Haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagine #haikyū!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #Tsukishima kei #Tsukishima x reader #Haikyuu comfort

174 notes · View notes

ohnopoe · 3 years

Note

Hiya there!!!! Could i maybe please have some headcanons about the characters you write for being in love with a very domestic/ cottagecore/ disney-princess-loving sweet girl who works at a daycare (with babies) ?

Im sorry if that didnt make much sense im french but i love your writing!!! Have an amazing day!! 😊

Your patience is extraordinary. I’m so sorry this took so long, and I’m additionally sorry that I couldn’t provide more characters for this. Between it beginning to feel repetitive and just having a mental block on it, which has been practically consuming my ability to write, I’m afraid I was only able to give you five characters, but hopefully the accidental mini stories they turned into makes up for that!

Under the cut you will find headcanons or miniature fics tbh for Din Djarin, Ezra, Frankie Morales, Javier Peña and Poe Dameron

Din Djarin

Looking after Grogu is Din’s priority. So, when he sees his adoptive son clinging to your leg after he leaves him at the small daycare on Nevarro, utterly enraptured in your every movement as you finish putting away the colourful pencils the children had been playing with, well, he’s intrigued.

When Grogu is reluctant to leave the planet, putting on a fuss as he flies away, well, he’s fascinated.

Plenty of people got along with the little green baby, and it seemed people fell for his big bug eyes everywhere they went. But he hadn’t seen the child so enraptured before… It was almost the same kind of adoration he seemed to throw towards Din.

Weeks pass before he’s landing back in Nevarro, ready to take on another job, and he’s almost forgotten about you. But the way Grogu perks up at the familiar surroundings is an instant reminder.

He hadn’t even intended to leave the kid at the daycare this time, it was only meant to be a short trip after all, but who could say ‘no’ to those pleading eyes?

The day’s half over when he knocks on the door. Children of all species are spread about the room, and there’s an air of chaos to the scene, but as you meet his gaze through that vizor that keeps him shielded from the rest of the room, he finally understands the absolute sense of calm you exude.

He’s frozen.

Your smile cuts through him, it’s gentle and soft and reassuring and everything he didn’t know he’d been missing for so many years now.

He stutters, genuinely stutters when he hands Grogu over, asking if he can spend the rest of the day with the other children. And if you notice, well, you’re not about to mention it just yet.

He’s making more trips to Nevarro, even he refuses to acknowledge why. The kid needs to socialise more, jobs from Karga are smarter, it’s good to keep in contact with the Cara, to know what the rebellion is up to… Excuses seem to pile up upon one another. Of course it couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that every time he sees your smile directed at him, every time he watches the way you play with Grogu, the world seems a little lighter.

A dangerous mission is what changes things.

He knows it’ll bring good credits, and provide more safety for the kid in the long run, but bringing him along for the ride is too risky, and it’s exactly what the enemy would be expecting. So he asks if you’ll look after him, just for a few days.

Of course, you’re more than happy to take the little green menace, but it’s the way you tell him to be careful, the way he can almost see genuine worry in your gaze as you utter words of care that he’s so damn unused to that has him struck once more.

The sight of you there, looking at him with such a gentle look, with his kid in your arms, well, it distracts him more than he’d care to admit.

So when he comes back to Nevarro, to your house of all things, he’s a little worse for wear, and he’s certainly not expecting the way you usher him in, or the way you look after him. Suddenly, leaving Nevarro at all seems like the stupidest decision possible, when you’re there in your humble house that still screams home more than anything he can remember.

He stays for days, you’re insistent that he heal properly and take the time to rest before he goes rushing back into the universe. And it’s the most relaxed he’s ever felt.

Ezra

After his time in The Green, Ezra is certain of one thing, he’s had enough of that damn colour.

There’s only so long you can spend surrounded by shades of green before it starts to haunt you, and even the most poetic of people lose any sense of beauty they once found in it.

But then there was you.

You, who lived a life so far removed from what he had experienced, that the flowery poetics seemed to just flow from him once more.

His insecurities after losing his arm seemed to lessen in your presence, caught up in the whirlwind that was you.

Laughter and joy seemed to fill the days, and sometimes he’d even help you with your work simply to enjoy the bubble of joy you seemed to exude, to embrace every moment of happiness that he was lucky enough to experience.

Colours seemed brighter, and filled with a range he had only hoped to see, when you were around. And those poems he had loved so dearly were not just a distant dream, they were tangible and real.

Softness and beauty coloured his days once more, and his heart was full.

Even green seemed more beautiful now.

Frankie Morales

In all honesty? He’s terrified. You’re his daughter’s daycare worker and it doesn’t matter that you make him smile, make those damn butterflies fill his chest in a way he hasn’t felt since he was an awkward teenager. It doesn’t matter that your smile is so damn captivating that it has him smiling goofily to himself the whole damn drive to work after he drops his daughter off with you.

It doesn’t matter because it can’t. He won’t interfere with your work and he certainly won’t be that creep who asks you out when you look after his daughter, no, nope, absolutely not.

But then, a year later, and his daughter is off to preschool, and yeah, ok, he’s a bit of a wreck as he shops for school supplies, but suddenly you’re there. It hasn’t been long at all, and yet he can’t help but think how much he has missed that smile.

It’s so much harder to explain to his little girl that, despite the chance encounter, you won’t be a part of her life anymore, especially when she’s so darn excited to see you, and so he stumbles, he struggles and glances to you for help and, well, the help you give has him even more lost for words.

You suggest lunch, on the first weekend after she’s started school. Just Frankie, her and you, all meeting at a park where his daughter can tell you all about ‘big school’.

He’s silent so long that you worry you’ve overstepped, and just as you’re about to ramble off some excuse in a desperate attempt to backtrack, he offers you the most beaming smile you’ve ever seen.

Well, your not so little crush was doomed, and so was your heart. But after lunch that soon turned into a weekly affair, you soon came to realise, your heart was in very safe hands.

Javier Peña

I’m not going to lie, at first Javier is skeptical to say the least. He’s seen chaos and pain and suffering for so long, that seeing someone so damn gentle? Yeah, he’s wondering what your game is. But then it becomes something else, it becomes a fascination. You seem sincere in your softness, and he finds himself smiling back at you in an instant, before he can even question it.

So, skepticism turns to curiosity. Are you just naive to the horrors of the world? Are you really that sheltered that you believe what the fairytales told you the world would be? He has to know, even if he’s cursing himself the whole damn way.

He’s spending more time with you to figure you out, that’s what he tells himself. Of course, it’s obvious to everyone else the change that you bring. His shoulders are less tense, he’s not bitting people’s heads off at work, hell, he’s smiling more.

It’s different to what he’s used to. It’s softer, and slower, and he’s reluctant as hell, but things just seem to happen.

You’re at his place as often as your own. You’re sharing movies with him that he’s never even considered seeing before, you’re sharing your lives with one another, and there hasn’t been a single date so far.

You’re everything he’s fighting to protect, before he can even acknowledge his own feelings for you. But as oblivious as Javier can be to these things, you’re not. You know the stories, the tales of love that seemed to pass him by. You’re patient as he navigates his way through his feelings.

It’s a random moment in time, really. You’re on his couch, talking about the children you work with, it’s just another day. But it’s everything to him. It’s the moment he realises you’re his all, that being right there, in that moment, listening to you talk about children you clearly adore, children that aren’t even your own, it’s all he’s ever needed, and all he ever wants.

The progression from that odd friendship to something more is surprisingly smooth.

Of course, he’s bound to stumble along the way, it’s so far from what he’s used to that he’s terrified half the time of stuffing up to a point of no return. But it’s genuine, it’s real, and you can both simply be yourselves; even if he does tease you a little about the ‘childish’ decor that starts to fill the apartment when you finally move in.

Poe Dameron

It was an accident, the first time Poe quite literally ran into you. BB-8 assured him that it would be faster to get to his ship through the path he had never ventured before as he rushed to fly out for a sudden mission, and he was right. What the little droid had failed to mention, however, was that said path ran directly through the resistance’s schooling area.

It was a small group of rooms, with few children of resistance members actually living on base, but it was something so downright shocking that it had him stumbling in shock as he glanced about at the colourful finger paintings and bright array of plants that he didn’t even notice the way the group of preschoolers stared up at him in awe, or, for that matter, the fact that you were standing before him... until you weren’t. The force of his sprint landed you on the floor with nothing but a surprised “ooft!” coming from your lips, and an echoing round of shocked and anxious gasps from your students.

After an awkward round of apologising, and continuing to call out long after he had checked you were alright and helped you up, he was off, making his way once more, the sound of “sorry!” fading away as he drifted further down the corridors.

One chance meeting suddenly turned into more. It seemed wherever he turned, there you were. Grabbing a late meal at the same time, having your med-checks one after the other… it was as if fate itself had decided the two of you simply had to interact.

You filled his mind, someone so normal amongst the chaos of war. And while he may not have realised it, he began to seek you out.

Chatting with your kids about flying, bringing back interesting plants he saw on his adventures, there was always a reason to see you, after-all, Poe Dameron was the King of Excuses.

But you brought him a sense of hope and home, something he had missed for far too long, and he wasn’t about to give that up anytime soon.

81 notes · View notes

catxsnow · 4 years

Text

MID-JULY J.T.

Summary: based off the song Mid-July by Craig Wilson. Jason visits a small town just to get away from his life in Gotham, he never expected to meet his summer love.

Warning: fluff

A/N: This was my secret santa fic for @woahjaybird (I went a little overboard) I hope you all enjoy, I most certainly had a lot of fun writing it!

Word count: 7.9k

I’ve been looking for a summer love

A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason Todd was drained to the point that he couldn't get up in the morning without dreading the day. Day in and day out he continued to lose himself in ways that he swore he wouldn’t. He hadn’t felt like himself in months and it seemed that all hope was lost to every get back to his normal self – not that was a good version either.

It was Artemis that told him to take some time off from being the Red Hood. Visit some beach in the middle of nowhere and enjoy himself without the stress of saving the world. Take the time to mourn those he had lost. It took him months to be convinced to take a break. Truth was, he needed it.

Years of beating himself down, burning the match at both ends until there was nothing left. He couldn't keep running on fumes, everyone saw it. Tired eyes, sluggish movements, adrenaline being the only thing that kept him going in tough situations. It was dangerous for everyone - and it was when a civilian died did he finally realize that.

So, after breaking down in front of his friends, Jason agreed to take a break. Just a couple of weeks, just to get himself back to where he once was. He found himself planted on the beach where not a damn soul knew his name. He didn't want to admit that they were right, Jason was tough - he didn't need a mental break. At least, that's what he told himself.

Even if he was on 'vacation' he couldn't stop thinking about the suit that was hidden in his closet. The presence of it didn't help him destress in the slightest. Every creak of the floorboards, the sound of voices outside his temporary home, everything had him on edge. It was the way that he was raised - letting go didn't come easily to him.

The place that he was staying in was nice. Some Airbnb that was way too cheap for the quality it was. A big bed, small kitchen, huge bathroom that seemed way nicer than the one in his own home. The beach was a walk away and parking was free. He couldn't complain, as badly as he wanted to find some excuse to go back home.

The first day that Jason was in that small town on the coast, he spent it walking around, casing everything and everyone. A habit that Bruce instilled in him. The people gave him a few looks, but kind smiles nonetheless. Some people waved; others just ignored him. He didn't mind.

The smell of a bakery enticed him. Fresh bread that reminded him of those cold winter mornings where Alfred would make him loaves upon loaves of bread. Jason watching him at the kitchen counter, working on whatever homework he had to do for school that he was behind in. He couldn't help but go buy a loaf from the sweet old lady.

On the second and third day, Jason spent mostly in his room. He couldn't be bothered to try and relax when clouds covered the sky and it threatened to rain. Instead, he took the time to unpack the few clothes that he had brought with him. If Artemis was going to make him stay there for at least a few weeks then he may as well make it comfortable.

It was the fourth day that he admitted defeat and strolled out the beach right by his temporary home. White sand, blue seas that went on for miles - it was a gorgeous place - just not his scene. The warmth of the sand felt heavenly against his skin. It had been years since Jason truly felt warm like this - not since before the pit.

It was that day that he realized that maybe this idea wasn't so bad, maybe he really could find comfort in this nameless town where everyone seemed to know everyone. The warmth alone... he forgot what it was like. Jason was always cool to the touch, his fingers like ice against the skin of his friends and family.

His hands dug into the sand, absorbing every ounce of heat that he could get.

As the sun went down that evening, and the heat of the sand dissipated, Jason packed up his items. The now-familiar smell of that oh-so-fresh bread filled him again. He hesitated - the first loaf had gone by so fast that a second sounded a little too perfect of a way to end his day.

Unlike before, the tiny shop wasn't empty. The older lady that smiled so kindly with him the last time was helping a girl who was no older than he was. Her voice wounded like silk to him and a bright smile that lit up the entire building. She held a box of pastries in her arm and chatted with the owner as if they knew each other forever.

The sound of Jason entering - or more so the bell above the door caught both their attention. The girl faltered for a moment, not recognizing him from their small town. Nonetheless, she gave him a wave before bidding the older lady goodbye. Jason opened the door for the girl, still taking in her beauty.

"I'm gonna guess you're not from around here," she paused in front of him. Jason nodded, confirming her prediction. She looked him up and down once before latching onto the vibrant color of his eyes. Her lips flipped into a smile only for a moment. "Try the apple turnovers, you'll never want to leave here afterward."

Before Jason could speak again, she was gone. For the first time since showing up in that small town, he wore a small smile on his face. A smile that he would have for the rest of his trip there, the one just for her. A smile that he didn't know could bring so much joy in his life in such a short period of time.

"I'll have the apple turnovers, please."

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason enjoyed the beach far more than he imagined he would. The sounds of the waves were louder than the ringing of gunshots in his head. The warmth that he craved lingering on him even in the late hours of the night. He didn't realize how one tiny place could bring him so much peace.

No one stared at the scars that laced him, no one questioned why he was there or where he came from. Everyone minded their own business - something he never got when he was in Gotham. Someone was always up his ass on what he was doing or chastising him for his choices.

Jason frowned as a shadow covered him, completely blocking the rays of the sun from hitting his body. He already had evidence of tan lines along the hem of his shorts and around his sunglasses. The pale scars against his skin protruded even more. He sat up on his elbows and removed his sunglasses to see who was interrupting him.

To his surprise, it was the same girl that he had met at the bakery. Her hair was pinned back in a braid, showing off her beauty even more. Jason's breath caught in his throat upon seeing her again. Her whole being screamed welcoming - and he didn't get that feeling easily.

"I see you've stuck around a little longer yet," She spoke. Jason bobbed his head, unable to produce any words. There was something about this girl that had him flustered without even trying. Maybe it was the innocence in her eyes - the incorruptible smile she had. Jason didn't want her to step foot near Gotham and taint that heart of hers - and he didn't even know anything about her.

"Was it the baking or the beach?" She continued on, hoping to get a word out of him. He hadn't spoken their last encounter either. Jason had piqued her interest - not many people came to their little town and certainly none as attractive as him. There's was a mystery around him and she was dying to know what.

Jason grew up with the intention of not to trust anyone. Even before he met Bruce, Jason knew that he could only ever rely on himself. After being Robin, he really knew that to be true. Trust didn't come easily to him anymore, but this girl... he wanted to be able to trust her the moment he laid eyes on her.

"The warmth," Jason finally coughed out. It was the first thing that came to mind. The pit had traumatized him - in all the expected ways of course - but never feeling warm or cold was something he never realized he could miss. The hot sand, the sun beating down on him, he really did make him want to stay.

"It's only June," she cocked an eyebrow. "Mid-July is when it gets really hot." Jason shrugged - how was he supposed to know? Either way, he wouldn't be sticking around long enough to see if she was right. His trip was already nearing its end. The short time did good on him - not that he would want to admit that to Artemis.

"I won't be around that long," Jason's voice cracked. His cough, once again, failed to cover it up; why was he acting this way? Smarten up, you can't even keep yourself composed to a girl? What's wrong with you, man? "Just taking some time off... work."

Work, if that's what you wanted to call dodging bullets and breaking bones. Jason shuddered at the idea of even thinking these thoughts around this girl. The nameless girl that he knew nothing about but felt entitled to trust. The girl that grinned down at him without knowing his story.

"Strange place to come vacation." Though the beaches were nice, not many people knew of her small town. It was the exact reason that Jason choose it. No one to know his name or his face. "Not much to do unless you've lived here your whole life."

"That's the point." His mind was always so busy that having nothing to do, nothing to keep him going... it was a hard adjustment but he already found himself sleeping more hours of the night. Jason hadn't known this girl in the slightest, so how come he felt like it was easier to talk to her than half the justice league?

"Well, if you're looking for something fun, there's mini-golf down the road," she pointed towards the general direction. "Though, you don't really look like the kind of guy that decides to mini-golf."

"Oh?" Jason chuckled. The sound surprised both of them - he never expected to spontaneously laugh at some little comment about his appearance. More so, she didn't expect someone as broad as him to have such a beautiful laugh. It caught her off guard.

This time, she fumbled over her words, "I mean maybe you are. Are you? Do you wanna go? Like right now? We can." Her eyes darted away from him, hands shoved in her pockets to keep them from fidgeting. Truth was, they never got men that looked as gorgeous as him coming by.

It was the 'we', that caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat, that same stupid smile making it's way onto his face again. Jason tipped his sunglasses back down on the bridge of his nose. The towel he was laying on was wrapped around his shoulders as he stood up. She looked taken aback by his height - forgetting from the last time that they met.

He stuck his hand out of her to shake, "If we're going to go play mini-golf together I think we're due for a proper introduction. I'm Jason."

The girl accepted his handshake after a moment of surprise. She wasn't sure if it was from the fact that he agreed to her pathetic attempt to ask him out or that she realized that they didn't even know each other's names. He was so approachable that she had had completely forgotten that they didn't know each other previously.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N)."

It's the middle of July, and my phone's been dry I'm in my feels, it's cloudy outside Small town A bunch of hills around with all the girls in my location Nowadays its hard to find new ones to talk to I need a chick who wants to get away with me Spend the weekends on the beach and get lost in the city

Jason always liked driving through the countryside. When he was young, Bruce or Alfred would offer to take him for a relaxing drive when he was stressed about his school or even his life as Robin. It reminded him of the times he got lost in his own head when he was young, wishing for better places.

To finally get to see these so-called better places in real life was always a little too surreal for him. He spent his childhood thinking about the beauty of the oceans, the rolling of mountains, and the vast forestry that lurked outside the city limits. It always seemed a treat when he would get to go with Bruce.

He hadn't gone much after coming back from the Lazurus Pit. Driving with no purpose now only let him get lost in his thoughts - often scary places within. Jason didn't like to get pulled back to the horrid memories of what happened to him. Driving alone always led to some sort of panic and he couldn't bare it anymore.

Driving with her was different.

In Jason's next week in that small town, he got to know (Y/N). Her life, her story, everything that a complete stranger didn't need to know. He learned about the school that she went to and her life growing up there, and how desperate she was to get away to the big city. He grew to learn her likes and dislikes, the faces she made when she laughed or was upset.

He picked up on the way her nose scrunched when she didn't like something and her nervous finger cracking. The differences in her smile - when she forced one out and when she felt genuine. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Not when they parted ways for the day, not when he was trying to sleep at night, not until they met up again the next morning.

They had spent nearly every breathing moment together during his trip. Their mini-golf spontaneous adventure led to a dinner of greasy burgers and late-night milkshakes. She was surprised that he was so willing to stick around that night, even to the point that he was asking to see her again tomorrow.

So, they met again, just outside the bakery they first met. And the next day. And the day after that. On the morning of the second last day that he was supposed to leave, she showed up with a woven basket and a smile on her face. A picnic. Of all things that Jason thought he would be doing that day, a picnic wasn't one of them.

Driving along the countryside, windows down, Jason was happy. Their picnic basket sat in the backseat of his car, (Y/N)'s summer playlist blaring through the speakers. The wind blew through her hair, exposing every perfection in her face. Jason could barely keep his eyes on the road.

While Jason didn't like driving these empty roads alone anymore, he found joy with her. He didn't get flashbacks of the time he was beaten to death or his past as a kid. He remembered the good times with Bruce and Alfred, he had created of new memories with her. Those were the kinds of drives he could get used to.

"What?"

Jason didn't realize he had been staring at her. He laid on a blanket that she had brought, tall grass all around them. She leaned back on her hands, watching the waves below on the cliff that they were perched upon. (Y/N) looked down at him upon feeling his gaze. His admiration ran deep.

"What?" He repeated her question.

"You're staring," she grinned. In the past few days, (Y/N) had noticed him zone out a lot. Sometimes lost in his own mind, sometimes a deep concentration on her. She knew bits and pieces of the reason he was there, about his family and friends. He was still just as big of a mystery as when they first met.

"Hard not to," Jason flirted. He laid down on his back, arms tucked behind his head and staring up at the cloudy sky. She mocked his actions, laying exactly like him. Their elbows bumped into one another, legs brushing just enough to know that she was still right there. He didn't mean to flirt with her, it just came out of his mouth so naturally that he couldn't stop himself.

(Y/N) got quiet suddenly. Her laugh quickly diminished, the smile on her face turned to a frown. As much as fun as she had getting to know Jason these past few weeks - he was leaving. Leaving to what seemed halfway across the world and too far away to keep in contact. She had made a good friend in him - only to have it torn away.

It was her own doing, she knew that he was there for only a matter of days. Maybe it was the big heart inside her that wanted his vacation to be fun, or the reality of it was maybe she just liked him a little too much to let go after one confrontation.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, concern filling him. They had such a great afternoon - long drives, good food, laughs that filled the vast void that they had found themselves in. He couldn't have asked for anything more perfect - and he assumed that she felt the same.

"Nothing," she tried to brush off. Jason leaned on his side to face her. His head rested in his hand as he gazed at the pout on her lips. (Y/N) turned to face him. He matched her pout - being a little overdramatic about it and successfully getting her to smile. "It's just... you're leaving, and I had such a great time with you these past few weeks. I always dread come home from school, but you've made it fun.

"I know you were only come here for a short trip - and that you were trying to relax and I hijacked that from you - but I just wanted to say thanks for making these past few weeks great. I'm gonna miss you, Jay," (Y/N) confessed. Part of her felt bad for completely overtaking his vacation. He was there to be by himself, and she ruined that.

The truth was - she made it far better than he could ever imagine. For the first time in a long time, Jason wasn't weighed down by the heavy helmet that sat in his closet. Sure - he didn't get to sit on his ass and soak up the sun like his original intentions were - but his time was far better spent.

He was happy during his time there.

Maybe, maybe he was a little too happy. Seeing her frown, the way her voice cracked when she spoke of him leaving, it made broke his heart. He didn't want to see her upset, not because of him. Jason's mind ran with thoughts and before he could stop himself, he spoke.

"What if I stayed?"

"What?"

"What if I stayed? For the summer?" When Jason asked again, he was sure that he wanted to make that commitment. If his friends and family wanted him to take a break, then why not go all out? Why not take this chance for him to be happy, especially when it was handed to him on a silver platter like this.

"You're crazy," She rolled her eyes. Jason's face was set in stone - he was being serious about this. (Y/N) faced him properly, she was already upset about him leaving, having this joking around would only make it worse. "You... you wanna stay? But what about Gotham? Don't you have your work-"

"Gotham can live a while longer without me," Jason assured, cutting her off. "I haven't been this happy in a long time. Why not stay a little longer? Unless you don't want me to-"

"No!" She exclaimed. "No, no - I really, I really like the idea of you sticking around." Jason didn't realize that she could look cuter than she already was. He was wrong. Her flustered-unable-to-properly-function look had been far more adorable than he would have ever imagined.

"Do you now?" He teased, trying to get even more of a reaction out of her. (Y/N) buried her face in her hands to try and hide her embarrassment. Jason gently grabbed her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. Her eyes were still sealed shut, scared to see that he was just kidding about staying.

To her surprise, instead of some absurd excuse as to why he actually needed to go back home, that he couldn't stay with her, she felt the softness of lips on hers. He had been thinking about it all afternoon; how good she would feel against him, what the taste of her lips was like.

As quick as his kiss was, he was gone. Jason already felt like he was overstepping his boundaries, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable from his sudden choice. (Y/N) looked at him with shock across her face, she didn't know that he thought of her that way. Hell, she still didn't.

All she knew, was that the second his lips were gone, she craved them again. Jason was pushed back against the blanket by the force she had. His hands grabbed her hips, holding her steady as she kissed him again. Her lips were needy against his like she had been waiting for this moment since they had first met.

He could feel the heat radiating off of her. The same kind of warmth that he felt for the first time when he was surrounded by sand. The same warmth that reminded him of what his life was like when he was happy. Her warmth, everything about her reminded him of those times.

Jason felt droplets of water against his skin. The coolness of the rain felt like it would sizzle against the warmth of his skin. It didn't seem to bother her - not until the sparse drops turned heavy. The clouds above them had quickly turned dark, and rain poured from the sky. It soaked their clothes, the blanket they laid on.

(Y/N) pulled away from him, droplets falling down her face and onto him. A grin was plastered on her face. "We should go," she giggled. Jason nodded; the rain was making all his clothes stick to him in the worst kinds of way. He grabbed the basket while she bunched the blanket up into her arms. They were thrown into the trunk of his car but before she could run off into the passenger's seat and safe from the rain - Jason pulled her against him.

He leaned down to kiss her once more, not caring about the rain just the everlasting heat that she gave. Her hand latched against the back of his neck, kissing him until her lungs screamed for air. She pushed against his chest, edging him to the driver's side of the car.

"You're something else, Todd."

I've been looking for a summer love A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

"You know you've played this song four times within the last hour, right?"

"Are you dissing my music choices? Because if you are, the door is right there, you're free to leave."

Jason was leaning against the headboard on his bed. A book was in his hands, reading lines that made his heart skip beats because they reminded him of the girl rest against his stomach. (Y/N) looked up at him, peeking below the book he was reading. Her music played in the speaker she had brought for him.

"I'm free to leave? This is my room!" Jason exclaimed. He set the book down beside him to give his proper attention to (Y/N). She intertwined his now free hand, resting them both against her stomach. Her head tilted up, lips pouted, and awaiting a kiss from him. Jason happily complied with her wishes. "May as well be your room with the amount of time you spend here."

"Fine, I'll take my playlist and find someone new that appreciates it," She threatened. Jason tightened his grip on her hand, keeping her on his bed. Of course, he knew that she was only joking, but even the thought of her leaving upset him. "Hmm, that's what I thought. Not so tough after all."

As big and intimidating that Jason looked, (Y/N) quickly learned that he was by far the biggest softie that she had ever met. His love for literature, cooking, and an appreciation towards art and creativity. He was nothing that he looked like on the outside. Every time she learned something about him it was shocking.

"Yeah, yeah," Jason rolled his eyes. His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her completely flush against his chest, his leg was thrown across her and no chance of getting out. He peppered her neck and face with kisses, squeezing her tighter as she let out a laugh at him. "Didn't picture you to be such a sap," (Y/N) squirmed around in his arms until she was able to face him. Jason swooped down for another kiss before she could continue - which only proved her point even more. She pushed away the hairs from his face, lingering on the white streak that protruded through the black. "Leather jackets, big and burly, deep voice," she tried to mimic his own voice.

"Let's keep that between us, I have an image to uphold." (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him - whatever image he once had was long gone the moment he met her. "Hey, don't roll your eyes at me."

"Oh? What if I do it again?" She grinned. Jason narrowed his eyes. Over the time that he had been with her that summer, he quickly learned that she loved to test him. Pressing his buttons to get a reaction, doing the exact opposite that he asked off, she loved seeing him get all pouty and frustrated. "Gimme another kiss and I won't."

Jason wasn't going to complain about that kind of deal.

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

"You were right."

"Geez, I don't hear you say that very often," (Y/N) chided. She laid on her back, the sun beating down on her skin with Jason doing the same beside her. The sound of children laughing and screaming overpowered the waves that beat against the shore. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, the perfect weather to be on the beach.

Jason hadn't spent much time on the beach after meeting her. In fact, he barely spent any time apart from her. Consumed with each other in less than two months - he could never get enough of her. She quickly became his everything while being on his trip.

The stress of being The Red Hood dwindled, Artemis' advice might have worked a little too well. Jason was so happy being away from his old life that the thought of having to go back, to leave her, kept him up at night. He didn't want to leave this somehow perfect 'white picket fence' life that he had made for himself in such a short time.

The reality of his life remaining this way was slim. Something would come up or the truth would come out. He couldn't keep living like this, not forever. For now, he would appreciate the summer fling that truly was changing his life for the better.

"It's far hotter mid-July," Jason revealed. He thought he felt warmth that first week of being there, now, he could get the residual sun rays to leave his skin even if he wanted to. Whether he felt them directly or radiating off (Y/N)'s body at night, he was always consumed with warmth.

He'd miss it when he had to leave.

"Hmm, that's not what I was hoping you'd admit, but I'll take it," she looked over at him. Jason leaned over to peck her lips. (Y/N) knew that was going to be the only confession that she got out of him that afternoon. Jason didn't like to admit that someone else was right - she learned that early on.

"What were you hoping I'd admit?" Jason raised his eyebrows. There could have been a ton of answers coming out of her mouth. Why he was so secretive, why he tensed every time she went near his closet, why he was always so hesitant to talk about his job or his family. He was a mystery - and he hated that he had to keep it that way.

They were both better off if he kept it that way. Two months of being together, and one until she had to go back to school, and he had to go back to Gotham. Whatever life-threatening secrets he had; he was going to keep them hidden from her. This trip was about finding an escape - and he had found it in her.

(Y/N) shrugged before laying back down, sunglasses covering her eyes. Jason shuffled closer towards her; he grabbed her hand so he could intertwine their fingers. The roughness of his skin caught her attention once more. She didn't move until Jason kissed her again, this time properly and more than just a single peck.

"Maybe it was that I wanted to admit that I love you?" Jason spoke. He had been thinking about it for days. A love that he had never experienced before. This wasn't a love that would last a lifetime - till death do him part. This was an innocent summer love that he wanted to take full advantage of.

Jason couldn't see the look in her eyes, not with the sunglasses covering half her face. (Y/N) wasn't shocked - not in a cocky way. They had been spending all their time together, she had been just as invested in this summer love as he had. To be honest, she didn't expect him to say it first.

(Y/N) stayed imperturbable for just a moment too long. Jason became nervous that his announcement had been far too soon - or if their relationship even called for it at all. It wasn't until the ear-to-ear smile that spread on her face that he knew that she felt the same. (Y/N) nearly leaped onto Jason, not caring about the families and couples that were around them.

Her lips were on his, the smile never failing to leave her face. Rushed lips, bumping noses, Jason grabbing at her hips like his lifeline. His cheeks were flushed pink when she pulled away from him, chest heaving at the lack of air.

"I love you too, Jay," she confessed. "Sometimes. You're really a pain in the ass when you wanna be."

Jason feigned a look of hurt. Without missing a beat, he stood up and hoisted her over her shoulder in one swift movement. (Y/N) squealed as he headed towards the water. She reeled her hand back and slapped it against his ass, hoping that he would drop her from the action. It didn't work - at all.

As soon as he was deep enough in the frigid cold water, Jason dropped (Y/N). She was soaked from head to toe, teeth chattering from the cold. No matter how hot it was outside, the water was yet to warm up for the day. Jason barely felt the cold against his legs - or his whole body when she dragged him down with her.

"I take it back!" She yelled. (Y/N) climbed against Jason's back, clinging to him in hopes to get most of her body out of the water. Her arms wrapped around his broad chest, legs squeezing around him. "You bitch."

"Can't take it back babe, you already said it," Jason teased. He turned his cheek to the side, awaiting a kiss from her. Begrudgingly, she did. "I love you."

Don't recommend me a phone application I'm to old school for online dating A friend's pressing me to download the app 'Cause there's some woman in my zone that down to get (aye)

Lost touch with all the girls in my city I'll probably never find someone I'm way too picky Back in June I had this fling I wasn't feeling Ever since I cut ties my iPhone's been dry

It seemed as Jason's trip felt more and more permeant, their deadline also became too surreal. It was weeks until (Y/N) would have to leave her hometown once more to go back to school. In return, Jason would have to return back to Gotham as the Red Hood. Time was ticking, but that wasn't going to stop them from making the best of their last few weeks together.

There was something about the time that they spent together that made him forget about his life in Gotham. He forgot the pain that he had to endure. Forgot about the nightmares that woke him up. Forgot about the scars that were scattered across his body. Jason couldn't be more grateful.

(Y/N) had helped him immensely, and she didn't even know it. She didn't know the real reason that he came to this town, or why he had chosen to stay for longer. It was because of her lack of knowledge that he was reminded of the good in the world. There was no motivator, no dire need to help a poor soul like him.

She did it because she wanted to. (Y/N) dedicated her summer to him because she genuinely enjoyed his presence and wanted to get to know him - not because he was the son of Bruce Wayne or because he was The Red Hood. She knew Jason Todd, the real Jason Todd that very few people got to see.

"Whatcha thinking about, hotshot?"

Jason stood in his tiny kitchen. It wasn't much, but it sufficed for the time that he was staying there. His home - the house he was staying in - was only meant to be for a couple of weeks. With his time being extended, it proved to be problematic in mundane ways. His issues now were trying to get an open washer and the laundromat instead of dodging bullets.

Was this what his life would have been like if Bruce never took him in? Unlikely. Jason was just a kid off the streets, he never would have made it there if Bruce hadn't taken him in. He wasn't sure if that kid on the streets would be proud of the person he was today. It didn't matter, there was nothing that could be done to change it.

Jason was always going to be stuck in the life of the Red Hood. Nothing was going to change that. Nothing could change that. Not a person, not a wound, not even dying stopped him from being in this life.

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her cheek rested against his tone back, fingers trailing on the curves of his muscles. Jason rested his hand over hers, a smile making its way to his face once more.

"Well I was trying to make you breakfast in bed, but I guess now it's just breakfast," Jason sarcastically told her. He spun around to grab her hips and lift her onto the last empty counter space. As per usual, one of his shirts hung off her body. "Sleep well?"

"With you? Always," she nodded. Jason didn't want to think about how bad his sleep was going to get upon his return home. He had been sleeping solidly through the night and going back to his usual nightmares and lack of hours pained him. For the first time in a long time, he felt filled with life again. "You didn't have to make me breakfast, you know?"

"Of course I did," Jason scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. How could he not make breakfast for a beautiful girl sleeping in his bed, in his clothes? "What kind of Gentleman would I be if I didn't?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Gentleman. Jason laughed at her reaction, the sound echoing through the small room. She trailed her fingers along the curve of his biceps before planting her palm against his cheek. He quickly pecked her lips before returning to the stove.

Jason intently focused on the pancakes in front of them, hoping to make a perfect flip. After his success, a small box was placed in front of him. (Y/N) had a grin on her face as she watched his confusion grow from the box in her hand. He raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Come on did you really think you could hide your birthday from me?" She explained. Jason nearly forgot his birthday every year. Age didn't seem to matter after everything he's been through. If it wasn't for Dick being so persistent on getting him a gift every year, he'd ignore it completely.

(Y/N) gestured for him to grab the box from her. "You didn't have to get me anything," Jason gave her a look. He didn't want a gift; he didn't want to celebrate or anything of the sort. Reluctantly, he grabbed the small box from her hands and pulled the string to open it. Inside, a silver chain laid.

It was simple and somewhat reminded him of the one his brother wore day-to-day. However, looking at it closer, he noticed a small chain was replaced with a solid link. The small initial of (Y/N)'s name was engraved on it. "I know what you're thinking, kind of narcissistic to get my letters engraved on it but... with us leaving in a couple of weeks I just wanted you to have something to remember this summer by."

Jason felt his jaw tremble for a moment. He could hear the pain in her voice at the idea of them splitting ways. The meaning behind the gift that meant more than she would ever know. He set the gift on the counter and brought her into a bone-crushing hug. Jason didn't like celebrating his birthdays, but this was the best gift he could have received.

His head was nuzzled into the crook of her neck, trying to hold back the emotions that ran through him. "I take it you like it?" She tried to joke. Jason nodded against her. He took a deep breath to calm himself before pulling away. His hands rested on her cheeks, admiring every bit of beauty.

"I love you," Jason kissed her. His heart swelled with love. "This summer... I'll never forget it. I just, I just want you to know that this summer meant everything to me. I can't thank you enough for everything that you've done."

"You don't need to thank me, Jay. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect summer. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect summer love. You changed my life... You made me happy and that's all I wanted. I should be thanking you for deciding to come to this shitty little town. Maybe it was fate, maybe I just have ridiculously good luck. Either way, I'm glad I got to get to know you, Jason Todd."

I'm still looking for a summer love A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason couldn't stop the memories of last summer from flooding him. Every building he passed, every street he went through, all he could think about was her. Her smile, her laugh, the annoying way that she too adorable for her own good. He was consumed with the thought of her again.

Although parting ways nearly ten months ago was hard, they both knew that by the end of the summer they would have to say goodbye. The love that they had was nothing but a summer love, and as much as neither of them were really ready to let go - it was for the best. Hearts weren't broken that day, they were filled with a reminder that even a summer love can prove that there's always someone out there.

It hurt less that day than it did for Jason driving through. He had no intentions of coming back - not when he was sure that if they saw each other again, he wouldn't be able to leave again. It was a spontaneous choice that led him back there, one that he hoped he wouldn't regret.

His friends and family asked him a countless amount of questions on why he was gone so long and what he had been doing. Jason held out, he couldn't care to tell his family of what he had done with his time. That was his privacy, and he intended to keep it that way. The last thing he needed was his brothers knowing that he stayed for a girl.

A girl that changed him, made him happy. A girl that encouraged him to be his best self. Sure, they had noticed his change in attitude, his willingness to smile more often, to laugh louder. It was Dick that pestered him to no end to figure out what had happened to him. Hell, he didn't even know where his little brother was.

Artemis was glad to see him happy again. She was the only one who didn't interfere with his personal life. The only one that was just happy to see him happy, without needing to know the why. He appreciated that.

Jason stopped at the place that they had first met - the bakery. It was a different woman in there than usual, much younger but far crankier than the kind lady that made Jason feel welcome. He ordered two apple turnovers - just as (Y/N) had recommended him.

He sat out on the bench just outside the bakery. A reminder of the hours that they could spend there, stuffing their faces with donuts and laughing at everything imaginable. The heat of the mid-July sun beat down on him, filling him with the warmth he hadn't felt since he left there.

Why was he so nervous to go see her? (Y/N)'s home was less than a mile's walk away and yet Jason couldn't bring himself to move his legs towards her. It was as if he was meeting her for the first time again and fuck was he nervous.

Subconsciously, Jason grabbed the chain she had bought him. He spun it back and forth against his neck, remembering back to the day that she had given it to him... and the day that they had said goodbye. He never took it off after that day - not for anything. It always remained tucked under his shirt as a constant reminder.

Jason sighed. His elbows rested on his legs and he looked down to the ground. God did he miss her. He knew that he shouldn't, that they had a love with a deadline. He knew that from the start, he told himself that he wouldn't get hurt by it - and he wasn't. Leaving the town wasn't the issue, being back in Gotham wasn't either.

It was coming back. A mistake that he chose to make.

"I know that white streak anywhere," a familiar voice spoke. They blocked the sun from shining down on him. Jason looked up, a smile on his face at the woman in front of him. "Jason, it's so good to see you."

Jason couldn't tell whether he was happy or disappointed that the woman in front of him wasn't (Y/N). The kind lady from the bakery stood in front of him. She looked weaker than the last he has seen her - which may have explained the reasoning for her lack of work. He slid over on the bench and offered her a spot next to him.

She waved her hand, "I can't be staying, but thank you," she told him. "I assume you're back here to see (Y/N)?"

Jason let out a breath - it didn't seem real being back there until he heard her name again. "Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm sorry, dear," She spoke. "(Y/N) didn't come back this summer. She stayed at school." Jason felt his breath catch in his throat. School, further away from Gotham than her hometown was. He should have known that she would - she talked about it all summer. Wanting to stay in the city, find work, make a life for herself.

Jason knew that. He knew that she wouldn't be back there. Yet, he had come anyway hoping to see her again. His heart cracked. This was for the best. (Y/N) (L/N) was a summer love. No communication, no texts or calls since he left. That was the deal. It was easier for both of them that way.

"It's good to see you again, Jason. You've grown up even more since last year," The lady from the bakery gave him one last smile before entering the shop. She paused at the door, looking back at him. "Summer loves don't always have to end in the fall, not if you don't want it to end."

No, they didn't have to end. They could go on for years and years - no longer a summer love but a true love. But at what cost? Jason's life was disastrous. He had told himself from the start that he didn't want her brought into it, even if it meant giving up his slice of happiness. He couldn't break that promise.

Summer loves didn't have to end, but in his life, he had no other choice.

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd one shot #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood oneshot #fluff #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #summer love

225 notes · View notes

razorblade180-heated · 3 years

Note

Yoimiya and Kazuha fluffy smut to celebrate you gettin her 😏

Festive reunion

[Warning, it’s smut, duh…]

Speechless, it was never a word in Yoimiya’s vocabulary. It also was the last word anyone would use to describe her. On a normal day she was the chatter box of any conversation bringing zest and joy to any topic. However, today was a bit different. The hot blooded extrovert was had prepared herself to meet tons of new people now that she had been summoned to fight alongside Aether and his companions. Yoimiya had failed to realize one of them was Kazuha. It wasn’t like she forgot him. Far from it. There wasn’t a day since his departure that Yoimiya didn’t think about him and his flowery words that contrasted yet complimented her straight forward thinking. Looks like the feelings were mutual, because the wandering samurai was showing a more direct side of himself she’d never seen. With her hand in his, Kazuha led her to his temporary home inside a magical teapot.

Yoimiya couldn’t help but blush. She had only just showed up! Not only that, but he had gotten permission to perform the wishing by himself, creating this alone time. What are the chances the others knew his intentions to begin with? Oh her poor heart couldn’t handle that level of embarrassment!

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“H-Huh? What’s up?”

“Your face, it’s bright red.”

Yeah no kidding! Anyone’s would be in this situation. Being swept into romance moments after showing up somewhere was a lot to process for her.

“I’m fine. Hehe Just a little hot outside and you know…stuff.” She smiled sheepishly, fidgeting a bit.

Kazuha gave his own gentle smile as he blushed lightly. “Guess I’m going a little fast huh? Sorry, we take things slo-”

“No! Uhh I mean…it’s okay, really. Actually I’m extremely flattered. I just never expected this as my welcome present. I was expecting more of a meet and greet.” She giggled, “but…this is nice too. Now I don’t have to wonder if you missed me.”

“Days didn’t feel nearly as bright without you.”

Great. Her face might as be as red as her vision. Her heart fluttered each step they took until they finally walked into the modest home Kazuha made form himself. It was obvious he had found interest in Liyue aesthetic, except a fireplace in the living room that felt slightly out of place, yet cozy nonetheless.

Yoimiya turned around to close the door behind her. The sudden feeling of Kazuha’s arms wrapping around her waist gave her a jolt. The young man held her close and Yoimiya could feel the heat from his face tickle her back as he pressed his head against it.

“Forgive me, but it’s hard to control myself. It’s…been quite some time, hasn’t it?

“Yeah, it has.” She could feel his lips kiss her nape, grazing her neck and nipping on pale flesh until a red mark was left behind. Yoimiya closed her eyes and exposed more of her neck for him to have, gasping from contact. She leaned forward slightly, pushing her butt against his pelvis for friction. Her left breast was soon claimed right after, his fingers slipping through the bindings.

“Mmmm Kazuha~” Another moan escaped her when Kazuha’s other hand made its way under her yukata, making short work of those bindings as well. The flustered pyro bit her lip when she felt two digits slip inside. Yoimiya braced her arms against the door while she let her lover take control.

Kazuha could feel her grip around his fingers and he ran them over her most sensitive spots. “To think you’re already this wet?”

“I missed you too ya know!?” She blurted out, blushing at her confession. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Bend over more for me.”

Yoimiya did just that. Straight forward Kazuha was something she didn’t know she needed in her life. He removed his fingers from her body and bunched up her clothes. Her face grew hotter feeling the bindings on her fall off her, exposing her body. Fingers gripped her plump rear and the chill of one running down her slit would’ve made her yelp if it wasn’t for what happened next. The heat of Kazuha’s breath.

“Kazuha? What- Aaah!”

He slipped his tongue inside her dripping core, lapping up her essence and getting lost in her scent. Both his hands help support her legs as they trembled from his assault. The sound of her moans only spurred him to completely devour her.

“KAZUHA!!” She yelled, moaning heavily. She could feel his tongue flatten out and swirl around to rake every spot. “I-I said no teasing!” His fingers dug into her damp thighs as he continued to eat her out. Yoimiya’s body instinctively bent over more to allow him deeper reach. Her moans turned to panting. Kazuha wasn’t gonna let her go. The sound of her own arousal and his dramatic slurping noises only turned her on more like he knew it would.

Yoimiya dropped her head and look to the floor. That’s when she caught sight of Kazuha’s position, on his knees and his length already freed. The member was already hard and dripping precum in anticipation. Was it always that big? In a few short moments, that was going to be…just thinking about it made her mind go blank and body tense.

Her first orgasm hit hard, making her scream as Kazuha continued tasting the wave of pleasure that came with her orgasm, until he licked up the majority. Kazuha stood up, wiping his face and catching his breath as he admired the sight of Yoimiya trembling and still bent over. Her skin had gotten redder and a thin layer of sweat had started.

“You’re so gorgeous…”

“Shut up. I don’t wanna hear that while I’m this.” She muttered. Yoimiya felt embarrassed enough to just die! They’ve been intimate before, but knowing Kazuha was seeing her like this was always going to be too much to handle.

“Do you wanna stay like that?”

She nodded, “looking at you right now would be too much.”

Kazuha could see the tips of her ears turn bright red. He wanted to listen, but found himself denying the mercy.

Yoimiya was ready for him to continue until she felt felt his hand on her chest raise her up enough for his face to come over her right shoulder. Yet again the girl was speechless upon staring into his eyes and seeing his playful smirk.

“I missed all of you. That includes your eyes.” Not holding back, Kazuha captured her lips.

Yoimiya felt her heart pound and head go into a haze. She openly invited his mouth to conquer her own. Not like she was really using it right now anyways. The heat of his member pressed against her entrance and with a few hip movements, slipped inside. Yoimiya whimpered from the feeling of being spread open so quickly. Kazuha’s hips begin smacking against her rear. Whimpers turned to yelps between the patient kiss. How long had it been since she felt full? Was Kazuha always this warm? Was his grasp on her this good? All these things made Yoimiya kiss him harder, wanting him to continue this assertiveness.

Kazuha was in no better shape. Distance had only strengthened their yearning. Kazuha added his own gasps and grown into the mix. Yoimiya had a grip on him that made his hips move on their own. The heat and wetness of her core made him ache in the best way. Their lips parted to only paint and whisper sweet nothings as their bodies gave into pleasure.

“Kazu~ more…more~”

“You’re everything when you beg like this.”

“Mmmph~ meanie. I-aahh…want another kiss.”

Kazuha obeyed, giving her what she craved without question. Yoimiya was always cute, but the blush across her face brought it to another level. Kazuha could only be weak to it.

“Yoi, I’m…”

“Me too.” She gasped, reaching the end of her rope. Yoimiya stole another, longer kiss; moaning heavily as she came.

Kazuha could only thrust a few more times before her tightness overwhelmed him. He gave one last thrust, cumming inside her. He pulled from the kiss to let her breathe while he peppered her ear with kisses.

Yoimiya’s entire body shuttered upon feeling his warmth shoot inside. The little nips and pecks Kazuha gave her made her giggle, putting a smile on het face as she continued to catch her breath.

“Kazu, that tickles hehe.”

“Now how am I supposed to stop with you calling me that, Yoi?” He teased, continued his kisses. He slowly lowered both of them down to the floor. Yoimiya held his face and the two were finally face to face properly. He smiled at the girl who smiled back with kind eyes and a pinkish red blush. “Your face is more beautiful than any sunset.”

Yoimiya couldn’t help but avert her gaze briefly before staring back. “It’s dangerous to spoil a girl with talk like that. Especially after what we just did.”

“Heh, I can’t name a moment more perfect to spoil someone than this.” Kazuha kissed her forehead. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Glad to be here.” She put her arms over shoulders and around his neck. “More kisses please.” Her heart danced so much Yoimiya thought she was at a fireworks festival. “Let’s love each other here a little longer.”

xxxxx

“Hello everyone, I’m Yoimiya!” She said to her new teammates, placing her hands on her hips and glowing like the sun; her time with Kazuha only adding to her radiance.

Many waved happily upon her entrance, while I few people like Aether, Beidou, and even Hu Tao noticed the marks on Yoimiya’s neck. They looked at Kazuha with a cheeky grin he did his best to ignore, but even laid back samurai couldn’t help but smile sheepishly.

#genshin impact #kazuha kaedehara #yoimiya naganohara

39 notes · View notes

haloshornsinkstains · 3 years

Text

Indulge Me A Little?

Mouri Motonari x F!reader

Something of a sequel to "And What if I Bite Back?” though you don’t need to read that to understand this, they’re both just excuses for me to write smut about a sexy pirate lord.

Motonari is a bit out of character, it’s hard to write smut for someone who hates touch, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

CW: NSFW (PWP), female reader, mentions of kidnapping, writer getting carried away with pirate talk

“I can’t tell if yer brave or just real stupid Princess.” The chatelaine just shrugs and smiles, biting back a giggle at the mixture of expressions that flickered across his face. It only serves to deepen Motonari’s scowl, people he glares at do not smile in response. They cower in fear and run for their lives. But the Oda princess is a different breed altogether, just as sweet and wicked as she had been the first time he ran into her. “I thought you had some fabrics to show me.” She chuckles, nodding her head towards the cloth behind him. “If ya believe that was my meaning then yer more of a fool than I thought.” The princess merely shakes her head. “Oh no, I know exactly what you meant. But I also know you’ve brought some truly stunning fabrics into Azuchi with you before, indulge me a little?” Her smile is a little softer this time, eyes flickering between his face and the fabrics behind him, though she doesn’t make a move to get any closer until he sighs and nods. “Merda. Go ahead m’lady, but there’s plenty of better things we could be doing.” He grumbled, staring down at her as the Oda princess bent to look at the fabrics. She hummed. “Oh, don’t worry, we have all day to do better things.” “Then perhaps I might have some fabric on m’ship you’d like to see.” At that her head whipped up, narrowing her eyes at his sly grin, one hand reaching towards her obi. Motonari merely scoffed. “Stop it with that that face m’lady. If I wanted to kidnap ya I’d have had you tied up and shoved in the hold a long time ago.” Her eyebrows pulled together at his words, a soft sigh leaving her lips. “Wow, you really know how to inspire trust.” “Don’t need trust to bed you m’lady.” He chuckles. “Ya didn’t trust me last time now did you?” She hums thoughtfully, “I trusted you enough.” “Then yer head must be full of flowers. You remember I’m the Oda’s enemy right m’lady?” “You’d be surprised how many enemies of the Oda I talk to,” she laughed “and it’s not like I have enough brainpower to tell you any secret tactics when we’re together, nor are you particularly threatening the Oda at present. Unless your idea of a threat is outselling the local fabric traders. I don’t see the problem, unless you really do plan on kidnapping me.” “Not when yer guard dogs are expecting you back Princess. More trouble than it’s worth to have that silver kitsune chasing after me.” Motonari scoffed, motioning with his head towards the street. “Now, d’ya want to see these fabrics?” The chatelaine laughed, nodding her head and gesturing towards him. “Lead the way, Captain.” If she saw the subtle shiver that ran through him at that name, she was kind enough not to mention it as Motonari lead her towards the ship he called his own.

The Oda Princess’ arrival on the ship sparked a ripple of excitement among Motonari’s crew, several of the men on deck turning dark smiles towards her. The Princess shifted slightly, letting Motonari’s body sheild most of hers from their hungry eyes. “You finally captured the Devil’s woman Lord Motonari!” “Aye Captain! Want us to tie her up and throw her in the brig for ya?” Motonari bristled, throwing a glare in their direction that would send lesser men running for the hills. “Any part o’you touches her an’ I’ll be removing it from yer body, savvy? The Princess is my guest.” Ripples of dissent ran through the assembled crew, but one sharp look from their Captain was enough to quiet them before his blood red gaze turned back to the woman beside him. “This way m’lady.” “I didn’t know you could cook.” She grinned, pointing at the small kitchen built into the Captain’s quarters. “Any other skills you’d been hiding from me?” Motonari grumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘I ain’t hidin’’ and gestured towards some fabrics in the corner. “Planned t’get something made with ‘em anyway.” The chatelaine grinned, rushing over to inspect the fine western cloth, her eyes alight with happiness. “Oh, these are beautiful! What were you planning to do with them?” “I dunno yet.” Motonari shrugged. “I thought you were some kind of seamstress?” “Would you like me to make you something?” Her eyes, when she turned back to look at him, were so wide and full of hopeful joy Motonari nearly burst into laughter. Instead he managed a stiff nod, and got a bright smile in return. “I’ll make something wonderful.” “Yeah, yeah. You plannin’ to waste all your time looking at pretty fabric?” She hums, staring at the fabric for a few more seconds before her gaze flits back to him, soft smile sharpening into something more wicked. Enchantress might not be too far from the truth, if the way her eyes drew him in was any indication. But she didn’t move towards him, instead fixing him with those sparkling eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. “Ya gonna make me wait all day?” He growled. “You could have just asked. Or made me.” She huffed, pushing back to her feet and taking a few steps towards him. “I aint in the habit of forcing women into anythin’.” She laughs and shakes her head, eyes fixed on the blood red of his. “Oh, you wouldn’t be forcing me into anything. I wouldn’t do anything I wasn’t more than happy to do, you should know that much at least.” What little patience Motonari had left finally snapped. “Will you stop yappin’ and use that pretty mouth of yours for something better already!” With a smile she finally closes the gap between them, leaning forward so her breath brushes over his lips. “That wasn’t so hard now was it?” He didn’t answer, instead grabbing the collar of her kimono and pulling her lips into his. He could feel the way her lips quirked up against his kiss for a few brief seconds before those lips parted to let his tongue brush over hers. His hands left her collar, reaching down to pull her against him, her hips grinding into his as they kissed, his hand gripping the flesh of her ass. She whimpered, fisting one hand in the fabric of his cape as if it were the only thing keeping her standing.

“Where’s that smart tongue o’yours m’lady?” He chuckled, pulling back. “One kiss and all yer fancy words desert ya?” It took a few moments for her eyes to come back into focus, but once they did he saw her brows furrow, the smallest of pouts pulling at her lips. “Well, if you weren’t so skilled with your tongue maybe I’d stand a better chance.” She huffed, before her gaze sharpened, lips pulling into a sly smirk. “But if you really want to see a clever tongue, I’d be more than happy to show you.” "Oh?" His smirk was just the right side of predatory, eyes sparkling and pupils blown. "Well I ain't gonna stop you m'lady." With one last soft press of her lips to his she sunk down to her knees, slowly undoing his trousers. Each motion followed by a pause, time for him to stop her, but his patience was wearing thin and it took little more than a quiet growl to encourage her to hurry up. In the time it has taken her to undo the first two buttons on his trousers, she had them pushed down around his thighs, her hand gently wrapped around his length. Pausing she looked up at him, and despite the position, and all the filthy things he knew she was capable of, from this position she looked all doe-eyed and innocent. It made him want to ruin her. "That all ya got princess?" She didn't rise to his taunting, only smiling for a brief moment before she dipped her head to wrap her lips around him. Her eyes flicked up momentarily, just long enough to catch the brief flicker in his cocky smirk, before she started to bob her head. She revelled in the sharp hiss of breath between his teeth every time he pressed against the back of her throat. The strangled noise he made when she swallowed around him. His hand found its way into her hair, fisting in the strands as he followed the back and forth movement of her head. Just as she was starting to feel him twitching against her tongue his grip tightened, tugging her off him with a lewd pop. “Porra, can’t have the party finishing too early.” He muttered, nodding his head towards the bed. “Unless ya want me to take you on the floor m’lady, I’d get moving.”

The Princess hummed thoughtfully, as if she were truly considering letting him have his way with her there on the floor of his cabin, before slowly rising to her feet and making her way towards the bed. She slipped her kimono off as she walked, exposing the smooth planes of her shoulders and back, finally letting it fall into a pool at her feet beside the bed. She turned back to look at him, settling herself on the side of the bed so she could watch as he undressed. “You’re staring Princess.” “It’s a very nice view.” She hummed, not taking her eyes of him despite the warmth of her cheeks. He snorted and shook his head. “There are much better things we can be doing.” “Hard to do with you all the way over-” Motonari crossed the room before she could finish, pressing her down into the sheets with the weight of his body. One large hand grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. Her back arched ever so slightly into his touch, hips pressing against his. “I aint going to be gentle with ya m’lady.” He warned, face hovering just above hers. “Not after that little show.” She tilted her head up, leaving the barest brush of her lips against his. “Perhaps I don’t want you to be.” He didn’t speak, instead focusing on pressing himself inside her. Holding still when he felt her tighten around him, his name a soft moan on her lips. He stayed like that for a while, hovering over her and willing his body to calm down, at least until she started to squirm beneath him, rocking her hips up against his in a desperate attempt to chase some friction. With a dry chuckle he started to move, reslishing the way her expression twisted, mouth falling open on a gasp as her hands flexed in his grasp. Straining against him in an unconscious effort to reach out and touch. He could feel the flex of her thighs against his sides, the way her walls pulled him deeper with every stroke. "Ah, so ya do like it when I'm rough with you m'lady." Motonari smirked, pulling back a little to study her face. The Princess nodded vigorously, eyes so blown and glazed over it was a wonder she even understood him. "Yes. Yes, please! I… I'm so clo- so close. Please don't stop." The words were breathy, slightly slurred with pleasure, but the way she desperately tried to rock her hips against his told him all he needed to know. His hips snapped forwards, free arm pushing one of her legs to the side to let him push deeper. He felt her tensing more under him with each thrust, her breath coming in sharp pants between each moan and scrambled cries of his name. When she finally reached her peak he nearly stopped his movements altogether, sharp eyes drinking in everything about her expression in that moment, memorizing the feel of her walls contracting around him, how her chest looked with her body arched against the sheets, the trembling of her legs around him. He barely managed to pull out in time to spill across her stomach, eyes still fixed on the blissful look on her face when he did.

Some time later, when both of their breathing was even and the princess had cleaned and dressed once more, Motonari shoved the pile of fine fabric into her arms. “Here y’are m’lady, I’ll expect something good.” He grumbled, trying not to focus on the way her eyes lit up at the fine work all over again. “Thank you! I promise I’ll make something amazing! Hmm… what’s this?” She adjusted the fabric, gently lifting a small cloth pouch from the top of the pile and holding it up to inspect. “Nothing really, now come on m’lady. I’ll take you back to town before those guard dogs of yers come yappin’ at my heels.” He pushed open the door to his cabin, gesturing for her to start moving. With a sigh the princess re-adjusted the bundle of cloth and made her way out, ignoring the calls of the crew as she made her way back out on deck. One sharp glare from the captain silenced them, the softly murmured thanks from the woman beside him going ignored. He escorted her all the way back into the markets, neither spoke much, but the silence was comfortable. Once they reached the markets she turned and offered him a bow, the formality of the gesture made him snort given she’d been in his bed less than an hour before. Turning his back to her, he threw a casual wave over his shoulder, turning his head slightly to call back to her. “I’ll be back for whatever you make me in a few weeks. I’m expecting something good m’lady.”

#halo.writes #halo.afterdark #Mouri Motonari #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen motonari #motonari x reader

51 notes · View notes