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pastelgrungewrecker · 1 year

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Full House Hand || Sg Ish

I hope you find Some peace of mind In this lifetime.

It had been two weeks since Perceptor had broken the glass wall in Stormy’s spirit. It had been six days since Stormy had curled into himself and dropped to his knees with the kind of air-tearing scream you only hear from air raid sirens at the end of the world.

Nana did her best, soothing his hurts with every remedy she could but when the blackrot began she couldn’t help but feel the fear of God lay a hand upon her soul.

Percy explained the happenings with a cygarette between too-sharp teeth; barely restraining a special kind of rage as his own body reflected the panic and anger he felt burning deep down.

‘It’s the network he’s built. Stardust is... infected, as well. But she is far, far closer to symbiosis given her exposure was in the womb. However...’

The smoke is silver like the streak forming in his hair.

‘She is being hurt. And because they are connected- he is living through it too.’

Aurora took her steps unsteadily out of Ironhide’s old truck- the vehicle outfitted with scrap steel plating like a makeshift tank and she carefully balanced the medical supplies she had been able to liberate with the help of Ironhide’s pistol.

Her eyes softened, “We’ve only studied a little of the mycomutagen, thanks to Percy and Perceptor’s donations. But I still don’t know very much- I was brought on during the enzyme discovery.”

“Enzyme discovery?”, asked Brainstorm hoarsely, rubbing sleep out of his eyes carefully so as not to smear oil from modifying every vehicle they could find for war, “What enzyme discovery?”

“It’s a by product of the mycomutagen.”, she explained gently, “We think it’s to protect the brain of the infected organism from other possible parasitic attacks, and perhaps even to shore it up against damage from MTBI or TBI.”

“So what does that mean?”

She sighed, “Xaaron he... For some reason when it was discovered he demanded I be brought on; it turns out this enzyme compound has many uses but one specific application is what he had me throw my entire being into.”

“..And that was?”

“Mnemo reversal treatment.”

The silence was palpable, heavy in the air and broken only by a weak groan from the room Stormy was being kept in. The air seemed to crack like uranium glass- scattering its neon shards as Brainstorm clattered haphazardly to drop in front of the minicomm system and frantically began punching in commands. The screen chimed to life, and a face none of them recognized showed itself.

“Hello, you’ve reached the estate of the Honorable Crown Xaaron, how may I assist you.”, were the robotic words of the AI assistant, “He is currently unavailable, please do not hesitate to state any needs you may have and I will be sure they are delivered upon his return.”

“Xaaron Location, current.”

“I am sorry. That is Classified.”

“Xaaron agenda, previous twenty four hours.”

“I am sorry, that is classified.”

“This is Brainstorm, this is his fucking SON where is my FATHER-”

“Hello Brainstorm, you have a video message to be delivered upon your first contact of this commline. Would you like to view it now?”

“Yes, play messaage-”

The screen flickered, the feed clear and calm and dim and Xaaron sat with his hands folded together like he always did. His eyes were downturned- the tattoos on his jaw that matched his son still crisp even in low light.

��I am not a saint, my son.”, the recording whispers, “And I have told you so, so many lies. And here, at the end of the world; I have many things to confess.”

Aurora felt her spine seem to freeze- both Perceptors seemed to appear to stand at either side of Brainstorm as the recorded message continued.

“Your mother...”

A softly choked noise.

“I have been... I am a vile bastard, you were right. I had been paying to keep her at the facility you and your twin had visited- keeping her sedated. Calm. Because the sound of her crying broke the last pieces of a heart I had. But... But then these doubles... And the mycological marvel many of them carried arrived.”

Xaaron did not smile.

“The physical I told you and your double you needed was not necessary, nor was it run of the mill. I had them draw blood from you both- we had discovered a specific compound three days previous and there was. There was a chance. A chance I owed it to my family to take. To your mother.”

The man in the recording hiccuped softly, lips trembling and his bright gold eyes squeezing shut as tears leaked from them.

“To. To you. I owed it to you- To bring her back to us all. Especially now at the end of a world that never loved you, that never held you close. A world where you never knew my shore, my ocean- Never knew her sky, her mountains. Once this recording has finished- You will be sent data by the AI assistant I have installed and modified. Tracking. Information.”

Xaaron swallowed the break in his voice, “And with that- you and your twin will. You will be able to trace each other; with the proximity comm scanners. Perceptor still carries his from the Wreckers, he hides it in a boot locker. Anyone matching the DNA markers or specific mycomarkers will be able to be traced.”

Xaaron stared with his tears free and his face tired, “Find my granddaughter. Save your family. And I will see you if I am able to save ours. Please, my little warrior- my wild sun; Through all my mistakes I have made, you were never one of them.”

He swallowed hard, and leaned back as though checking something off screen to show his lack of uniform, before he breathed deep once.

“Never forget, Brainstorm- I love you, and I love the ones who love you. If I do not make it back- If WE do not make it back, know that we have always loved you... And we are sorry we couldn’t or wouldn’t be there before.”

He smiles weakly at the camera, leaning forward enough to mimic touching his forehead to Brainstorm’s and he exhaled quietly. And Brainstorm, unbidden- followed suit as his heart broke.

The recording ended.

“Hello, this is the assistant to Crown Xaaron.”, chimed the AI voice again, “I am initiating a datadrop to the traced address of this call. Once this data download has completed, I will then be initiating a full scale facility shutdown after uploading all conserved facility data to drop serve Theta.”

“WHAT, WHY-”

“This facility was breached four hours, nineteen minutes, and eighty seven seconds ago. For the protection of all, this must be done.”

The flicker of a flashdrop, the connection buffered no doubt from the facility’s own satellites and technology.

“Data download complete. Upload and sitekill initiated. Thank you for being with Kimia until the end, Science Quadrant A Supervisor Brainstorm.”

The AI’s digital face smiled before a hideous technological screech bellowed out through the speakers and the line went dead- the screen flashing [CALL TERMINATED] at the same tempo as a funeral bells chime.

“No, no no no no no-”, stammered Brainstorm as his fingers moved furiously over the plastiglass trying to reactivate the connection, “No, no please come one this can’t- not like this we already lost Stardust and we lost Pulsar I can’t I CAN’T LOSE YOU TOO DAD THERES’S-THERE’S STILL SO MUCH TO CATHC UP ON AND-”

“Brainstorm.”, whispered Percy, “Darling, please it’s. It’ll be alright. It’s going to alright, he’s a strong man, he was a fighter once too-”

“No no no no no no please no please no no no I can’t I can’t not anymore I’m gonna lose- lose everything all over and then me and double are gonna be alone and we can’t- I don’t I can’t say goodbye and mean it not if it means forever and ever no-”

Perceptor had spirited away, coming back with the handheld and connecting it to the minicomm with no words and his scars underlit by the tiny screen.

“Per- Percy how can you just be CALM how dare you NOT EVEN FUCKING REACT HE’S-”

And then the sniper’s hands were cupping Brainstorm’s face, stroking thumbs over the inkwork lines as his voice sounded in softness.

“Ssssssh, honeybee. Calm your thunder, hurricane.”, he soothed, “I will bring him home, do you understand me? Focus on my hands, now- The tracker is uploading and will integrate upon completion- and then I and my double will go out there and we will bring them home, to you, and no one and nothing will be lost.”

“But HOW-”

“He shares your DNA- or, more accurately... you share his. If you can be tracked, so can he.”

Brainstorm paused.

“Now- go to your double. Tell him what we know. Tell him what I have said. Give him and Aid my love, and my double’s. I’ll be back by teatime.”

“Y-You fucking... prep school boy.”, said Brainstorm through the tears he hadn’t realized had fallen and clogged his throat and soul, “It’s n-nearly dinner. Dork.”

“Same difference. I’ll be back in a tick, love.”

The handheld pinged loudly, chirruping as it began its trace and Perceptor looked to his double with a nod.

Aurora watched her boy- her boys, gather each rifle case as they passed by to the door before she stopped them. She reached out; her arms thin and tired and her eyes crinkled at the edges and pulled them both into a hug made of steel and cotton linen as she kissed each of their temples.

“You both better come back home to me, do you understand me?”, she whispered, “If anyone touches a hair on your, or their, heads I swear I’ll go off my rocker for the last time, dammit.”

“We know Mumma.”, chuckled Percy, “But to come home we must away first. We’ll see you soon.”

Nana crept up behind Aurora, putting a hand on her friend’s shoulder as they watched the pair go down the front steps and jog to the near-graveyard of vehicles being modified by Ironhide.

The rumble of an engine was loud- even as it drifted away.

Lock watched from the old peach tree in the yard. Both the Ratchet’s watched from the reinforced barn as the younger family members bustled back and forth from weapons stockpile to gear and back again.

Perceptor floored it as soon as they left the edge of the property- his double crossing his legs primly and worrying his lips with fangs before Perceptor looked to him.

“...So. What aren’t you telling us.”

“Their mother won’t be part of the network- it’s not a true infection, just microdosing a protective excretion so-”

“You’re dodging.”

“Stormy is showing signs of torture.”, murmured the vampiric double, “A specific kind of torture- no, not really torture thought it feels like it.”

“Continue.”

“Have I ever told you why my mother wasn’t exactly present?”

“I assumed it was much like your Ratchet- an attack by your zealot false god.”

“She tried to kill me to win a weapons contract bid.”

The air grew still as Perceptor’s eye flicked to glance at his double before focusing back on the road.

“I was still in regular contact with her- through everything.”, continued Percy, “And she was the first one I told about. About the infection. and she said she just wanted to check me over. Make sure I was alright.”

“...She lied, didn’t she.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

“She did. One minute I’m having a cup of coffee with my mother as she fixes my hair, the next minute I’m strapped up in some hellish machine. It took two weeks- two weeks to get the strength to do what I needed to, and in that time she’d already been selling scraps and bundles of her research to the highest bidder- and there is only one man who would have been able to get every last scrap of it after she was gone.”

“Your Optimus?”

“Prowl.”

The name sat in the air, turning it toxic and rancid like a miasma and the only sound was the handheld’s chime. The sun was setting- the darkness tucking around them as the fields gave way to thickets and finally full woods full of death and life and secrets unknowable and whispered only by the owls and rock doves.

Suddenly, the tracker went berserk. The location pinged a thousand different directions and sudden gunfire began to sound- the flashes disorienting and forcing Perceptor to swerve hard enough to topple the modified truck he steered. They slid- the bottom of the vehicle slamming an old tree trunk and bending at the joint between cab and bed.

Both snipers had braced- keeping their good eye shut and staying silent until the gunfire stopped.

“Turrets.”

“Oh absolutely, precious. You want them, or should I take them?”

“I think you’d do well on the ground double-”, gritted Perceptor as he forced the seatbelt latch to release with a hard yank, “How long has it been since you’ve had brunch with the devil?”

“Oh ages, darling.”, giggled Percy, swallowing hard before he stretched his jaw to show fangs like a spider’s, “Abso-fucking-lutely AGES...”

“I’ll be your cover, let’s book it.”

Perceptor slithered out on his belly, reaching back in to grab his rifle case and giving his double a nod before he crawled into the ditch they had skidded to a stop next to. And with a mad cackle and pistols in hand, Percy rocketed out of the wreckage and unleashed his assault.

It was a squad of fifteen- he could smell their infestation, smell its inferiority, how it had starved so desperately and barely held them up on their feet.

Fangs bared and jawbone clicking as his false mandible spread just a little he fell upon them with gunfire and voracious hunger- they scattered near immediately and screamed their anguish when they were shot down from the shadows but never fatally.

How merciful it would be, for the hidden gunner to allow them to die with dignity and limbs still attached.

Perceptor looked away whenever his double fell upon a new victim, instead focusing his reticule on knees and the middle of spines- chuckling to himself at the ones that wore thicker belts like that could save their skin from a disabling shot between the vertebrae. The remaining victims, all four of them, surrounded what they had been protecting- a downed transport shuttle, looked civilian by make and model but showed the signs of attempts to break into it. It looked as though the engine had been shoot own and it had gone down hard enough to bury the nose a few feet into the ground.

They raised their weapons- Percy stood tall and wild with eyes like a baphomet statue and pistols aimed as Perceptor slunk free of his hiding spot like Eden’s serpent crawling free from his guise to reveal the devil himself.

“Stand down. This is your only chance to survive.”, he said, his voice like ice.

“For a gentle use of the word SURVIVE, darlings.”, laughed Percy, his head tilting as he licked a thick smear of gore from his own chin.

They both saw as the remaining one braced as though about to fire, and they struck.

It was over in moments. Perceptor scoffed in disappointment.

“This is the best your false god has, then?”

“Numbers have been down for quite some time, double-dear. Happens when your leader kills all dissenters but counts yawning as dissention.”

The crack of a wrist being snapped hard enough for skin to tear, and Perceptor grimaced- knowing his double was no doubt draining the body while it was still warm.

“Hurry up, would you- We need to bust into this shuttle.”

“Yesh, yesh- Wumoment.”

“You really are the foulest little house spider sometimes.”

“Oh, like there’s nothing you swallow sloppily in this world, right.”

“SHUT IT.”, snapped Perceptor, trying not to snicker at the lewd humor before he stepped over the dead to inspect the door before it thudded.

It groaned before haphazardly sliding open and a soft hand held the edge tightly. Crips eyes, eyes like Brainstorm’s when furious but the wrong color, stared back out.

“...Madame, I am here to save Xaaron and one other. I am Perceptor.”, he said gently, kneeling down.

“Ah, his sniper in law.”, she said, her vice carrying the husk of grand speeches and heavy woe, “He’s taken a hit to the head when he was trying to lock down the shuttle against those. Things. They pulled up in some kind of weird tank I think, pretty sure they shot us down.”

Percy raised his eyebrows, threading his fingers together, “Fabulous sweetheart- could you do me a teensy favor and perhaps tell me where they no doubt illegally parked? They managed to wreck our ride as well.”

Her hand released the door edge, and pointed to an overgrowth of kudzu-like leafy vines a bit farther from the side of the road. Both snipers nodded at each other before Perceptor heard a grunt and a low groan from inside the shuttle.

“Sir!”

==========================================================

Brainstorm sat next to Stormy- who’s face was pale as the rising dawn outside the window- and sighed.

“...Dad left Kimia before it got. Got raided. By the other side.”, he said quietly, “...He lied about the physical, got our blood and-”

“I know.”, rasped the industrialist, leaning gently back, “I know how physicals work, and he had a terrible firewall protecting his internal memorandums.”

“Thanks for keeping me in the loop, dude.”

“The ends justified the means.”, was the woozy reply, “We’d... We’d have mom.”

“Yeah, well. Turns out- the funky fresh backpacker in your flesh pajamas? It can be traced.”

Stormy’s head whipped around to look at Brainstorm faster than a lightning strike, “What?!”

“Yeah. Yeah- he developed a DNA trace through it. We’ll be able to find Stardust, and where those pieces of shit are hiding. Hit them with a surprise assault I’d imagine.”, said Brainstorm softly, running his shaking hands through his white hair, “A-And that’s good, great even but-”

“...But what, copycat?”

“...Xaaron went out, alone, to get Mom.”, he whispered, “He left a message, he told me everything- and he said he loved us, and he said he’d try and bring her home but if. If he didn’t. For us t-to know th-that. That-”

Brainstorm froze at the warmth. He blinked eyes already overflowing with tears again as arms encased in elbow length reinforced gloves went around his shoulders in a tight hug.

“He’ll be back.”, said Stormy, trying desperately to be sure and knowing he was failing, “He has to be, remember? He. He promised he’d be there at Christmas for Stardust th-this year.”

Wet warmth on Brainstorm’s shoulder and he bit his lip to silence the sobs that wanted to sound and returned the embrace. They cried in silence, as the sun rose behind a screen of overcast and they rocked back and forth- twins curled in utero, comforting themselves with old heartbeats they still can’t recognize.

The rumble cut through the morning like a knife- they both looked out and saw the heavy machine trundling like an oncoming thunderhead up the dirt road and they looked at each other in sudden panic. In rage.

They tore out, followed by most of the family as they all feared the worst as it drew ever closer and closer before suddenly its massive engine cut off in a loud stall.

“Damn thing is held together with fucking DUCT TAPE AND PRAYERS GODDAMIT-”

“Honestly, doublemine- your language is ATROCIOUS-”

“It’s HONEST you incessant TWAT.”

“Relax, professor Bitch.”

“Young men.”

“Apologies.”

“Sorry about that, Mister Judge.”

The conversation echoing from behind tinted windows faded. The massive vehicle’s back end unfolded itself open- and a collection of slow steps sounded and gentle hushed words as those footsteps hit the autumn grass in a steady rhythm.

Xaaron squinted at the daylight, a butterfly bandage over a bright wound over his eye while the other was ringed in a bruise as Perceptor and his double led him and the weight he carried into the chilled air.

He blinked, sore from injury and guilt before he turned enough to see Brainstorm and Stormy- his smile was tired and proud and he straightened a back that both the snipers knew ached from the shuttle crash before they fell back, letting Xaaron take his final steps alone.

“Hello, my sons.”, he said- the rumble of his voice heavy as the weight he finally could unhook from the hinges of his heart, “I am. Home. I am home, and... And so is she.”

She raises her head just enough; worn out from the ordeal she had just survived, she waves weakly and smiles crooked in the way Brainstorm always had before she laughs softly and gestures with her thin hands.

“My boys- My boys, come here. Come here and give me a hug- I’ve just had the worst time of things.”

Xaaron lets her gently alight on still socked feet, her robe wrapped near perfectly around her thanks to Percy’s ministrations during the ride over and she opens her arms wide.

Brainstorm and Stormy try to stand straight, and dignified-

“Once you get some time with your mum,”, said Percy as he skirted around the rescued woman, “Then we’ll get started on bringing her granddaughter home.”

“Granddaughter?”, she gasps, glancing over her shoulder at Xaaron.

“Yes, her name is Stardust.”

Brainstorm and Stormy are still trembling, blinking owlishly in the morning light before Nana calls out.

“Oi now! Bring that lady on inside dammit- y’all gonna free- WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, I KNOW YOU!”

The woman looks up, “Ah. Madame Doctor Valerian. Delightful.”

“Senator Caecias, truly I’m charmed. Ain’t you banned from these parts.”

“Well, with the world ending, my sons being here and me not having much CHOICE-”

“Yeah, yeah. Boys, bring your mama on in, I’ll see if Aurora has anythin’ she can wear. Both’f them are tiny as hell anyway...”

It was hearing Nana call Caesias their mother that broke them. Both of them surged forward and flung themselves onto her willowy frame with broken sobs shattering free from birdbone ribcages and she laughed though her tears had begun when she felt their arms wrap around her.

She held their heads to her chest, shushing their cries even as all three sank down to kneel in dewy grass.

Inside the assault vehicle that had been liberated- the handheld flared to life briefly and chimed out.

Somewhere, away from the reunion- Stardust had closed her golden eyes as a CR chamber’s door clicked shut; and the tracker so far away from her chimed as she opened them once again; and they were underlit in vicious and voracious crimson.

#pastelwrites #shatteredgalss #lmao crim is going to snap my spine like a mortal kombat finisher move

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heartsickelf · 2 months

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Your Mother Loved You (Chapter 5)

Summary:

Legolas' inner turmoil begins to expose itself as he struggles to maintain face to those who know him best. Achieving part one of his plan has given the young elven prince a new purpose as he sets things in motion to look upon his late mother once more. Will he go too far, beyond the point of no return, leaving his father behind?

Notes:

This chapter was extremely difficult to write. I found myself holding my breath many times as I allowed the story to pour out of my mind. It's a very emotionally charged chapter with many stressful parts occurring around our hurting and grieving prince. If this chapter resonated with you or left a mark on your heart, please feel free to leave a comment. It would mean the world xx

CHAPTER 5

After an exhausting day of attending various meetings, the King was ready to have a few well-earnt moments of rest before this evening's meal was served. He’d be eating in the dining hall this evening with his kingdom. Since the passing of the Queen, the King would occasionally dine with the people he served as a way to maintain a connection and provide them with confidence in his presence. The prince always sat beside him at the royal table during these chosen evenings and indulged in hearty conversations with his fellow woodland elves. They provided him with much-needed distractions from the evil that would course through his mind, and it brought his father joy seeing his son engage with the people of the realm. Gaining glimpses into the kind of King Legolas would one day become.

Opening the door to his chambers, Thranduil hung up his royal robe and walked over to the fireplace to momentarily allow the soothing heat to surround him. As he leaned against the mantle and looked into the fire, out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the chalice he had thrown in his distressed state the night prior. The room attendants who were instructed to clean the unsettling scene that Thranduil had made must have missed it. Leaning down and reaching under the chair next to the fireplace, he picked up the chalice and stared at it for a moment, remembering his outburst from the night before. Softly, he brought the cup up to his lips and gave it a small apologetic peck before setting it on top of the mantle above the raging fire.

Thranduil was still holding onto the strength that his wife had provided him in his dream. Although he once again, as what usually happened when he found himself alone, began to feel the sadness build and felt his sorrow moving up his throat, he took solace in the words his wife offered him. Whether he had dreamt the whole encounter, or her spirit had truly visited his tired soul, he was holding onto any connection with her he could find, real or otherwise. Choosing to not yet embrace his sorrow as dinner arrangements were still upon him, from thinking of the dream still fresh in his mind, Thranduil remembered the bottle of medicinal tea he had taken to aid his deep sleep the night before. He walked over to the dresser beside his bed to return it to the cabinet as this type of medicine should not be left out freely and fall into the wrong hands. Being as mature as he was in elf years, this particular batch was made specifically for him as it contained the right dosage of medicinal properties to have the desired effect. If an elf younger than he by a few millennia were to ingest this potent mixture, it would have dire consequences.

Reaching his dresser, the King noticed there was no bottle to be seen. He thought perhaps in his emotional state that he had already returned it to his private cabinet and forgotten the action. Thranduil opened the cabinet door to check his supplies and again was unable to locate the bottle in question. Remembering how little was remaining, he deduced that his attendants had taken the liberty to have the contents refilled during their cleaning of his chambers earlier that morning. Closing the cabinet door, Thranduil walked over to his chair by the fireplace and indulged in a drink of his favorite elvish wine before leaving for dinner.

Legolas was also in his chambers, preparing for the evening’s meal and social event ahead of him. He loathed these evenings, being forced to interact with the people of the realm. Every elf he conversed with, he saw the sadness and pity in their eyes when they looked upon him, the motherless prince. It was exhausting for him to put on the act of feigning interest when he craved his privacy more than anything else. Tonight, that craving was no exception as he had his main objective in the forefront of his mind. He would attend the meal, show his face, and retire early so he could see her, just as his father had the night before.

The prince removed the bottle and the other herbal tea that he had taken from his father’s supply from the pocket of the tunic he had worn that day. He lowered himself to a sitting position on his bed and stared at the glass container within his grasp. For some reason, he couldn’t comprehend there was a slight feeling within him that caused some mild anxiety to rise. He felt it within his stomach as it moved through to his chest, his breathing becoming slightly rapid as he stared at the contents of the bottle he had stolen from the King. A part of him that he wished to ignore knew that this was wrong, dangerous even, without knowing the extent of the danger itself. Legolas was ignorant to the fact that this was not the normal blend of medicinal tea used for the average mature elf, but a powerful blend designed specifically for his father.

Shaking his head and taking a long, deep breath Legolas opened the drawer of the dresser next to his bed and placed both tea variants inside before pushing the drawer back to its original position. Hearing a knock at the entrance to his chambers startled the prince as he quickly gathered his thoughts and moved for the door. It was an attendant informing him that dinner had been served and that the King requested his presence. Not realising how long he had been sitting on his bed contemplating what he was about to do this night, Legolas rushed out to the dining hall to meet his father.

“Ah, there you are!” Thranduil remarked, beaming upon seeing his son approach the royal table. “Legolas, come and sit. I wondered if you had fallen asleep during your momentary respite from your duties.”

“Apologies for my lateness, father. It seems my body required some deep rest from the efforts of today’s hunt.” Legolas lied.

“No apology necessary. Come, eat with me, and enlighten me with details of today’s events.” Thranduil motioned towards the empty seat next to him. Once seated, Legolas regaled his father with specifics of the hunting expedition of the day, making sure to include details of the looks of amazement on the faces of his fellow hunting elves as he performed his trick shots to take down his targets.

“More like showing off if you ask me.” Legolas and Thranduil’s heads turned to the sound of the voice when they noticed Erlan who had bowed his head in respect when the two royal elves glanced his way. Thranduil held Erlan in high esteem due to the friendship between him and his son. The King knew as long as Erlan was around, Legolas would never be alone and would have someone to confide in should he need it when the King wasn’t available.

“It was hardly showing off, Erlan. It was just my natural ability to out-skill you and your hunting party. I cannot help what I am.” Legolas said with a smug look on his face as he pretended to turn his nose up at his friend. The King could not help but laugh at the words of his son. How alike Legolas was to himself during the days of his youth. So wrongfully self-assured and arrogantly confident in his mind. The King wondered if his behaviour had been as bad as Legolas’ at this age and came the conclusion that he was in fact worse. This thought kept a small smile upon the King’s features as he looked at Erlan.

“Well, I’m glad you made time in your busy schedule to out-skill my hunting party, my prince. I'm surprised you showed up at all given your tardiness.” Legolas’ eyes widened at this statement, not knowing how his father would interpret it.

“What is the meaning of your words, young one?” The King asked of Erlan. The elf wasn’t sure how to respond as he looked into the eyes of his friend which were filled with fear, begging the elf to remain quiet.

Feeling as though he was backed into a corner, Erlan tried to respond light-heartedly, “Oh, nothing heinous, my King. It seems our prince simply overslept on his duties this morning. Not to worry, he did eventually catch up to the group to school everyone in the study of fancy archery.” Erlan finished with a nervous smile, picking up that he may have just outed his friend to his father but not knowing how exactly.

“Overslept, you say?” The King responded, looking between his son and the young elf, knowing that this was not the case as Legolas had joined him that day for their morning meal together. Legolas had not looked away from Erlan to glance at his father, a notion not lost on Thranduil. “I see. Well, I will see to it that the prince receives adequate sleep this night, so this tardiness does not become a habit. Thank you, Erlan. You may rejoin your family.” The King politely dismissed the elf, turning gently towards his son to look upon him. Legolas glances at his father from the corner of his eye and looks down slightly.

“Legolas, were you ill after our meal this morning? You seemed well enough” Thranduil queried.

“No, father. I was not ill.” Legolas’ mind was reeling. What could he tell his father of his whereabouts between the morning meal and the hunt for game which the King would believe? “I decided to return to my chambers to await the time to join the hunting party. It seems I got lost within the pages of a book.” Legolas swallowed as he found himself again in the middle of a lie which made him uneasy.

“A book?” Thranduil raised an eyebrow, questioning the legitimacy of the story which his son was articulating. “And which book, pray tell, had the prince of Mirkwood so enamoured that he lost sense of all time and almost missed on participating in one of his favorite pasttimes?”

Thinking fast, Legolas remembered a book passed down to him from his mother. “It was the book given to me as an elfling from Nana. I was reading poems that reminded me of her. The conversation we had this morning, you telling me to embrace her spirit and she will guide me. I needed to feel close to her so I reached for the book and began reading the stories and poems she would read to me in the evenings.” With these words, Legolas’ heart dropped into his stomach as he was overcome with guilt and shame. Guilt for lying twice as that had of course not occurred. He had not touched that book since his mother’s passing out of sheer refusal to acknowledge it due to the pain it would induce; shame for spilling a lie that involved his father’s late wife. “I did not want Erlan to know this personal matter, so I informed him that I had simply overslept”.

Thranduil was taken aback slightly by Legolas’ words. He was not expecting that response but was pleased that their conversation earlier that day had had such a profound impact on his son. For the first time since that tragic night, Thranduil felt that he had finally been able to reach Legolas on a deeper level than just reassurance and encouragement. Taking one of Legolas’ hands into both of his, he gently patted the top of his son’s hand.

“Legolas, you know not how happy this news had made me. I feared that you were content with shutting out all memory of her and I would not entirely blame you. I feel the pain is sometimes too great to bear when thinking about her. But this is good. This is moving in the right direction toward the path of healing. This is what she wants, son. I’m very proud of you.”

Legolas’ heart and mind sunk into a deep pit of contrition. How could he have just done that to his father? Gave him all that false hope with the words of a lie to cover an act so disgraceful as he remembered what he had stolen from the person he loved most in this world. He had not dared look up at his father out of fear of being caught out in his lies. Instead, he gently nodded his head in agreement and quickly turned back to eat his evening meal. He longed to retreat to the safety of his room, hidden from his father’s eyes which were filled with hope and pride which he knew he didn’t deserve.

As the evening was drawing to an end, attendants were making their way around the hall clearing plates and utensils for cleaning.

“One moment.” Thranduil stopped the attendant clearing his plate. Legolas looked up to his father as it was rare he would engage in conversation with the attendants during service.

“Yes, Your Highness? How can I serve?”

“I believe you were one of the two who tended to my chambers this morning before our meal was served. Is that correct?” the King inquired.

“Yes, my Lord. That is correct. Do you take issue with the quality of the service?” the attendant asked nervously.

“No, the quality of your work was acceptable. I just inquire about the bottle of medicinal tea that was left on my dresser at the side of my bed. The one I occasionally use to assist with my rest” Legolas froze upon hearing these words, holding his breath. “I believe it may have been removed by yourself or the other attendant for refilling as the contents were low. Please see that it is restocked and placed in my cabinet by tomorrow evening.” Thranduil dismissed the attendant.

“Yes, my Lord. However, I did observe the bottle of which you speak while carrying out my duties and can assure you I did not remove it. I will ask the other attendant if they took the liberty upon themselves to see it refilled.” The attendant bowed to the King and continued with her immediate duties.

“Are you having issues sleeping, Ada?” Legolas asked as a way to divert the attention away from his guilty face.

“Worry not. It is nothing. A King has much on his mind which at times requires something strong to assist with much-needed rest.” Thranduil responded casually.

“That sounds extremely helpful indeed. I wonder if I could partake in some of this tea on the nights when sleep eludes me.” The prince asked innocently.

“Ah, my son. I understand the appeal, however, as it stands, you are much too young to drink the tea which is made specifically for me. No stronger concoction exists and it is not intended for those young bodies who are still striving for adulthood. The medicinal properties would overwhelm you and I fear place your young form in danger. I do have some herbal blends that you could ingest if you are having issues with your rest.” The King said matter-of-factly.

Feeling a slight sense of disappointment as Legolas briefly thought there was a path he could take which would not require him to lie completely to his father. “Thank you, Ada, but it will not be necessary. I was merely inquiring.”

“Very well then. Should you find yourself in need of assistance and you’re unable to find me, the healers have the herbal teas on hand. Just call upon them and they will provide it.” Thranduil informed Legolas. Legolas immediately wondered if this meant that the healers also had the medicinal tea on hand in the storeroom.

“Thank you, Ada. For now, I bid you goodnight and will see you on the morrow.” Legolas excused himself from the table with his father’s permission and started make his way back to his chambers before he was stopped.

“Legolas, perhaps we could share a moment and look over that book together before you retire for the day. I would very much like to hear the stories your mother so lovingly shared while I was performing my duties back then.” Thranduil suggested.

“Of course, Ada. I would love nothing more. However, this night I feel exhaustion taking over and I must rest lest I become tardy again.” Legolas responded quickly, trying to derail his father’s suggestion with a faint smile.

“I understand, son. Please, take your leave. Another time then.” Thranduil bowed his head subtly to his son to bid him goodnight.

Legolas reached his bed inside his chambers and sat down next to his dresser, quickly taking out the stolen bottle of his father’s tea; the tea which he now knew was made specifically for one of his father’s age and maturity. “Perhaps if I just use a tiny amount, there will be no side effects,” Legolas thought to himself, as he twisted the bottle between his slender fingers.

That pang of anxiety started rising within his stomach again, trying to warn him off this dangerous road. As he felt the anxiety rise, a massive gust of wind rattled his window and momentarily scared the young elf. Shaking his head, he then looked down into the drawer and reached for the herbal blend. Perhaps with how tired he was feeling, taking the herbal tea would administer the same effects as the medicinal tea this night. Looking between the two variants, the prince sighed deeply and fisted his palms before bringing them up to cover his face. He was starting to panic but he needed to see her again. Just once and he felt that one of these options guaranteed her presence over the other.

Looking into the drawer, he placed one of the teas back and closed it. Staring back down at his hand, he slowly turned the lid of the glass bottle and sifted a finger through the loose leaves, taking in the scent. It was potent for sure, and he could smell the medicinal properties. Taking a teaspoon sized amount, Legolas placed the tea into a small strainer before pouring the pre-boiled water he had prepared upon his return this evening into a mug. He let the tea steep for 5 minutes before removing the wet leaves, noticing the medicinal properties had dissolved into the hot water. The aroma alone was enough to send the young elf to sleep, but he knew it wouldn’t be sufficient to send her to him this night. No, he needed to guarantee her presence, so the prince lifted the mug to his lips and gulped the entirety in two large mouthfuls.

Placing the mug on his dresser next to the bottle of tea he had used, Legolas awaited any sensation to indicate that the tea was taking the desired effect, droopy eyes or a heavy head. He wondered how long it would take to enter his system given that it was, according to his father, the strongest concoction within the realm.

Minutes went by and Legolas started to become impatient, not feeling any sensation or any form of tiredness overcoming him. He thought perhaps he hadn’t used enough of the leaves. Reaching over to the bottle, he once again stood to grab more hot water to make another mug but upon rising, he felt lightheaded. Blinking his eyes twice, Legolas tried to regain visual focus of the room around him but found the more he blinked, the more tired he became. He began stumbling over his feet as his world began to spin out of control, making his knees give way and he fell to the ground. Catching his upper body on the side of his bed, he managed to pull himself up from the floor and onto the soft mattress where he began breathing rapidly, unable to open his eyes. His hands forming fists on the blankets of his bed, hoping to feel some sort of physical anchor while his mind made him believe he was suspended in midair.

“Come to me, my beautiful son.”

Legolas tried opening his eyes thinking that his father had just walked in on him in this state.

“Let go. I will keep you safe through this. Come to me.” A gentle voice that he recognised was communicating with the young elf prince. A voice that instantly calmed him and made him give in to the effects of the tea that was working through his system.

“Nana, I go to you. I have missed you so much” Legolas’ body stopped struggling as he allowed his mind to travel to the one place he longed to go. His body cold with sweat from the struggle, lay there almost lifeless on his bed. Legolas’ breathing was extremely shallow as he felt his soul, his fae, begin to depart, seeking the comfort of the only one who could provide it.

“Legolas, you’ve come home”.

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

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Insatiable Series - Ch. 13: Let Me Bless You

Oberyn Martell x OFC Reader "Savia"

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Word Count: 10k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) dirty talk, praise kink, breeding kink, soft Oberyn (we love), possessive Oberyn (we LOVE), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, “period” sex, age gap, motherhood, mentions/descriptions of blood, mentions of death, brief mention of miscarriage.

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Summary: A sudden change in your health prompts more for the future than you had expected, causing many to notice… including the Mother of Dragons.

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A/N: oh my fucking god I forgot how much FUN it is to write for this series holy shit!!!

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When you first arrived in Dorne, it was paradise. In every sense of the word, this foreign land brought you pleasure beyond belief. And these pleasures were not just that of material good for personal indulgence, they brought so much more than that to your life. Before visiting the Martell family, you had no relationship, no true sense of community or kinship. There were no opportunities for you back home.

And now, here you sit, betrothed, surrounded by friends and family who adore you greatly. You’re the next female heir to Dorne’s throne, a ring on your finger symbolizes the eternal bound you now have to prince Oberyn, the most hot-headed yet passionate man you had ever met. In the beginning, your stay in Dorne was great, remarkably exciting and new. But the longer you stayed, the more trouble seemed to arrive.

“Oberyn, please slow down.” You beg, hurrying along behind his eager steps.

“Go back to our room.” he sternly responds, his stride unwavering.

“I’m not leaving you to do this alone, but we must be rational about this.”

“That woman has thrown away my entire life.” The prince seethes in return, hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Hey!” you shout, lunging forward and taking hold of his wrist.

Your quick movements tug him to a halt, his momentum lurching you forward and closer to him. The soft skin of your hands cups his face, urging him to look down at you. His eyes are full of rage and worry, and somewhere in there… he’s crumbling. You can see it.

“She has not thrown away your life. If she has, then what am I? What are your daughters?” your voice wavers with emotion, unwilling to see Oberyn’s internal torment persist any longer.

His expression softens at your words, the tension in his shoulders releasing slightly with a breath. With both hands, he pulls you in, your body flush against his chest.

“Do not cry,” he coos, the soothing calmness of his voice returning.

He lifts a hand, using his index finger to wipe away the single tear that dared to fall. Then, it returns to your hip, mirror the other.

“We need to find order.”

You nod your head eagerly in agreement, pouting slightly as you attempt to control your own emotions. This isn’t how you want your life to go, so full of chaos and rage. Oberyn was promised to you in the stars, as you were to him, you deserve to share a life worthy of that bond.

“I’m so sorry,” he furrows his brows, holding you tighter against him as he slides his hands around to your back. “You haven’t been seeing me at my best.”

“You don’t always need to be at your best. It will exhaust you to have such high expectations for yourself without rest. I will love you no matter what state you are in, I just can’t let this go on. I can’t continue to see you so hurt.”

Oberyn smiles softly, an expression that makes your heart rate calm. One of his hands rises to your face, cupping your cheek gently and sweeping his thumb over your skin.

“I do not deserve such a love.” he mutters, taking a deep breath.

“You deserve every ounce of love, everything good this world has to offer. It should all be yours, Oberyn.”

Your answer is immediate and heartfelt, your soul crying out in every attempt to calm his.

“Please come back to our room with me. We can sort this out there, together.”

His somber expression returns, shaking his head. “I cannot, Inamorata, you know this.”

“Your council meeting isn’t for another hour. Please, Oberyn, please.”

Oberyn’s firm march echoed throughout the halls mere moments ago, making his way to the guard’s corridors in order to rain hell down on whoever had helped Ellaria escape. When he heard of the news, he all but leapt from the bed, leaving both you and your new friend alone. That is, until you gathered yourself enough to follow your prince. He was furious, but you can’t let him make decisions in a state such as this. And if you can coax him back to your room, you’ll get another hour’s rest with him at your side.

“You make it so hard to say no.” he grins, that tempting tone back in his voice.

He appreciates the smile you give him, cheerful and a bit mischievous. Both hands hold the prince’s face, petting at the facial hair along his jaw.

“Come with me, my prince. Come rest with me in bed.”

You thank the Seven Gods you were able to coerce him back upstairs. He cannot make decisions when he’s in such an erratic mood, at least, not ones that are very wise. Oberyn’s temper will be the death of him, but not if you have anything to say about it.

As always, Ambrose stands guard in the hall before your room. He simply nods when you pass, only slightly rolling his eyes. He knew you’d drag Oberyn back up here. When you enter, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Milena and Amabel already working to clean the room. They did this every day, of course, but usually after you’d gone for your midday meal. Right now, it is late into the night. The two of you were joined in bed with one of Daenerys’ Dothraki horselords, only giving him a tease, of course. But when you return, he’s nowhere to be seen, likely escorted out by your two maids. You can worry about such a petty matter later.

Oberyn makes his way for the bed, but you steer him elsewhere, guiding the exhausted prince to the balcony instead. He lets you move him, knowing your persistence will always win. When he steps before the balcony’s banister, you rest beside him, looping your arms around his right bicep and resting your head on his shoulder.

The night is cool, as it always is in the desserts of Dorne. A dark blue blanket hangs over the sky, small holes allowing the light from the heavens to poke through. There were nights where you’d traced these holes, lying in the grass together and pointing at the beauty above. It’s home, his home, your home.

“Do you see it, my prince?” you question, the two of you gazing at the scenery both above and below. “It is yours, all of it is yours. The beauty of Dorne, the eloquent power the land holds.”

Your words encourage his pride to return, blooming powerfully in his chest as he looks at the land that’s birthed the man he is today. His family has done so much for Dorne and its people, he’d be a fool to discontinue such excellence. Such disarray has caused the prince’s confidence to dwindle, he sees that now.

“I’ve never seen a man more worthy of this right than the one at my side.”

You snuggle up against him, his warm and sturdy body welcoming you. He turns you, urging you into his arms. The face he sees looking up at him is once that continues to take his breath away, one that comforts him beyond belief.

“I love you.” he says, staring deeply into your eyes. “I will always love you.”

Instead of responding, you let your heart skip a beat, your body rising to your toes to connect your lips with his. It’s a gentle kiss, one that eases the stress in you both.

“Will you lay in bed with me?” you whisper against his lips, your mesmerizing eyes still closed.

“Of course, I will, my wonderful dove.”

“Do you miss them?”

It’s an honest question, though you know the meaning behind it. You both feel the same, he hasn’t voiced it, but you can feel it. Something isn’t right; does he feel that, too?

“I don’t know.”

Your adopted brother is all you have left. The only person from your life before Dorne that has remained loyal and true, not only to you but also to himself.

Today is a rare day; it’s not often you find yourself in Oberyn’s absence. Everything feels strange. Things did not go as planned when the Khaleesi arrived, which threw many plans off their original course. Oberyn is currently dealing with said interruptions, their affect so intense they had pulled him away from you. After he’d held you in bed, kissing along your skin as you combed your fingers through his hair, he left. And even though it was hard, you understood. He has to deal with this, you have to let him deal with this. You’d both been doing your best to stay strong throughout the trials and tribulations of the past week’s events, but after receiving the news of Ellaria’s escape, you couldn’t bear it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Ambrose quickly says, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Do you know how much I love you?” you return, ignoring his statement completely.

Your young knight looks up at you, his somber eyes meeting your even sadder ones. You reach forward, lightly cupping his face, your thumb rolling gently over his tear-stained cheeks.

“You are more important to me than I think you know,” you kindly, quietly express. “You have been my closest friend, nearly since birth. Ambrose, you have nothing to be sorry for. Your presence right now is the only thing keeping me at bay.”

He reaches for your hand, covering it with his own while closing his eyes and nodding slightly. Ambrose inhales a deep breath, an attempt to steady himself, and a successful one, at that. It’s true, Ambrose is your guard, but that did not mean he was void of all feeling. He was still your brother, your companion, someone who’s always had your best interest at heart.

Nothing else is spoken between the two of you, not for quite a long time. Ambrose lets you rest in bed, eventually returning to his post outside your door. You lay on your side, gazing through the open windows and letting the cool Dornish breeze flow over your skin. It serves well to calm you, your eyes fixated on the beautiful heavens you lay protected beneath.

You do your best to not let your mind wander and worry, to not feel guilt over allowing Oberyn to handle this state of affairs on his own, to not think of the very root of the situation at hand. Because when you do, your stomach twists into knots, disgust crawls across your skin, and you feel as if you’re to become nauseas all over again.

Even though you fight it, intent on staying up until Oberyn returns, your body drifts off to sleep. Your anxiety had only risen upon hearing the news, at first enraged but now just confused. But not long after you doze off, you’re awoken by soft fingers against your cheek.

“Oberyn,”

“Shh…” he coos, sliding a bit of hair from your face. “I didn’t mean to wake you, little one.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, your sleepy eyelids rising to look up at him.

Your voices are quiet, whispering to each other though you’re not sure of the reason why. Maybe for the simple reason of keeping the moment tender, the atmosphere light and soft. It’s truly what the two of you need.

Slowly, he lifts the covers, climbing into bed with you. He wraps you in his arms, pulling you to his chest and holding you tight. He breathes in your scent, smiling to himself when he feels you snuggle into his side.

“My love,” he sighs, petting at your hair. “How are you?”

“I’m tired.” You admit, glancing up at your older lover. “How did it go?”

“Arrest warrants have been made.” he explains, keeping his voice steady. “Ellaria has been seen crossing the border of Dorne, along with my three eldest, Arianne, and your father.”

“I’m so sorry, Oberyn. I can’t believe this has happened.”

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, shifting so he can look directly into your eyes. “What have you done?”

“My father –”

“Did you conspire with him?”

“Well, no.”

“Did you wish my family dead?”

“Oberyn, of course not.”

“Precisely, sweet thing.” He mumbles, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You have no reason to feel regret or guilt.”

“I hate that I let you deal with that alone.”

Oberyn sighs, rolling his eyes slightly as he shifts his body over yours. He holds himself up by his forearms, a small smirk rolling across his sweet pink lips.

“Do I need to distract your worrying mind, pretty girl? Is that what you need?”

“Oberyn,” you retort, sighing out a giggle.

“After all…” he hums, leaning down to trace his nose along your neck. “You did not let me go; I chose to go.”

A fluttering beat pulses in your chest when Oberyn’s lips find your skin, soft and tender kisses now carving a path up your neck and to your ear. He kisses your earlobe, giving the outline of it a small kitten lick.

“But…” he continues, his low voice rumbling through his chest. “What would you let me do, sweet thing?”

You hum at his insinuation, your hands finding a home in his feather-like hair. You urge his mouth back down to your skin, and he happily complies.

“Anything you want, my prince…” you purr, combing through his darken locks. “Anything you want.”

“Are you sure?” he murmurs against your neck. “I don’t want to tire you further with my love…”

One of Oberyn’s hands sneaks down between your bodies, curving inward over your thigh. Since meeting your fiancé, you’d realized the utter uselessness of underwear, something he very much liked. You were taking after him, after all.

“Oh,” he hums, “I see you’re more than ready…”

His fingers fumble along your outer lips, delicately feeling the intimate area of your sex. You giggle girlishly at his words, feeling the pads of his fingers dance along your already slippery slit.

“Please,” you whisper, hands rising to either side of his face. “Will you bring me bliss, my prince? Love me until all our worries fade away?”

He follows your movements, allowing you to lift his head from your neck so the two of you can gaze at one another. Oberyn looks into your eyes, and you’ve never felt such love. The prince of Dorne is entirely devoted you; there’s nothing you could ever do to lose Oberyn’s adoration and care.

“I will love you until our seas of time run dry.” He vows, leaning in to brush his lips against your own.

And while he does this, he moves, situating himself between your beautifully sculpted legs. His left forearm rests beside you, holding him up whilst also cupping the back of your head. His other hand moves down, opening his robes and rubbing himself against you.

“Will you take these off?” he pleads. “I want to feel your skin.”

You immediately comply, lifting yourself gracefully in order to slip off your satin gown. It falls out of your hands down onto the floor, Oberyn’s mouth now redirecting to your chest. The hand he used to free his manhood lifts to your breasts, holding your left one in his hand while his lips wrap around its tip.

“Oh…” you sigh, eyes closing naturally.

It’s as if you will never tire of the prince’s touch, as if your body will never cease to be set alight from his tone alone. You’re so thankful to be by his side, beyond grateful to be welcomed into his world.

Your body runs hot beneath the feel of his tongue, its warmth sliding over your pebbled bud in languid strokes. He loves to feel your nipples rise beneath his touch, loves to rub and massage the pillowy softness of your perfect breasts. And while he does this, he also moves his hips, grinding himself against the wetness he begs to dive into. It doesn’t take long for the prince to harden, his body obsessed with the act of sex no matter what age he is in.

“My love, please leave your mark on me.” You beg, hands fumbling through his hair. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to flaunt your claim.”

Your words force Oberyn’s gentle state into one filled with utter rapture, a small growl slipping past his lips. He opens his mouth, nipping at the puffy flesh of your raised nub, sucking it inside much harder now.

Euphoria swims through your veins as you’re once again consumed by the prince. You yearn to feel the pleasure he brings, to be held in his grace while your being is catapulted into another plane. There’s nothing that’s ever felt as good as Oberyn, nothing.

“Hm…” he smacks his lips when he releases your nipple, staring down at your tits before looking up into your eyes. “You seem more sensitive than usual, little one.”

You bite your lip, heat creeping over your face. You’d cried out when feeling his teeth on your skin, your immediate reaction much more than either of you were expecting.

“It feels good,” you whisper, staring into his eyes.

Oberyn Martell was the most beautiful being you’d ever laid eyes on, and his personality only heightened his attraction. His jawline and nose looked as if they were sculpted by the gods, the deep color in his eyes reflecting that of his soul. His perfectly plush lips curled into a smirk that took your breath away, his teeth straight as can be with the softest, pearlescent tint. The first time you saw the prince’s body in its full glory you’d assumed you were in a dream, unwilling to believe such a man could walk among mortals. Oberyn Martell was a true god to you, someone truly worth your affections.

“I want to make you feel good,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I’m rather good at it.”

You sigh out a laugh, turning to capture his lips in a kiss.

“You are.” You agree, biting into his lower lip. “And I want you to do it again.”

In one motion, Oberyn’s mouth is once again on yours, devouring your moaning whines in a heated kiss. He’s quick to discard his robe, tossing it onto the stone floor near your own previously shed garment. When he moves, you move with him, leaning into his touch. He seats himself even further between your legs, his heavy breaths fanning out over your lips as you continue to kiss. And somewhere between you tugging on his dark brown curls and him kissing you dumb, he’s inside you, throbbing against your walls.

“Oberyn,” you moan, lips fully parting as you take him in.

“Say my name,” he quickly sighs out, retracting himself before thrusting passionately back inside. “You say it so beautifully, my love.”

“Oberyn, more…”

And he wants to give you more, he will give you more, but when he looks down, he stops. He sits back, removing his body from you but staying between your legs.

“Savia,” he says, narrowing his brows as he stares down at where your sexes meet.

“What?” you hurriedly ask, worry in your tone.

You sit up a bit in order to look at what he sees, and when you do, you gasp.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his rich, baritone voice full of concern.

He looks up at your face, scanning your features in order to understand what’s going on. But you’re just as lost as he is. Down between your legs, Oberyn’s shaft sits halfway inside, the rest of him visibly covered in blood.

“I, I don’t know.” you huff out, shaking your head.

During your first month in Dorne, your menstrual cycle didn’t continue as expected. When visiting the maester to address your concerns, they informed you that it was due to the stress surrounding your life. And it made sense, so you believed them. Why wouldn’t you?

“Are you, is it…” Oberyn begins, confusion washing over his face.

He’s seen this before, of course, but he’s also aware that you’d missed your previously expected one. He just isn’t sure if the return of your cycle is a good thing, or a bad one. The uncertainty is what’s scaring him.

“I think so.” you nod, relief flooding into you upon your realization of the situation.

“Do you want me to stop?” he inquires, looking back up at you. “I don’t want to harm you.”

“No,” you reply, shaking your head while reaching out for him. “No, I want you. If you still want me, too.”

You haven’t previously discussed this topic, as you’ve yet to have your period around him. You’re not sure if he’d be uncomfortable with it, and the idea of making him wait at least five days for sex makes you feel guilty inside. You’re more than aware of how high his drive is.

“I want you, Inamorata.” he reassures you, leaning back over your naked form. “I always want you.”

He urges you to recline, laying back down on the sheets below. The moment feels different now, retuning to its original tender sweetness. And to your surprise, he smiles, sighing out happily above you.

Your fingers trace over those delicate indentations, markings in his facial muscle that you love so much. They make him that much more attractive, that much more appealing. He’s so handsome, but he appears even more so when he’s smiling.

Oberyn inhales a slow, deep breath, continuing his previous ministrations. His hips move gently, slowly, now pumping himself in and out. He lowers his head, resting his hairline over yours, connecting the tip of your nose with his.

On the inside, Oberyn’s heart is bursting with joy. He finds this act to be extremely connective, extremely personal and almost holy to him. He’d never done this with any previous lover, other than Ellaria. He’d never had sex with a bleeding woman in a brothel, or any other female counterparts that joined his bed. The blood did not disgust him, it enticed him. It filled him with a sense of pride, knowing that there is a higher possibility that his seed is to take root. He feels honored to do this with you, to touch you in such an intimate way during the days the Seven Gods blessed you with additional fertility. And he does see this as blessing, he sees this specific process that women experience as an incredibly powerful stage.

“Did I hurt you?” he questions, soft breaths and moans filling the little space between you.

“No,” you whimper, jaw dropping at the added pleasure your sensitivity brings. “No, it feels good. It feels so good…”

“Look how good you take it,” he sighs out, groaning deeply when he feels you clench around him. “Even through this.”

“Oh my gods… Oberyn, please give me more.” you beg, having never felt such a sensation before. “Fuck me harder.”

“More?” he asks, kissing your cheek, your forehead. “My little one wants more, does she?”

“Please, it feels so good.”

You’ve never had sex on your period before, but so far, you are loving every second of it. You’re sure there will be days where you’re too tired or nauseous, or have too much pain to do so, but right now, you don’t worry about that.

When Oberyn’s thrusts become more hurried, you can audibly hear his panting gasps. This is something desirable for him, something that feels amazing for him, too. Your walls, usually warm and inviting, are entirely hot and tight. Every shove inside squeezes him firmly, shoots a pang of arousal down his spine. Everything feels heightened, not just for him but for you, too.

In the back of his mind, he worries about hurting you, but you urge him on by digging your heels into his lower back and pulling harder on his hair. You know you’ll probably feel this pain a little too much in the morning, but honestly, it’s what you want. It’s what you crave. Any reminder of Oberyn you welcome blindly with open arms.

Your eyes are pinched shut, body shaking slightly in his arms as he fucks you even harder than you had expected him to. He digs his teeth into the skin of your neck, his caution thrown aside when he hears your beautiful whines.

“You gorgeous girl,” he pants out, “Letting me do this to you…”

It takes everything in him not to beg you for your release, to not ask you to beg for his seed. Your blood reminds him of your fertility, of his want to root his spend inside you. It’s something that entices him greatly. What he doesn’t know, is you’re thinking of that, too.

“You’re so, s – so…” you try to manage out your words, but his lips return to yours before you can.

The humid heat of his mouth washes over yours, his tongue diving inside for the first time tonight. You let him dominate you in this way, too, letting your jaw fall slack so he can lick inside. One of his hands cups your face, sliding down to your jaw as he works his tongue inside. When he does this, his hips nearly still, shoving his stiff erection entirely inside you and grinding his hips harshly into yours. He gives you shallow thrusts, keeping himself buried inside while he tastes your lips and tongue. Your soft moans echo in his throat, your mind floating through endless clouds of bliss while pulsating around him. You feel so at peace in his arms, surrounded by his muscular body and intense desire and want.

“Do you think about children, Oberyn?” you finally force out, grabbing his face to pull his mouth away from you.

With his tongue now out of your mouth, his hips return to their brutal pace, plunging into you with staggering strength. You’re thankful you were able to get your question out, your eyes now rolling back in your head as you’re once again overcome with bliss.

“Of course, I do.” He groans, licking a stripe up your ear.

You loved how often Oberyn used his tongue. Whether you were being intimate or not, it always found its way to your skin.

“I’ve thought about claiming you, Inamorata. Claiming you beneath your skin…” he growls, “I want you to bear my children, you sweet fucking thing. You know this.”

“Obery – yn,” you stutter out, fingernails digging into the firm muscles he’s built along his biceps.

Honestly, you’re surprised this hasn’t begun to hurt yet, the quickening pace of his hips, the bite marks he’s currently leaving on your skin. Now that your cycle has come, you’d expected everything to be tender and tight. But right now, everything feels sensitive, particularly in a way that makes your body shiver inside.

And while he cares about your wellbeing, Oberyn’s mind is in an entirely different realm. Your words have stirred up something deep inside him, something he’s loved for decades, that love now growing with you. Oberyn has many children, and he’s claimed every single one (that he can find). He’s never been ashamed of them, no, he loves them, with everything he has in his heart. He finds the act of sex enjoyable in nearly every way, but with a partner? It only made things better for him. While half of his children were bore by women he’d only known once, the other half were bore by his paramour, a woman he’d planned to share his life with. And honestly, between the two scenarios, he found the latter more enjoyable. He didn’t want to spend his life with random women at his side, maybe at one point he did, but not anymore. He wanted it with Ellaria but now he wants it with you, only you, you and the children you will bring, the family you will make. You’re everything Oberyn has ever wanted, everything he’s ever denied himself of. There isn’t a single doubt in his mind that you’re the woman he’s meant to love, the woman that was always promised to him, the woman that was made for him. He knows how magnificent you are, and he wants to bring more of that into this world.

Though, it’s not just about that for him, is it? It’s not just about love and family for him. While that is certainly a large part of it… the act of impregnating another woman made him wild inside. It made him feel powerful yet gentle, made him feel incomparable. All of his greatness, implanted inside a woman that he finds desirable enough to love, even if just for a night. And the best part about doing this with you, was that it wasn’t just for the night. It was never meant to be just for one night.

“I want to be inside you,” he purrs, grunting into your ear. Oberyn licks his upper lip, grinning against you. “Always.”

“My love,” you gasp out, clinging to him tightly.

Internally, you clench around him, your lungs working intently to fill your body with air even though he’s practically stealing it right from you. It’s like he’s taking everything from you, and what he replaces it with is better than it could have ever been before.

“I want to flood your womb, Inamorata…” he nips at your ear, his words becoming much lower and stern. “Over and over again, until it takes root.”

His words make you gasp, and even though you’d started this conversation, you’re a poor contributor to it now. Every thrust shoves your body over the bed, Oberyn’s strong arms now wrapping around you and holding you tight. Those beautifully, sensually plush lips move against you, trailing over your skin and pressing hot kisses to your jawline and chin.

“Will you give me children, Inamorata?” he finally asks, chest heaving with exertion. His hips are rolling into you, still delivering a staggering amount of force as you crumble beneath his love. “Will you mother more of my children?”

The fact that he says more of them makes your heart melt inside, makes you feel incredibly emotional and altogether in love. He sees you as a mother to them? Truly?

“Oberyn, yes.” comes your immediate answer, moving your head to the side until your eyes find his. Passionately, your hand rises to his face, cupping his jaw with your thumb running over the dark hairs scattered there. “Yes, of course I will, yes…”

Inhaling a deep, almost guttural breath, Oberyn reaches up to grab your jaw. His lips snarl briefly, euphoria overcoming his body from your perfect body and submissive words.

“Are you ready to bare them, little one?” he asks you, completely breathless now. “You want that thought to come to fruition?”

“Yes,” you nearly cry, tossing your head back while linking your legs around his lower back. “Oberyn, let me bring your child, your children, into this world. Let me bless you with more life, our life.”

“You will add many to my family?” he asks, kissing your cheek hotly.

“I will give you as many as you want, my prince. As many little Sand Snakes you desire.”

“You will not give me Sand Snakes, my love.” he murmurs, “You will give me Martell’s.”

When you wake, it is in Oberyn’s arms. He’s snorting gently beside you, his head above your own with your face nestled against his neck. You smile, humming kindly, kissing the taut skin of his throat, once, twice.

Every morning in Dorne, you’ve been graced with many kisses from the sun. Its rays shine in from the balcony, a gentle breeze swaying through the light, almost translucent curtains on either side on the terrace’s entryway. Your senses take in everything they can get, and in this moment, each one has become saturated.

Touch, the sensation of the heat of the sun and the cool brush of air, the warmth of Oberyn’s skin wrapped around every inch of you. Sound, the low thrum of your love’s snores, his steady and sturdy breaths nearly lulling you back into a slumber. Sight, the beauty of his body, his dark stubble, his tanned skin. But not only him, your shared room, too. The beautiful array of colors on your sheets, the multiple textures from the surrounding pillows and blankets. The smooth stone walls the makeup the luxurious space, the waxy candles hanging from the ceiling and the larger ones standing on the floor. And then there is smell, the gorgeous foliage decorating the room’s ceiling, walls, floors, and furniture, they smell heavenly to you. The many flowers in your room are always in bloom, those withering quickly carried away by either Amabel or Milena. There is also the smell of Oberyn, the earthy yet sweet tones that always seem to accompany him. It’s on his skin, in his hair, the fresh smell only heightening his appeal. And lastly, taste. You can’t taste much, beside the sensation of Oberyn’s lips still on your tongue.

A knock on your wooden doors prompts a disruption in Oberyn’s steady breaths but does not cause him to wake. With a playful grin, you roll your eyes, sliding to the side until you’re able to get out of bed. Lazily, you meander toward the door, grabbing a robe in the process. Just after draping it over your shoulders, you open the right panel, smiling as you’re greeted with a friendly face.

“Good morning, my lady.”

You raise an eyebrow, only slightly grinning. “We’ve talked about this.”

Turning, you walk back into your room, allowing Amabel to follow you inside.

“It is only customary.” she returns with a smile, closing the door behind her.

“I’m not royalty, Amabel.” Moving to sit on the chaise nearest to the balcony, you now face her.

“But you are intended to be.” She returns, “And an appropriate title at this point in time, is my lady.”

At this, you cock your head. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“That title won’t be needed for long.” Oberyn sighs, rolling over to sling his legs over the bed, now sitting up.

He’s as naked as the day he was born, his toned muscle flexing slightly as his hands grip the edge of the bed. There’s a lazy grin on his face, eyes entirely trained on you; of course, where else would they be? Your own robe lays open in the middle, leaving practically nothing to the imagination. And yet, this is normal for the two of you, being exposed no matter who may be in the room. You will say though, you’re especially comfortable doing so with Milena and Amabel. You feel like you know them best. And neither of them much mind, either.

“Do you have a date for the wedding?!” Amabel gasps, clasping her hands together excitedly.

Since Oberyn spoke, you looked to him with a smirk. How lucky are you to have him as the love of your life? Someone so beautiful yes, but also someone who loves you so thoroughly, too.

“I’d like to decide on one today,” Oberyn says calmly, eyes unmoving from you.

Amabel continues to fawn over your love for one another while readying your morning bath. She informs you both that Milena is on her way with breakfast, too. But while busying herself, Amabel finds the bloody sheets from last night. After making love to you until you could barely stand, Oberyn stripped the sheets from the bed, setting them aside. He didn’t want to bother any servants at that hour, and neither did you, so he grabbed a large blanket for the two of you to sleep on until morning time. And after cleaning yourselves up, that’s exactly what you did.

“Savia,” she asks, eyes growing wide as she stares at the sheets. Oberyn had gone into the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone for a brief moment. She looks over her shoulder at where he is in the adjoined room, and then back to you, whispering, “Are you alright?”

You frown, furrowing your brows until you become aware of what it is that she is asking.

“Oh, I’m fine, love.” you reassure her, waving lightly in the air. How could she ever think Oberyn would hurt you? “My cycle has finally come.”

“Oh, what wonderful news!” she cheers, remaining on her hands and knees as she tosses fresh petals into your tub. “The maester will be thrilled to hear.”

“The maester?”

“Yes, you intend to tell him, don’t you?” she asks, watching her hands as she works.

“Um, I suppose. Should I?”

“Well, of course. He knew of your missed cycle before; he should be kept up to date on the soon to be princess’s health.”

“A soon to be princess…” you ponder aloud, smiling timidly to yourself.

“And a beautiful wife.” Oberyn adds, returning to the room. “You will bring such grace to Dorne, my love.”

“Do I not already?” you tease back, lifting your brow with a grin.

Oberyn raises his own, cocking his head to the side at your unexpected sass. He grabs your hand, lifting it to his lips.

“You’ve brought more to Dorne than any woman ever could.” with that he places a gentle kiss, asking you to join him in the bath soon after.

Once you’re both submerged, Amabel leaves you to each other’s company, taking the soiled sheets with her as she goes. Though, you’re not left alone for long. Milena arrives with your breakfast only a few minutes after Amabel has left.

“A pleasant morning to you both.” She smiles, pushing the small cart over toward your bath in the center of the room. As she begins placing the silver trays on the floor near the in-ground tub’s edge, she says, “I hear you have finally bled.”

“What a little gossip.” You playfully chide. “Yes, my cycle has now fully come.”

“That is fantastic,” she sighs, pouring water and juice into your glasses. “Wonderful to know that your body is no longer harboring such stress.”

And you suppose she is right. You hadn’t thought about it like that, but the maester did originally say that your period was missed due to extreme stress. It’s nice that your body is finally relaxing, finally realizing that when you’re in Dorne, you’re at peace.

Just as you begin to relax, though indulging in your food as well as your privacy with the prince once again, Oberyn begins to speak of certain, unfavorable topics.

“I must leave once we are done, Savia.” He tells you, swallowing a gulp of orange juice.

You’re huddled up by his side, his one arm slung over both your shoulders. You look up to him, drinking from your own cup, too.

“Why?”

Oberyn takes another sip, staring down at his glass. “I am increasing security.” He informs you, finishing the rest of the liquid in his cup. He sets it on the stone floor, now turning to you. “The safety of yourself, and our daughters, is what matters most to me.”

Oberyn’s hand brushes over your face, eyes admiring your features while his slightly serious expression remains.

“Security measurements will be implemented, starting today. The number of guards both in and outside the palace walls will be doubled.”

“Is this necessary?” you ask, worrying about all the work he is to do. But he shoots you an almost furious look.

“Ellaria and your father killed my entire family, save my daughters. And you.” He says grimly, firmly, and you gulp.

“Of course,” you nod, staring down into your glass. “I’m sorry; that was foolish of me to say. I only meant… I worry about you doing so much for me, for all of us.”

“My lovely Inamorata,” he coos to you, lifting your chin with his forefingers and thumb. You meet his eyes; the ones you feel you’ve known since the day you were alive. “I would do anything for you. I will always care for you.”

Oberyn then turns toward you, giving you a soft smile, and you’re thankful for this. You truly did not at all expect such a harsh expression from him. Though, you understand why he did it.

“Nothing is more important to me than our family.”

This has been clear since the moment you’d arrived in the palace, Oberyn’s love and loyalty for the Martell name and those who hold its title prominent in every way. And he already knows that you feel the same way. Since meeting his daughters, your love for them blossomed, only growing with each passing day. So much so, that when you’re without him, you find yourself in their presence. Even when with Oberyn, the most pleasurable times as of late seem to be with his girls.

Sarella, the oldest of Oberyn’s remaining children, seems to be quite taken with you. She’s extremely easy to talk to, and has already begun to tell you that she loves you. Whenever near, she stays by your side, not because she feels outcasted or annoyed by her sisters, but because she’s starting to see you as kin.

“How are you?” she asks calmly, braiding her hair by the poolside. Unless it was a dull day, the water gardens’ many pools were where you could often be found.

“Will you do mine?” Elia suddenly asks, popping up from the water below. “It got ruined.”

“Obviously,” Sarella sighs, swinging her braid around to her back. “It’s all wet.”

“Will you please?”

Sarella sighs, glancing over at you. You give her a face that says ‘really? You’re her big sister, just do it’, and she complies. As you continue to grow fond of your new children, they’ve also grown accustomed to you being one of their new caretakers.

“So, as I was saying,” she clears her throat, sitting at the pool’s edge as she untangles her sister’s hair. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” you sigh, folding open the book in your lap.

“I heard you’ve bled.” Elia grins, eyeing you from the side.

“Elia!” Sarella snaps, giving her shoulder a light smack.

“You’re bleeding?!” Loreza, Oberyn’s youngest, cries.

“No, my love.” you exhale, closing your book and setting it aside.

“She’s wet!” Sarella scoffs, watching as you pick her up to settle her on your lap.

“As if I could truly care about that.” you return, eyes refocusing on the youngling now at your side. “I’m just fine, my young one.”

“But blood isn’t good.” She shakes her head, staring up at you. “Blood is bad.”

“Blood is bad, mostly.” You agree, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

Looking at Loreza might as well be the same as looking at Oberyn. All of the girls hold Oberyn’s eyes as their own, in shape and color. And while her nose is a bit softer in curve and her skin a bit darker in shade, she looks so much like her father in the face. She has his cheekbones, his jawline, the same hairline and grin. She really is his.

“Mostly?”

“I don’t want you to worry, Minnow.” You tap her nose, making her smile.

Minnow is the nickname you’d given her over the past couple of weeks, being that she is the one that has the most difficult time getting out of the water. You’re surprised she did so just to come up to you.

“Go play; I am just fine.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, my love.” you sigh, smiling before her. “My little Loreza.”

Loreza is nearly seven, but innocent as the day she was born. She knows nothing of the real world and in truth, you want to keep it that way. Every single one of Oberyn’s daughters have found themselves obsessed with war and battle strategy and wit, beside her. Even Dorea, just barely eight, refuses to leave her armament unattended. She brings the weapon everywhere she goes, even going so far as to drag the thing to dinner. It’s nearly as tall as her, too, and likely double her weight. But Loreza doesn’t worry about such things. She is, mostly, untroubled, unworried, though shy, nonetheless. Being the very youngest of her siblings, she waits and watches before taking the first step, oftentimes for many moments. Maybe you can change that for her. She likely won’t be the youngest forever.

“Where is father?” Elia asks, watching her sisters play. She turns one Sarella is done with her hair, folding her forearms up on the edge of the pool so she can look at you.

“At a council meeting,” you answer, holding back your groan.

“Another?”

“Yes, another.”

“Why?” Sarella asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“He insists on our safety, he is detailing extra security precautions.” Now that you’ve said it aloud, you realize how scary this could sound. So, you shrug, casually finishing with, “That is all.”

Once you tell them this information, it becomes quiet, regardless of your few nonchalant words.

“Savia!” another daughter calls, prompting you to look up. “I’m hungry!”

“Me too!”

Obella and Dorea, both impatient and quick. You smile; you would have known it was them just by the tone in their voices.

“Gregoria,” you call, turning you head as you wait for her to approach. “The children are hungry. Will there be a midday meal?”

“Of course,” the girls’ nursemaid nods. “Do they have a preference, my lady?”

“I am unsure,” you ponder for a moment, nibbling on the corner of your lip. “Bring their favorites, please.”

“I… am unsure if they are in stock.” she responds, almost shocked by your answer. Pomegranates and dark chocolates are usually saved for dessert after mealtimes.

“If they are not, I pray someone in this castle will be able to retrieve them from our market.”

“Certainly.” She nods, looking over at the multitude of them swimming in the lap pool.

“They are my girls now.” you grin, looking out at them along with her. “They deserve the best; everything the world has to offer and more.”

Inside, your words make their nursemaid sigh. It’s been a long time since she heard anyone speak of Oberyn’s children like that.

“I would like an array of berries, as well.” you then inform her.

“Oh, that will not be necessary, my lady.” She says, turning to face you. “Prince Oberyn has requested your presence in the council room.”

“Oberyn!”

“What is it, my love? My princess?” he grunts out beside your ear, hands holding you firmly.

He did in fact request you join him in the council room, but cornered you before you were anywhere near its entrance. Happy to see him, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, accepting his few, kind kisses. But few turned into more, kind turned into rough, and before you knew it, he was taking you in the very same spot he’d tasted you on your first night’s stay.

“I will make you a mother, a wife, you will be royalty.” He continues on, clearly having worked himself up while being gone. His thrusts are sharp and deep, his arms holding your legs up while pinning your back against the nearest wall. “And you, you will make me a husband, a man I never thought I could be.”

You’re gripping him tightly, arms clinging to his shoulders with your head lolled back and to the side. He’s huffing out hot breaths against you, his mouth unwilling to move from the column of your throat. His entire body works for you, rolling against you, into you, feeling you repeatedly clench around him.

“So, tell me, what is it, my love?” he finishes, kissing your skin. “I will give you everything.”

“I n – need you,” comes your breathy gasp, lowering your head to face him.

“I’m here, Inamorata, I’m here with you.” Oberyn nuzzles his nose into your cheek, a soft and loving act amongst this carnal feat.

“Inside, Oberyn.” You clarify, voicing your want. You too have thought about your morning discussion ever since being apart. “I want more of you inside.”

Oberyn’s bright smile shines across his face, an expression of cockiness and enjoyment filling his features.

“It feels good, doesn’t it, pretty girl?”

“Yes,”

“Shh…” he coos to you, pressing a barely-there kiss to your lips. “I will breed you, sweet girl. I will mark you in this way…”

“Oberyn…” you whisper, teeth digging into your lower lip as you feel your orgasm approaching. He can feel it, too, your inner walls choking his length as he repeatedly dives inside.

It’s much louder than you expected it to be, but that was when you forgot about your bleeding. You’re entirely surprised that Oberyn doesn’t seem to care about the blood, he almost seems to like it. And not in a strange or even psychotic way, but in an obsessive way. It just serves as another reminder to him of the state that you’re in, a reminder of he fertility he plans on taking advantage of.

“I know, little one,” he kisses your cheek again, and then your temple, now resting his head just above your collar bone. “I know it’s coming…”

Oberyn has been able to read your body since he first saw it, since he first touched it, playing you beautifully like you’re an instrument he’s known every day of his life.

“I want to see you, beautiful thing, I want to see you cum.” Oberyn tongue then lays out across your chest, licking and kissing you as his hips become arrhythmic and jagged.

“H – Harder,” comes your quiet beg, eyes pinching shut. “Please.”

Honestly, you’re shocked that your body can withstand such force from him, considering your current state and the fact that you made love the night before. But you’re not sore, not in the least, you only want more.

Oberyn chuckles, his stubble brushing roughly over your delicate skin. “You love it like this, don’t you?” he asks, sighing out a laugh before he calls you, “Filthy thing.”

“Yes, my love, my Viper.” You look up once again, grabbing his face in both your hands. “I love your passion.”

With a firm kiss, Oberyn crumbles, your mouths opening while staying pressed to one another. The prince’s harsh groans are undeniable as they echo throughout the palace walls, much emptier than usual, these days. Soon to be full of security, though.

“Y – Yes,” he grunts out against you, the word releasing as a harsh stutter.

The impact of his release prompts your own, your pleasure center having been stimulated by Oberyn’s open belt. The harsh press of his hips completely sends you over the edge, your orgasm rising to its full potential as he rolls his pelvis into yours.

Your hands curl around to the back of his head, fingers intertwining through his dark curls. They’re graying on the ends, just slightly, and the sight only heightens your attraction to him. Your older nobleman clings to you tightly as he pleasure overcomes him, his entire body pressing and connecting to yours. He feels you hold him, feels your fingers pet him, and the combined actions make him soft inside. He feels so safe with you, so comfortable and at peace with you. In his eyes, you are the heaven the gods have promised him.

“My love,” you sigh quietly from above, his head falling to your shoulder once more. “My prince…” your lips press themselves to his temple, a soft and soothing kiss. “I adore you.”

Immediately, he lifts his head, still breathless as he looks into your eyes. “You are everything to me.” His hand then rises, lightly cupping your face. “Everything, Savia. You are everything to me.”

Oberyn had this planned out; of course he did. He knew there would be some mess to clean up, so he strategically cornered you near the closest bathroom he could. Shortly after pulling out of you, he kept you in his arms, carrying you to the washroom. Not a soul was inside as he set you on the counter, grabbing a cloth from his pocket and wetting it in the water. Gently, he cleaned you, making sure any red stain was gone from your skin. When he originally lifted you into the air, pressing you back against the sturdy stone, he made sure to keep both your coverings as well as his out of the way. And he deems himself successful, seeing no blood on either one of your clothes.

“You’re sweet to me.” You say, your face heating up as he holds onto your hand. His grip is firm yet loving, like he doesn’t ever want you to leave his side. And you’d bet your life that this thought is true.

He turns his head to the side, smiling at you as he leads you to the council room. Hand in hand, you enter at the same time, smiling and nodding a greeting to each person sitting at the center table. Though you do not often find yourself in this area, Oberyn has a designated seat for you right next to him, the chair just as luxurious as his. He pulls the seat out for you, kissing your cheek as you step forward before sitting down.

“Savia,” your name is then said, prompting your head to look across the room.

On the other end of the table, she sits. “How are you?” Daenerys smiles, her impeccable beauty shining.

“I’m well.” You return, smiling. “It’s so nice to see you, Daenerys.”

“You’re too kind,” she says, “I’m sorry to have taken you away from your daughters.”

Under the table, Oberyn’s hand finds your thigh, squeezing it with joy and love. Your own covers his, mirroring the act.

“It’s not a problem at all, your majesty. They are enjoying time in the pools.”

“Your one daughter, Sarella…”

“Yes?”

“She is of womanhood, yes?”

“Yes, she is nearly twenty years of age.” you answer, and Oberyn smiles fondly. You’ve never gotten a single detail about his daughters wrong.

“I wonder, will she join us in this room?”

You look to your lover, then back to her. “I don’t believe so. Why do you ask?”

“Before leaving, I would love to meet the heir to the Dornish throne. If she is anything like her parents, I am sure her grace and wit is divine.”

Neither you nor Oberyn seemed to have considered this. It is now fact that Sarella is the heir to Dorne’s throne. While she most likely will not succeed yourself or her father for many years, decades, it is still important for her to know. Perhaps you should have this discussion with her soon.

“We appreciate your gracious assumptions, Daenerys.” Oberyn says quite flatly. “But may we proceed?”

While Daenerys can be charming, and is soon to be one of your allies, Oberyn is no fool. When it comes to battle strategy for political gain, his focus is of the utmost importance. He’s also aware that you’re only here to seal off on the treaty, all of the details having already been worked out. He’s wondering if she’s trying to slip something in.

“Yes, of course.”

The agreements are then laid out to you, Daenerys’ alliance with Dorne official once you all draw your pens. She is to add to Dorne’s security, but not that of the castle. Oberyn insists on having his own personnel inside his family’s home. If war is to come to Dorne, Daenerys is expected to support the fight and protect this land. Her dragons, however, are not even touched in this agreement. They are hers and hers alone.

“Of course,” you nod, giving her a small shrug as if the statement were obvious. “They are your children.”

At this, she gives you a small, appreciative smile. Many do not understand the relationship she has with them in this way.

In addition to these and a few other details, Daenerys is to take part in the search for Ellaria, the three eldest Sand Snakes, Arianne, and your father. She claims that justice will be brough to teach of them, adding in that it will only be finalized by Oberyn’s hand. This in particular seems to appease him. Oh, what a hot-headed man he is. A passionate man with intense desires and unwavering beliefs. And he is yours.

The pens are given, the three of you being the most crucial representatives to this alliance. Your signatures are needed if this is not to fail. And because of the weight of this decision, Oberyn opts to bring you aside to discuss it in private.

“How do you feel, my love?” he asks, approaching you with his hands finding their place on your hips. One then rises, his thumb brushing across your jawline.

“I am favorable to this,” you inform him. “She is… she is someone to be feared, Oberyn.” This is said sternly, as you know Oberyn does not like to admit such things. No one is fiercer than him. And while this may be true, and certainly is to you, he needs to understand that others have the capability to be formidable adversaries. “But I believe she will do good for us. She will keep her word.”

For as temperamental as he can be, he agrees. All he needed was your word to go through with this. It’s not that he didn’t think it was a good plan, it truly was. For Daenerys, not having Dorne as an enemy gave her an incredible upper hand in this war. For Dorne, staying relatively outside of the battlegrounds was favorable, too. Everyone seems to win. He just worries that there’s a catch.

Nevertheless, your signatures are set, each of you writing your marks onto the agreement at once. Shortly afterwards, Daenerys thanks you both, bowing to each of you before reaching out to shake Oberyn’s hand. Being the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, in your minds, it’s rare for her to do such a thing. This is truly a show of humility and friendship in your eyes. And to your utter delight, Oberyn takes this offering. He shakes her hand, giving her a brief nod. While you wish he would have been a bit friendlier toward her, you’ll take what you can get.

“I will be at the writing station, my love.” he whispers to you, pulling you in by slinking his arm around your lower back, placing his hand on your hip. He kisses your ear, telling you, “I won’t be long.”

The prince walks a mere few feet from you, discussing the future with his guards. This is when Daenerys comes closer to you. Without warning she reaches out, placing her palm over your lower stomach.

“Oh,” you stumble, uncomfortable at the sudden and unexpected touch.

“I have miscarried before.” she says solemnly, quietly. Why is she telling you this? “You, will not.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, her hand unmoving from your belly. Her eyes are fixated on it too, a motherly grin warming her face before she looks up at you.

“You are blessed.” She tells you wholeheartedly, then looking to the prince further behind you. His back is turned to you both, but she nods in his direction before returning her gaze to you. “And you will bless him, too.”

Thank you for reading <3

#oh my god you guys #i missed this series so much #wowowow #I love it SO MUCH #Insatiable Series #Oberyn Martell #Savia Vyrwell #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x f!reader #Oberyn Martell smut

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angelamajiki · 4 years

Text

[ a father’s love ]

PARING: StepFather! Aizawa x StepDaughter! Reader

SYNOPSIS: Your stepfather took you in with open arms after the death of your mother. Depression gets the better of you and Shouta promises to take care of you. But just how far is he willing to go to see it through?

CW: yandere, pseudo-incest, mentions of stalkers, mentions of death, depression, mental health issues, pregnancy, noncon, somnophilia, bondage, daddy kink, praise kink, afab reader

AN: my first collab with the bnharem server!! the theme was roommates (i ran with the term loosely) read the other member’s takes here! mind the tags as usual and enjoy!! :)

The death of your mother shattered you. A freak accident with a villain attack had her crushed under rubble from a collapsed building. Your stepfather, Shouta, suggested that you move back home with him after her funeral. As tempting as the offer was, you were determined to make it through University and handle yourself like a big girl, an adult ready to take on the world. You had only moved out a few months before her death, independence calling to you after you received your college acceptance letter.

A few months and an eviction notice later, you crawled back to him, the only remnants of your family. Open arms enveloped you, bringing you solace and comfort in your dire time of need. You felt like a child, bundled up in his arms as you sobbed, screaming at the cruelty of the world. Depression hit you hard and deep, flunking you out of your classes and preventing the bills from being paid. You had no other alternative but to accept his offer.

“You time and space to grieve properly, kitty. The most logical thing to do is take a breather.”

Ah, kitty. He always knew that was your favorite nickname, calling you that ever since you were a little girl. He also always knew just what to say. Patting your thigh, he stood up and extended his hand to help you up as well.

“Let’s go step up your room. I'm sure you need a nap after that cry.”

He gave a wrinkly smile before disappearing down the hall.

Skeptical at first, you were unsure if it was the right move to return home. You needed time to figure out what you wanted, what you needed. A break from life would give you a chance to sort things out, right? And Shouta was more than prepared to use this opportunity to show you he would be all that you needed and more.

The man was nothing short of doting and generous. A shoulder to cry on, a good laugh, a friend, a father. He helped you piece your broken soul back together. Whenever he wasn’t patrolling, he was at home with you. When your depression seemed to drown you, Shouta was there to pull you out of the water. He made sure you ate, helped brush your hair when it was matted, and got you into clean clothes daily. It was the small things that he did for you that helped your demeanor change.

—

“Up and at ‘em, kitty. Breakfast is on the table.”

You grunted, burrowing deeper into your bedding. A chuckle reverberated in his throat as he rubbed your lower back soothingly.

“C’mon, I know you haven't been eating lately. Let's get some food in you. I made your favorite.”

—

But as time passed, his help could only do so much. Your mental health continued to dwindle, plummeting into the ground when her first anniversary passed.

—

Gentle strokes of a brush smoothed through your tangled hair. Shouta was kind enough to help you when your head got matted into a rat’s nest, being incredibly tender and gentle with you. Tears streamed down your face, broken hiccups and sobs bubbling from your chest. You were trying to hold it in, he could tell. A sweet kiss was placed on the back of your head as he enveloped you in a comforting embrace, letting his hands sip down to your hips to rub circles in.

“Let it out, kitty. I'm here for you.”

He was the only one that was.

—

The domestic dynamic the two of you fell into hardly felt like one of parent and child, but more as two lovers sharing a home they built together. The pair of you even adopted a new cat together in hopes of cheering you up. You can't say that you disliked it. It felt...nice to have your presence matter when it was a struggle even to be alive. Shouta always checked in on you; whether he sent you an update from work or shared a cat video. He really was the best father anyone could hope for, even when your depression got the worst of you.

Your depression started to manifest itself in many forms. Lately, you’d been having vicious nightmares, only to wake up with an unknown stickiness on your thighs. Recalling the night terrors was something that evaded you, but you knew you were being violated. Perhaps your body wet itself from the fear of the dream? It was the only logical answer you and Shouta could come up with. Depression sure had funny ways of physically manifesting itself. You thought that would be the end of it, putting the situation behind you.

It was until it started happening nightly. The nightmares only seemed to prolong themselves, worsening to the point where you could vividly dream of being assaulted. Your underwear was now soiled too, and it definitely wasn’t your doing. Fearing you had a stalker, Shouta installed brand new locks on your windows and doors, hoping to soothe you. He was a Pro-Hero, so he certainly had the means and know-how to protect you. It put you at some ease, but it continued to the point where your stepfather decided sleeping in the same room would help you feel safer.

It didn't.

The nightmares themselves only seemed to get worse, but Shouta was right there to comfort you as soon as you woke up shouting in a panic. He would take you into his arms and hold you until you fell back asleep. You felt like a child. But he didn't judge you.

After a month of strange behavior, the stress caused you to gain some weight. Visiting a doctor was your best bet to get an answer. He took you to your appointment, letting you hold onto his arm for comfort as his hand rested comfortably on your thigh. The two of you were mistaken for a couple by a nurse. What a strange, intimate relationship the pair of your tangled yourselves in.

The doctor ran some tests and had your blood drawn. The results were to be emailed to you in a few days. Shouta calmed your nerves with a tender kiss to the forehead, reassuring you that everything would work itself out.

The notification for the email came in a few days later while Shouta was at work and you were lounging in the living room. Patience was never your strong suit, so you took his laptop from the coffee table, only to open up to a camera feed. Coming from your room.

The blood in your veins ran cold as you looked into the memory drive of the feed. Maybe he set up a camera to see what was happening during your nightmares? That had to be it; how could you assume the worst of your sweet dad? The only saved footage to be found was him fucking himself deep inside of your sleeping body.

“I see the results are in.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. He always had a habit of sneaking up on you.

“What-” You couldn’t find the words to describe your anger. “What the fuck is this!”

Disgust. Rage. Dispair.

Your only family left had turned against you.

“You were upset at the loss of your family, kitty. So I decided to give you a new one.”

He couldn't possibly mean…

“You’re pregnant.”

Bile rose to your throat as you gagged at the mere thought of his words. Pregnant? With your father’s child? His betrayal cut you more profoundly than your mother’s death ever could have. But it couldn't have made more sense—his touches, his comfort, sleeping in your room, the nightmares that plagued you.

“You’re sick!”

You shouted, tears streaming down your face as you continued to pummel insults and nasty spats at him. You lost your voice by the end of your rant, panting and heaving while sweat beaded your brow. He just stood there, taking everything in with a grain of salt.

“I understand, kitty. I really do. I should have been straightforward with my intentions.” He confessed.

The capture weapon around his neck snagged you the second you moved on the couch.

“Let daddy make it up to you. I'll make everything better for my pretty little kitty.”

It secured you to the sofa, keeping your legs spread and your hands behind your torso. On his knees in front of you, Shouta was ready to serve his apology with his tongue. Panties and sweatpants were ripped at the seams before being tossed aside.

He caressed your thigh with a delicate touch, pressing his lips to the other side. A kiss was pressed to your clit before long slow strokes of a hot tongue lavished it in attention. He kneaded your thighs gently all the while, humming as he began to alternate between licking and suckling on your sensitive nub.

Your head thrashed about in your binds as you shouted in protest.

“S-Stop it right now! Get off of me, dad!”

In a desperate plea, you hoped that hearing you call him dad would force him back into reality. Instead, he groaned and took a breath.

“Call me that again, kitty.”

A hot mouth sealed over your wet cunt as he dove his tongue between your folds while sucking with his lips. The pleasure was undeniable; his tongue was too experienced to ignore how his ministrations made you feel. Toes flexing and curling, you cried out of a mix of frustration, disgust, and humiliation as he continued to work at your dripping hole. This pig was getting off on the fact that he was fucking his daughter. It made your soul shatter all over again, the one he worked so hard to rebuild.

You continued to sob, moans now added to the mix, as he worked a finger inside of you. He made a curling motion after plunging in knuckle deep. A pleasured shout broke between your cries.

“I'll take it that’s your sweet spot, pretty girl? Good to know.”

He continued to abuse that spot, slowing down just a touch with his tongue to drag out the ride to the peak. Can't have you coming too fast, now can we? Your moans and whimpers spurred him on even more as he wiggled another finger inside you.

Removing his mouth, he focused on stretching and loosening up your tense body. You were lax when sleeping, so sliding in was a pinch with his size. But now he has to deal with you thrashing and struggling against his bonds. Disgust and pleasure churned together in your gut, feeling the incoming orgasm approaching hard and fast. Shouta felt you clench around his fingers and added a third, using his thumb to swipe your clit back and forth. With a final cry, you came on his fingers with a shout as your body convulsed in the capture weapon. You found what little peace you could in your short-lived post-nut clarity, taking a moment to breathe and center yourself.

Your father gave you no such chance to do so, immediately springing his cock free and rubbing the tip against your clit to gather your wetness. A chuckle sounded in his throat as he watched you twitch even more from the stimulation that was starting to border on being painful.

“Relax, kitty. Being tense won't do you any good.”

He slowly nudged his cock into your hole, groaning as he took his time bottoming out inside you. Praise spilled from his lips as he let you adjust, feeling your pussy clench tight around him. Good girl, good kitty. He shushed your sobs, smoothing the tears off of your face with the pads of his thumb. Murmurs of good girl and taking me so well slipped your senses. The pace he set was slow and deep, letting you feel every agonizing inch of his rather impressive dick.

Your flowing tears were kissed away as he proceeded to thrust faster and deeper. The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the room, even above your now weakened crying and whimpers. Sweat beaded on your brow plastered your hair to your forehead. His breath was warm against your cheek, his moans of pleasure so close to your ear forced you to stay in the moment.

Shouta swallowed your cute noises with a kiss, cupping and stroking your cheek with his right hand while his left pinned your hips down into the cushions. He did his best to stop your tears, pushing the hair off of your sweaty face. A few minutes passed filled with kisses, cries, and deep thrusts before he maneuvered you to be seated in his lap. Back pressed into the cushions, he lazily thrust up into you, hands grabbing your now bouncing ass. His thumb made its way back to your clit as he rubbed it in small circles, grinning at your cries of pleasure that you couldn't hold back. Dark brown eyes fluttered shut as he groaned and moaned proudly, increasing the speed of his thrusts as he felt himself getting closer and closer.

He usually lasted longer while you were sleeping; he does have quite a bit of stamina from his hero work. But something about seeing your flushed, torn face, hearing your whimpers and cries, he can't help but cum rather quickly for his own record. The pleasure was manifesting itself within you again, a second orgasm hitting you like a speeding truck as you gasped and choked for air at its intensity. Shouta was soon to follow, grunting and moaning loudly as he filled your cunt with his spend. He rode out both your orgasms, relishing in the silence between the two of you. It was better than hearing your broken, choked up wails.

It was wrong; he knew that. Breaking your trust, violating you, sabotaging your personal life, he couldn't help but be selfish with you. But he always knew what was best for you, always knew how to take care of you when you couldn't.

Foreheads pressed together, he caught your sagging body against him in a warm hug, stroking your hair when you started to sob uncontrollably.

“Let it out, kitty. I'm here for you.”

#yandere shouta aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #yandere x reader #yandere

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krabmeat · 3 years

Note

☊⏃⋏ ⟟ ⏚⟒ ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏? ⏃⋏⊬⍙⏃⊬⌇ ⋏⍜⍙ ⏁⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⏃⌰⌰ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍙⏃⊬. ☌⍜⎅ ⍀⟒⏃⎅⟒⍀ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⍀⟒⎐⟟⎐⟒⎅ ⎍⋏⟒⌖⌿⟒☊⏁⟒⎅⌰⊬ ⏚⊬ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔? ⟟⏁'⌇ ⌰⟟☍⟒ - ⏃ ⍀⟒⏃⌰⌰⊬ ⏚⏃⎅⏃⌇⌇ ⏃⋏⏁⏃☌⍜⋏⟟⌇⏁ ☌⍜⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ☌⟒⏁⌇ ⌿⎍⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ☊⏃⌰⌰⟟⋏☌ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ "⌇⏃⎐⟟⍜⎍⍀" (⏚⎍⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏃ ⋔⍜⍀⟒ ⌇⏃⏁⟟⍀⟟☊⏃⌰ ⍙⏃⊬ ⟟⋏⌇⏁⟒⏃⎅ ⍜⎎ ☌⟒⋏⎍⟟⋏⟒⌰⊬ ⌇⟒⟒⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒ ⋔⏃⌇☍⟒⎅ ⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⌇ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⊑⟒⍀⍜ ☊⏃⎍⌇⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⏃⌇⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬'⎐⟒ ⋔⍜⌇⏁ ⌰⟟☍⟒⌰⊬ ☊⏃⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⟒⎐⟒⍀⊬⍜⋏⟒ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⋔⟟☌⊑⏁⊬ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⍀ ⏁⍜ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⍜⟟⋏⏁ ⍙⊑⟒⍀⟒ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⎎⟒⟒⌰⌇ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏃⋏⎅ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⌇⟟⍀⏃⏚⌰⟒). ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⍀⍜⏃⋔⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌰⏃⋏⎅⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌇⋔⌿, ⏚⍀⟟⋏☌⟟⋏☌ ⏁⟒⍀⍀⍜⍀ ⏃⋏⎅ ⊑⟒⌰⌰⎎⟟⍀⟒ ⏃☊⍀⍜⌇⌇ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ⌰⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ☍⟒⌿⏁ ⟟⋏ ⍀⏃☌⟒ ⌇⏁⍀⍜⌰⌰ ⎎⍀⟒⟒. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⟒⋏⎅ ⎍⌿ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⎍⋏⎅⍀⏃, ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⎍⍀⋏⟟⋏☌ ⎎⌰⏃☍⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏃⌇⊑⟒⌇ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⌰⍜⌇⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⏃⍀⌇⊑ ⌿⟟⌰⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⌇⋏⍜⍙. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⌇⏁⎍⋔⏚⌰⟒⎅ ⎍⌿⍜⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ☊⍜⏁⏁⏃☌⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⍙⍜ ⟟⋔⋔⍜⍀⏁⏃⌰ ☌⍜⎅⌇ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⋔⏃⊬ ⍜⍀ ⋔⏃⊬ ⋏⍜⏁ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ☍⋏⍜⍙. ⍙⍜⋏⎅⟒⍀ ⍙⊑⏃⏁'⌰⌰ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏? ⟟ ⍙⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⌰⟟☍⟒ ⏁⍜ ⌇⟒⟒ ⊬⍜⎍⍀ ⏁⏃☍⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟟⌇.

- ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: philza, techno, Wilbur,(next few only mentioned)Mexican dream, schlatt, dream

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fire, death, arson, betrayal mention, being used, reference to drugs, slight cursing

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: translation vvvvv

Can i be enderman anon? anyways now that's all out of the way. God reader getting revived unexpectedly by dream? it's like - a really badass antagonist god that gets pulled out of the underworld, calling dream their "saviour" (but in a more satirical way instead of genuinely seeing the masked man as their hero cause in the past they've most likely called everyone that helped them their mighty helper to the point where the title feels overused and undesirable). They roamed the lands of the smp, bringing terror and hellfire across the overworld, letting their kept in rage stroll free. They end up in the tundra, the burning flakes of ashes getting lost in the harsh piles of snow. They happened to have stumbled upon the cottages of two immortal gods that they may or may not have used to know. Wonder what'll happen? i would like to see your take in this.

- enderman anon

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I DONT KNOW IF YOULL EVEN READ THIS STILL BUT TY FOR THE REQUEST IT ISNT THE BEST QUALITY IM SORRY :[[[

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

You almost don't recognize the sensation of grass against your calloused and rough hands. You were in the void playing solitaire with Schlatt and Mexican Dream, and the next thing you knew you were suddenly pulled harshly by the back of your collar, falling on your spine. The looming mask of Dream is what stood above you, but he looked different. Longer hair, smelly, wearing a stained lime green jumpsuit with ‘0001' sewn into it and covered in cuts, scars and bruises. But before you could even question why Dream was suddenly there, he stepped back into the void, the void slowly surrounding and consuming him the further he went backwards. His now bony hand is still tightly gripped onto the back of your shirt, so while struggling your body is also enveloped in darkness. All it took was one blink and there you were on a patch of grass, staring at the pale blue sky.

"Huh."

Was all that came out of your mouth. You were still shocked at the turn of events that just happened, but no longer grounded. A running river nearby stunned your senses. How long had you been dead? It felt like years, but when you look around at the familiar forest you died in, not much had changed except for a couple newly planted saplings here and there. The swirling ashes you remembered before you died had all settled and compressed into the soil.

The river showed a strange reflection of yourself- your features have clearly sunken into your skull and there's a streak of white hair coming from your scalp along with words in fancy gold letters on your arm reading,

"May thy woes and hurt of the past no longer eradicate the upwards of this lost souls future. Allow thine to be praised by Ender themselves and be granted another chance at mortality."

Scrubbing or picking at your arm did nothing, so onwards you went walking along the forest to what you remember being a bustling "community".

Each mound of dirt you saw only brought memories of your death, of the place and people who sought to treat you like you were disposable. And now that you’re alive, you hate that they technically ended up being right. Your death; alone in a forest. Running away from the unexpected attacker, ashamed and too prideful to die in the prying eyes of your enemies. It fills you with rage, all the lives taken by your hands and for what? You weren’t overreacting, you knew that for sure. And before you knew it, you stole some fresh flint and steel from a random chest and got to work.

You had always wanted to touch the fires you set. The soothing feeling you got from watching wood burn to char and ashes satisfied you. And it made it all the more euphoric to know it was trees of your manipulator's land. Running across the land, with flames as far as you could see when you looked behind you. The heat swirled around your neck and went into your nose, but the feeling was muscle memory at that point. You were still riding your high when a voice reached out to you, luckily when you were finally calm.

"What- Y/n? Hold on, is that really you Y/n..?"

You spin on your heels to the familiar manipulative British voice of a person you haven't seen in a long time.

"Wilbur?! Man, I haven't seen another person's face other than those two addicts in a while- you look different."

His eyes much like yours are sunken deep into his skull, purple-pink bags under his eyes and dull skin. Wilburs shocked lips fade into an opened mouth smile when he walks up to you with his hands momentarily confused on what they should do. Eventually, his right hand settles on clasping your left shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“Y/n it is so good to see you! You look quite different yourself, wouldn’t you think-? Oh, look! We’re matching!”

The grey streak in your hair seems to make another appearance when Wilbur briefly smacks it with his middle and pointer finger.

“Ay, it’s nice to see you too Wil, but back up for a second alright? I've got something to ask you by the way…”

Wilburs head peaks in interest, urging you to go on.

“I’m guessing that little streak in your hair wasn’t a fashion choice- and if it was it’s a bit strange- but how’d you get it? You died when you blew up L’manburg! I mean c'mon, people don’t just, well…REVIVE!”

He starts to walk. You aren’t quite sure where, but stumbling along with Wilbur while his arm is draped lazily atop your shoulders seems to suffice.

“Ahh Y/n, you’d be surprised. The most WONDERFUL thing happened, actually! Years and years in my hell of a train station; do you know who was at the subway door when it finally opened, Y/n? Dream!”

“Wh- Dream?!”

Appalled, you try to stop in your tracks but fail when wilburs arm is still pushing forward. His storytelling voice dies down to curiosity and excitement.

“Wait, did he save you too? He did, didn’t he? Oh, this is wonderful!”

Wilbur emits eagerism and you suddenly realize what you could do with his desperacy to be socially accepted. Putting on the most exaggerated and animated voice, you speak.

“Oh my god yeah! Gosh, that Dream guy is my hero! Thanks to him, I get to have another chance at living again, and isn’t that just…swell.”

In all honesty you didn’t really try hard to sound sincere but by the look of Wilbur, it seemed to work just fine.

“Right?! I’ve been meaning to visit him in the prison if you’d like to tag along with me the day I go? I’m sure he’d love to see you, since he revived you and all.”

Oh, you were sure Dream wanted to see you. He wants a boon- a trade. Why else would he revive two of the most historically significant people on the server if not to make some sort of deal with them? Sure, Wilbur is as gullible and carefree as ever but you at least still had scraps of mental stability and level-headedness that made you all the more a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention Wilbur doesn’t know that Dream killed you, but telling him that now would blow your act. You decide to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Yeahh, sure! I’d love to go, just tell me when.”

And that’s the end of that conversation. The two of you walk to wherever Wilbur is going. It honestly surprised you how he couldn’t see through your apathy. From what you remembered, he was keen on being wise about people and their intentions but you guess years and years in hell do things to a person.

Somehow, you’re stuck in your mind for long enough that only now do you feel the sharp winter air making the hairs on your arms and legs stand straight up.

“Wait, snow?”

The tundra was a drastic contrast to the void you were once in with schlatt and Mexican Dream. Instead of black as far as you could see, it was a blinding powdery white.

‘Mexican Dream would’ve liked it here, probably would have tried to snort the snow like coke.’

You weren’t built for the snow, though. Hell- you didn’t even have a memory of anyone living in a tundra when you were alive! Why was Wilbur even in the tundra? You didn’t have the energy to ask, still feeling brittle and tired, back aching from laying on the dry dirt longer than expected earlier.

“Yeah, just figured I’d show you around! Plus I already need to grab a couple things from an ender chest and this was the closest by. I’m a very busy man, after all.”

But why were there so many footprints in the snow? As far as you knew, Wilbur was the only one who lived out in the tundra- and he didn’t seem like the active type at all. There were strange shapes as well, large hooved footprints. However, all thinking comes to a halt at the same time Wilbur does.

“We’re here! You might see some familiar faces cause I live with people.”

Well, that answers the footsteps as well as the tall red-caped piglin hybrid giving leftover bones and raw meat to a polar bear.

“TECHNO! TECHNO, HEY!”

He tenses up for a second, you could tell he wanted to be left alone but that didn’t really bother Wilbur. But you recognize him. The name and the apparel- that guy is Technoblade. The same Technoblade who stood by your side while the two of you blew L’manburg up for the last time, and now the Technoblade who resides in a cottage shrouded in snow.

“Technoblade?!”

Hearing your voice being carried by the crisp winter air, he turns around immediately to see you and Wilbur a few feet away. Techno stood there dumbfounded, but he didn’t know why. He wasn’t particularly joyed or ecstatic to see you, but he was at the very least happy to see an old ally back.

“Y/n? Oh my god, now we’ve got TWO of you? We don’t have room for another one, alright?”

For some it might be hard to see the meaning behind his words. Luckily you’ve talked to him enough to where you can tell he’s being playful.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just build directly on top of your house. Besides, who WOULDN'T want to be near me 24-7?”

“Me-“

“Oh f*ck off.”

You would’ve thought that that was Wilbur due to the similar accent, but there was something off. The slight gruffness and age, yet still succeeding in sounding mellow.

“Phil! How’s my favorite old bird doing?”

He gives you a face. Not a happy one like you expected, rather a face that says ‘really?’ Probably because of the old comment. The two of you briefly hug, Phil’s tattered wings stretching out slightly.

“I’m doing alright, are you okay? Here, would you like to come in? It’s pretty cold outside, you probably haven’t seen snow in a couple years.”

He wasn’t wrong after all. You were freezing your toes off and were itching for lemon tea. The kind Phil used to make when he, Technoblade and Dream discussed plans on destroying L’manburg. Ah, the good ol days…

“Of course! We’ve got a lot to talk about- you still have that old chess board?”

“Yes, but first you have some explaining to do about the fire over in that tree, Y/n. You just got back and you’re already burning down forests?!”

“Did someone say fire?”

Techno has an eager stride in his step once he also looks back to see the raging lights of orange and red in the nearby forest.

“Don’t worry Phil! It’s just- ahh, a controlled burn..?”

Your tone of voice is unsure when a black crow shoots down from the sky into the snow in front of you. It’s left wing is charred and has smoke dancing from the burn. Philza looks at you with a stern glare.

“Oh my f*cking god…that’s it! We’re all going inside now, you too Techno. I don’t want you and Y/n going on a rampage.”

#krabs kreates #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #dsmp x platonic reader #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #philza x reader #philza x y/n #philza x you #techno x reader #techno x y/n #techno x you

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icyymocha · 3 years

Text

Falling Like The Stars

Pt. 2,

warnings: Fluff. Lots of Fluff. Bits of angst.

Word Count: 2,040

pairings: Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary: Bucky wonders how you would act as a mother if you and he had kids of your own. Bucky blushed at the thought. You would be such a good mother to your own kids. A possessive feeling was deep down in his stomach he knew all too well. Maybe….Just maybe….Would you like to start a family? No, no, no, he knew you would like to start a family. But, would you like to start a family with him?

Hesitant to voice out his opinion, afraid that this moment so surreal and domesticated would be gone in an instant and he would be brought back to the sinister hallways. A hell place that forced him to become a sadistic monster. The screams and cries of pain, torture, and never-ending abuse of Hydra plagued and tainted him. Bucky shivered at the thought of being in that hell hole, he couldn’t bear it any longer. He couldn’t even think about the thought of Hydra forcing you to endure what he had to go through. No, he would never allow hydra to steal you away from him, not once would he let them take you away and be used to their benefits. You’re too pure, and someone who has a corrupted soul like him shouldn’t be allowed to be with you. But here he is—with you.

With you by his side, guiding him in the right direction. You pull him so close as you both snuggle underneath the weight of many blankets on the couch; you guided him home. Bucky couldn’t help but feel soft. He cherished—no, he loved little moments like these. Where it’s just you and him. Your little snores and relaxed breathing soothes his, rather, internal demons that claw through his mind, etching to be heard. To scream out for wanting blood. Bucky doesn’t honestly know how you can calm down the voices in his head. It’s as if you held a command in his brain. He knew you would never implant a chip in his mind, you’re too soft and too good for him to do so.

Flowing like the river with grace and beauty, Bucky embraces your warmth as if he was starved for days. He pulls you in so close, you can hear his heart beating hastily. To him, it didn’t feel like the haunting of his nightmares or the blood that stains his hand as he feels himself being guided by the river he knows. This time, the river felt as if an old friend; comfort. It made him feel safe within the river when all he knew was the angry cries and screams and the blood that washes away in Fury's instance of the icy water.

His inner demons were clawing at his head right now. He can’t think or sense what his directions are. All Bucky could see at the moment was the blind rage of red but he couldn’t move for some reason. His breath was shaky and heavy, he needed to move otherwise Bucky is going to crumple anything that gets in his way. He needs to find a way to stop the voices to stop screaming. His thoughts and the voices swelled in silence feeling an intruder at his side. Bucky whipped his head to the side to see you all curled up to his left arm, the cold metal arm giving you some type of coolness against the hotness of many blankets that surrounds you.

Bucky’s eyes were soft and gentle. He carefully pushed back a few strands of hair behind your ear, you always found a way to make room in his ice steel heart. Somehow, you always calmed down the voices, he can hear the voices coos, and whispers as they talk about you, and only you. every part of him was hot. It was too overwhelming how much love Bucky felt whenever he’s with you. He never wanted to let go. Slowly, Bucky wrapped his arms around you, letting you fall into his chest as if you’re the missing puzzle piece to his puzzle map. The moment was relaxing until you stirred in your sleep, Bucky froze. You rubbed your eyes sleepily, snuggling in your boyfriend’s body warmth. A smile etched onto your face as you look up at Bucky.

“Hey there bubs, what’s on your mind?” Drowsiness in your tone, pressing a kiss to his jawline. Bucky grunted in approval. His shoulders are visibly relaxing.

“Mm ‘s nothing Doll,” he whispered. Rubbing your back and down, wrapping his metal arm around your waist, flushing you even closer than ever.

Sitting straight up, the blanket falling off your shoulders. You tilted your head and a pout formed on your face. Your hair is messy. Bucky couldn’t help but coo at the sight.

“It’s nothing when you’re breathing heavily and you’re being tensed beside me,” you said, intertwining his fleshed hand with yours. Kissing each knuckle of his.

Bucky sighed

“I’ve been thinking…” he said in thought

You’d waited patiently with him. Anytime he was like this, you’re always there by his side, always waiting patiently. He was thankful for how patient and understanding you were. It made him trust you and ensured him that you won’t be leaving out of his life, or at least he hopes so.

“After what hydra did to me, how much shit I had to go through. With you by my side, even after so many fights, breakdowns, and moments between us. I still can’t process how you’re still with me. Just you here is shocking for me…” Bucky said quietly, his voice dried from crying silently.

Your eyes were full of love as Bucky peered into your eyes. Shifting in Bucky’s hold to sit in his lap, you held his face in your hands. Kissing the tears away, you raked your fingers through his short disheveled hair. Caressing so tenderly, Bucky leaned closer. Your touches were so light and feathery that he couldn’t help but lean into it, wanting more.

“No matter how much you had gone through, no matter how you think you are broken inside or out. I’ll always, always, be there with you by your side.” You promised

Feeling so light-headed by how much love Bucky has received from you, he exhales a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. Nuzzling into your neck, he sobs. You waited until he came down from his breakdown, rubbing his back up and down soothingly. Whispering but sweet promises and words into his ear, only for him to hear. You hugged him as tight as you could, knowing how much Bucky needed this. It went on for a while. An hour or so had passed but you didn’t care. As long as you were holding Bucky in your arms, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but comfort him. No matter what, you’re not gonna lose him nor ever leave by his side. Sniffling into your arms, Bucky groaned. Aching from how stiff his muscles are, but he didn’t care. He needed you to hold him tight. He never knew how much closure he needed until he met you.

Just thinking about all the memories Bucky and you had gone through together made his heart swell. He remembers how you would scrunch up after trying out the vodka for the first time when you had an assigned mission by Tony at Russia about some leading evidence. How you would dance in your pajamas in the Stark tower kitchen while jamming to your favorite song as you cook breakfast for yourself. Bucky remembers how you had defended him when the new recruits of shield agents behind his back. How you would prank Sam and Clint whenever you felt mischievous, oh how he helped you pranked them. Bucky smiled watching you laugh at how priceless Sam and Clint’s reactions were and he remembers how he watched you running away as Sam and Clint chased you around. Almost pushing Tony into a wall by accident.

Recalling the memories of you taking care of Sam’s nephews and how caring and motherly you were towards them. You’d always make sure they are properly fed and taken care of whenever Sam took his nephews to visit your guy’s apartment. Bucky saw how much kids meant to you, how you adored each kid you meet. You were such a mother figure, to not only kids but adults as well. He rolled his eyes when he remembered how you were a mother hen towards Tony, Natasha, Bruce, and Loki when they cause such a reckless mess. He could hear how you would always ground them teasingly—with their time-out corner hats. Bucky laughed at the hilarious sight.

Bucky wonders how you would act as a mother if you and he had kids of your own. Bucky blushed at the thought. You would be such a good mother to your own kids. A possessive feeling was deep down in his stomach he knew all too well. Maybe….Just maybe….Would you like to start a family? No, no, no, he knew you would like to start a family. But, would you like to start a family with him? Bucky’s thoughts were cut off when he felt you leaning away from his touch.

“...Mmm’ Doll?” Bucky grunted

You stilled before relaxing. Instinctively reaching out to play with his hair. Bucky grunted in approval.

“Yes, Buck?”

“I need to confess you about something…” Bucky said under his breath. You nodded your head, waiting for him to speak up.

“...” It took a moment but Bucky opened his mouth.

“How would you feel about starting a family, with me that is.”

“We’ve been together for almost five years together and I know how much you’ve talked about wanting to start a family when we grow old but we never founded the right time,”

“I just thought that if you want, we could start trying. I mean...You don’t have to,”

“I just don’t want you to feel pressured or do anything you do want to do—”

You interrupted Bucky with peppering kisses to his face. You teased him; planting kisses anywhere but his lips, Bucky whined. Snickering, you kissed him. Bucky tilted your chin for better access to kiss you, pouring all his love into the kiss. You both pulled away breathlessly, needing a breath for air. You stared at Bucky’s crystal blue eyes with a teary smile on your face. Bucky’s face contorted in concern.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you quickly shouted, startling Bucky. His blue eyes widened.

“Doll... ‘S okay, you don’t have to say feel like you have to say yes because of me” he frowned

You rolled your eyes, bringing Bucky into a chaste kiss. You put your forehead to his and closed your eyes, sighing heavily

“Buck, we’ve been together for almost six years and we’ve been through so much shit together and at first we thought we were going to fall apart but here we are, going at it strong and more determined than we were before.”

“I saw the way you gazed at me whenever I took care of Sam’s nephews whenever Sam had a mission. The way you longed for a family, how you always wanted—for us to start our own family. And I gotta say, as much as I joked about starting a family in the past,”

“I think I’m ready…” You whispered

Inside, you felt relieved and quite cheerful about starting a family with your lover. Just smiling at the thought of having your own kids running around in your guy’s home, something lit up inside of you about becoming a mother. You just knew you guys would be falling like the stars ever since you met those crystal blue eyes across the meeting room with Fury. Placing your hands on his chest, looking down. Bucky crept his hands up, intertwining with yours on his chest near his heart. Bucky felt happy knowing you agreed to start a family with him. His possessive side never felt this happy before and it was soaring hot inside his stomach; along with millions of butterflies fluttering deep down.

“Well why don’t we get started now?” he smirked. His crystal blue eyes darkened.

Standing up, Bucky lifted you off the couch. Your eyes widened in surprised feeling Bucky manhandling you with one arm; tossing you onto his shoulders. You squealed when you felt a hand against your ass. Bucky chuckled as he headed towards your guy’s shared bedroom.

Biting your lip for the anticipation that about to happen in your guy’s bedroom as you sat on the bed with Bucky hovering over your neck with love bites. You couldn’t wait to start a family with him; Bucky more so than you.

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years

Text

Pomegranate Seeds 3

well we got some BIG projecting going on here. if yall didn’t know i had mommy issues before, you sure as fuck do now 😂😂😂

Warnings: insecure Jask, allusions to verbally abusive/manipulative parents, lmao rebellious jask, good ole miscommunication between jask and geralt - but solved quickly, lol swearing

___________

Letter after letter reached Jaskier in the underworld, and time after time, he destroyed them. He didn’t tell Geralt, telling himself it was because the ruler of the underworld had more important things to deal with. He didn’t want to admit he was scared Geralt would send him packing.

Eventually, Demeter resorted to threats. Threats of famine that she followed through on. She underestimated just how like her Jaskier was, though. He didn’t dignify her tantrum with a response.

When she sent messengers, he started to worry.

He told Charon to alert him, not Geralt, if another god or goddess came to visit, even one of the more senior demigods. He didn’t want to take any chances. Geralt didn’t need to know anyway.

But Geralt noticed something was off.

Jaskier would say he was tired, or he couldn’t perfect a specific verse of the song he was writing. Usually it worked, but it was only ever a salve, never a cure, for Geralt’s suspicions.

“What’s wrong, love?” Geralt cradled him in his lap, lounging in the now lavish courtyard under the pomegranate tree Jaskier had brought back from the brink of death.

Jaskier nuzzled closer, “I’m just ti-”

“No, I asked you what’s wrong,” Geralt insisted, giving him a gentle squeeze and placing a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s nothing,” Jaskier lied, hoping the sigh he accidentally let slip didn’t register, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Geralt hummed and went quiet for a moment before he curled a bit tighter around Jaskier and whispered, “Do you want to go home?”

Jaskier scrambled up, sputtering and terrified, “Did she get to you?!” When Geralt just looked at him with an unreadable expression he started to panic, feeling hot tears welling up in his eyes as he did his best to keep his voice steady, “Don’t send me back. Please, Geralt. Anything but that.”

“I’d never,” Geralt soothed, standing and hesitantly reaching for Jaskier’s hand.

He eyed the offer warily, sniffing and trying to calm himself, “Then why would you say that?”

“I thought you were unhappy. You’ve been… acting strange.”

Jaskier ignored Geralt’s outstretched hand, choosing to wrap himself around Geralt’s torso and bury his face in the crook of his neck, “I’m sorry. I’ll be better tomorrow. It’s just, uhm. I’m just a bit off.”

Geralt instinctively held him tighter, “Jaskier I want you to be happy, not ‘better’.”

Jaskier just hummed, swallowing back his unshed tears.

“Who were you talking about?”

For a moment, Jaskier had to remind himself to breathe before he could respond, “Hm?”

“You asked if someone had ‘gotten’ to me?”

Tears spilled regardless of Jaskier’s best efforts, “My mother. She wants me to come back. She’s been sending letters and messengers.”

“And you don’t want to?”

“Never,” Jaskier insisted, “This is the most freedom I've ever had. I don’t have to hide in the treetops to feel any sense of calm, I get to make decisions, I make things grow when I want, for whom I want.”

Geralt ran a hand over his hair, resting it at the base of his skull and brushing his thumb through the little hairs behind his ear, “You don’t ever have to leave. I love you. I want you here.”

“I love you too,” Jaskier whispered, “I’m just scared.”

Geralt gently pushed him back just enough to look into his eyes, “There’s a way you could stay forever…”

The hopeful glint in his eyes told Geralt everything he needed to know, so he continued, “If you eat even one pomegranate seed you will be tethered to the underworld. You can stay and do whatever pleases you. But it is irreversible. One bite and your fate is forever tied to this place.”

Jaskier thought about it for a moment, searching Geralt’s eyes for something, anything, that could make the decision for him, “I could never leave?”

“Only if the both of us willed it and only for a short time,” Geralt explained, tenderly wiping his tears away, “I could never keep you here if you were miserable. Try as I might to think about anything else, your happiness consumes much of my thoughts.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s touch, turning his head to kiss his palm, “Do I need to decide right now?”

Geralt kissed his forehead, “Of course not. It’s just an option.”

“Okay,” Jaskier sighed, curling his fingers around the robes cascading down Geralt’s back, “I like it - the idea. I just… I want to take my time?”

“Absolutely.”

Time wasn’t something Jaskier was allowed apparently.

The two of them were just climbing out of a lovely bath when a chattering skeleton announced the arrival of a visitor.

Demeter stood in the throne room with her back turned to them, examining one of the glowing diamonds when they entered. She looked so small, almost insignificant. Her hair was in an intricate braid, she wore a cream toga, adorned with gold that made her look more like a savior than the horror she really was.

Jaskier gripped Geralt’s hand tightly and pulled them to a halt, knowing very well Demeter wanted him to speak first. It was a stand off he was familiar with. If he spoke first she had the upper hand, hearing his tone and picking apart his words. She always knew how particular her son was with words.

“Julek. It’s time to go.”

Her voice echoed off the stone walls as she calmly stated her order, not even bothering to turn and look at him.

Jaskier took a deep breath and squeezed Geralt’s hand, not looking at him for fear of crying, “No.”

“Playtime is over. You have duties. The humans did not prepare for you to leave. They’re calling it winter,” she snorted as if the idea was as ridiculous as standing on your head in a temple.

Jaskier grit his teeth, feeling the rage bubble up in his chest, “I don’t care.”

“Clearly,” She rounded on him with a condescending look of disappointment, “It doesn’t matter if you care. They’re still your responsibility.”

Jaskier took a step forward, “A responsibility you assigned me. You fixed it before, fix it now.”

“I cant.”

“Tough shit.”

Jaskier wasn’t sure how any of his words were coming out without sounding absolutely hysterical, but he was glad for it. He glared at her, daring her to try again while internally he was scrambling for a plan.

“For this particular magic, I need you. Seasons will take more work than a year round harvest, but you have set them off nonetheless.” Demeter’s voice was softer than usual, though Jaskier didn’t miss the incincerity of her words. She’d raised him. He knew her, probably better than she knew herself for all the introspection she refused to take part in, and he knew she was playing games.

"Oh? Are you no longer capable?" Jaskier laughed bitterly as he turned to walk toward the courtyard, "The great goddess of plenty and harvest can't sustain what she's built? Unfortunate. I am good at what I do here. I am so good at caring about the souls that end up in our audience-"

"Our!?"

"DONT interrupt me," Jaskier shouted, turned and stomped his heel into the ground making vines burst forth from the marble beneath them, wrapping around Demeter's waist and mouth, "I have also found I'm rather adept at torture when necessary. I love it down here! I love being able to right wrongs and show the righteous to Elysium. I love having a purpose to my actions, not just being someone's unappreciated trophy! And I love Geralt. He treats me so well and loves me so sweetly and wants only to make me happy. Nothing about your 'seasons' and 'bringing life' interests me in the slightest, Demeter. Because that's not who I am. I am rage and justice and I am to be feared, not manipulated. Take your failing crops and go." Jaskier waved a hand dismissively and the vines disappeared back into the ground.

Without looking back, he strode toward the pomegranate tree in the center of the garden, plucking a fruit from the nearest branch and turning to glare at his mother. Geralt was hot on his heels, glancing between the two but keeping quiet. Jaskier had told him he wanted to confront her himself, without her thinking he’d been told what to say. So Geralt stood by and seethed.

Jaskier pulled a knife from the holster in Geralt’s belt and sliced a nice section out of the pomegranate.

“Don’t you dare.” Demeter snarled, standing at the edge of the courtyard.

Jaskier smirked and peeled the white fiber from the blood red seeds with a casual sigh, “I don’t think your opinion matters much here.”

Jaskier flipped the knife in the air and caught it by the blade, maintaining eye contact with Demeter as he handed it back to Geralt.

“Are you sure?” Geralt’s voice was just a whisper as he took the blade.

Jaskier picked a particularly dark red seed from it’s home and turned to look at him, “There’s absolutely nowhere else I’d rather be, my love.”

With that he popped the seed in his mouth.

#geraskier #geraskier greek mythology au #geraskier greek mythology #geralt as hades #jaskier as persephone #hades and persephone #geraskier fic #geraskier au #the witcher fic #the witcher au #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt #jask #jullian alfred pankratz #god i wish i had a greek god sugar daddy to live with like jask so i could throw down like this #but alas #i live in reality

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ljsarts · 3 years

Text

Hades Au: Persephones Descent (AU info under the cut)

[Id: A drawing of Persephone from the Supergiant game Hades. she has blong hair braided with green ribbons and laurel leaves in shades of red to yellow. Her expression is of rage with intense low lighting, she's wearing a tunic, skull pauldrons, a green cloak and has red lava like markings up her arms. The background is a gradient with the text "Hades, where's my son"/end id]

Persephone's descent : An Au

This Au begins with Zagreus living above . He is in turn stolen back to the house of Hades and best mom™ Persephone is incredibly pissed off and ready to kick ass.

Thematically wise this merges the themes of the original game , original lore used in game + the sort of relationship shown in the Bridge production of midsummer night's dream between titania and Oberon. (For Hades and Persephone that is).

Things that remain the same: -

-Orpheus' failed attempt to get Eurydice free.

-Zeus' kidnapping of Persephone.

-Hades and Persephone did in the past truly growing to love each other , enough to have Zag together.

What changes:-

shortly before Zag is born Persephone asks to go back to the surface. She fears a new god's presence appearing in the house of Hades if detected by the Olympians could set off an investigation and then war. She says with Nyx’s help they can hide between the Olympians and the house of Hades alongside the river styx away from prying eyes. She also fears that if he is born in the realm of the dead what that will do to him as a baby , she thinks the only way he can live is to be born on the surface.

Hades is the one truly trapped as he cannot follow where Persephone treads, at first he hates the idea but as the days go by and zags birth approaches he realises it's what's best much to his disgruntlement. He asks Nyx to sneak Persephone out of the house to make her believe it is not his wishes but that she has to go anyway and to not return for all of their sakes.

Zag is born by the Styx he lives a life in the cottage they build there together , every now and then Zag sees a green mist in the distance when a farmer collapses or a elder in the village just off the coast passes away peacefully , the green ghostly figure does not cross the threshold of the cottages walls, does not step into the thriving bountiful gardens only watches . green with envy .

Every now and then Charon visits sparingly bringing news from Hades or Hermes bringing news from the Olympians all seems well in the in-between.

One night Zagreus strays too far from the cottage and it's warm green fields, the green ghostly figure he follows further along the clifftops , past the sea dowsed orange with the sunset to a small clearing covered in snow and pillar after pillar after pillar and before him a door taller than any building he's seen before.

Zagreus disappears that night , the next morning Charon arrives early before Persephone can even wake , she arises to aggressive banging on her front door like a drum , Hermes is there as well with Grave news that Zagreus has arrived in the underworld , he's gone.

Persephone is grief stricken till the duo tell her no hes not dead but he has been taken , stolen by Hades and Persephone is pissed. She gathers whatever she has I'm talking sickle, pitchfork, a tonne of pomegranates , the boons of one speedy lad and whatever Charon can sell her.

Alternatively the boons she gains along the way could be from the cythonic gods excluding Hades whom are wanting to help Persephone.

Persephone gets the help of those she encounters along the way who are posted up to slow her down which is :-

-Cerberus:

Whom she's so angry is being used a s a gaurd dog he's a good boy who doesn't deserve to be stuck at the doorway waiting.

- Achilles and Patroclus In Elysium

Whom Hades has reunited so they can fight together in the arena against Persephone . Once beaten and finding out what Persephone is here for they both agree to help her , they know two well, one person who wants a "demon spawn" out of the underworld who'd be happy to help her get out of Elysium

(This is Asterius and Theseus)

-In Asphodel rather than Eurydice (who's in the house) it's Orpheus who sides with Persephone's Lament at having to leave behind the one person they love the most because of doubt. He tells her about Eurydice and how she now resides in the house of Hades and how he wishes more than anything to be reunited with her , Persephone offers to take him to her .

*Orpheus joined the party*

-In Tartarus we meet Sisyphus who confesses to chatting with Thanatos who was full of remorse for leading Zag into the house of Hades but couldn't go against Hades demands I mean he's his boss and it's not like he killed zag or anything.

- we get to the back door to the house , skelly almost sets off the alarm but with Cerberus stealing skelly jaw bone he can't really make much noise to alert the rest of the house , with the cover of Nyx and the blind eye of Thanatos Persephone almost has Zagreus back when Megeara spots her and alerts Hades .

-Either that or alternatively Orpheus rushes to Eurydice and the commotion alerts the house to them. Meg is watching over Zag trying to keep a distance between themselves / not get overly familiar "it's nothing personal just business"

Other rambles-

Hades kept Eurydice around instead or Orpheus as Orpheus always sings about lost love and heartbreak and separation . Whereas Eurydice sings about finality , Hades often asks her to sing the song she wrote herself "Good Riddance" , he finds it soothes the souls entering Tartarus and his own.

Zags been trapped in the room Hades had made for him before they'd left , and Zag spends the time it takes Persephone to descend into hell learning about the father he never knew he had.

We enter phase two : I will lovingly call

"Custody negotiations ".

-Persephone is here and she's livid and not leaving without her son

-Hades tells her that Olympus was getting too close to their cottage to finding out about their son he had to come back to the house for all their sakes

- Zagreus wants to leave , Persephone wants him to leave to

- they argue ALOT

-zag gets aquanted with Dusa, Hypno and Cerberus

-when Persephone mentions the constant winter minus their grove Hades realises something is wrong and they need to fix it , Persephone demands due court . All the members of the house must come together and decide / figure out how to inform Olympus of Zags existence so that they may go back to the surface without fear or if it's truly fucked atleast stay underground till it's better

#hades spoilers #hades #persephone #hades au #Persephone's descent

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

You Can STAY - Part 11

F/M Main Pairing: Y/N x Lee Felix (Side Pairing: Y/N x Stray Kids)

Genre: Fantasy AU; Scarlet Heart AU; OT8 SKZ

Warnings: Language; SMUT; very angsty feelings

Summary: King Felix takes the throne and Y/N makes a difficult choice.

Tag List: @angelphantomlove @moonlightracha @jjabbur @pinkchcn @straykidbaby @moonnstars90 @dru-shadow @skzooyeet @poutypoutybin

It’s impossible to escape Felix.

The weight of his actions and words hold me hostage in a Castle where I no longer felt like I belonged.

In the days following his ascension to the throne, I’ve watched his brothers leave their home, standing outside on the balcony behind Felix while Chan, Jisung, and Jeongin retreat into the distance. On the inside, I’m furious, observing the scene of unexpected cruelty; although, the fate of his brothers is certainly incomparable to the nightmarish decision he made regarding the former Queens of the Castle, including his own mother.

This was a Felix who I could barely comprehend, one who had been unraveled from the inside, leaving only the harsher parts of himself to remain.

But the heart beating inside my chest did not seem to understand that Felix had changed in those subtle ways, and despite my protest in delaying our marriage yet again, I couldn’t stay away from him long. In fact, after only a few nights of excusing myself to the Queens’ former chambers, I returned to Felix’s bed one evening after another frightening vision in which I saw a Felix painted with blood, streaking across the mural of his freckles, and standing in stark contrast to the murderous look in his eyes.

This was a Felix who I had abandoned, and I couldn’t stand the thought of causing Felix to unravel any further.

So, I gave in to my heart’s demands, and I listened to the warnings from that vision, and I approached Felix in the middle of the night wearing only a loose gown that swept the floor with every tentative step.

“Felix,” I whispered into the darkness of the room.

“Y/N,” his voice grumbled in return, husky with sleep.

I took his acknowledgment as an invitation, crawling next to him in bed. “I missed you,” I said, and then Felix was on top of me, kissing his way past all the heavy tension that had laid between us for so long.

“You came back,” was all he said before slim fingers danced their way across the bare skin of my thighs, twisting themselves into the hem of my panties before rolling the fabric down my legs and onto the floor. “Mine,” he soothed, tongue forcing its way into my mouth as he shuffled his sleep pants down to his knees, freeing his cock.

“Please,” I gasped, arching my back in premature celebration when he teased the slit of his erection between my puffy folds.

“You’ll beg me, Y/N,” Felix growled, and I didn’t have the position to deny him, especially now that he had all the power.

“I’ll do anything, Felix,” I cried, grinding myself down the best that I could to feel the friction of his hard cock teasing my sex, even if it was still not enough. “I want you more than anything!”

“Then you’ll marry me,” Felix insisted, and I could hardly fathom his persistence.

“Yes,” I agreed, almost on instinct despite my promise to stay strong until he brought back his brothers from their undeserved exile.

But I gave in to my heart and desire instead.

“Such a good girl,” he said, and he slid his cock inside, groaning low under his breath at the tight squeeze of my cunt, holding him as close as possible.

“Felix,” I said. “Faster.”

“Of course, my queen,” he said, and my heart did a strange somersault at the idea of being his queen, a softer sentiment that was lost in the next moment when he started pounding his hips against mine, drawing back out to the tip before pressing forward with powerful thrusts that moved me up and down the bed with the rapid pace of our fucking.

His fingers toyed with my clit, squeezing and rubbing harshly at the engorged bud, throbbing under his persistent touch and the heat building between my legs as the fiery friction of our connection grew to a boiling point, an explosion of his name across my lips as I fell apart under the one man who was meant to keep me together.

The priest wore a smug smile, looking between the two of us with a nonchalant shrug. “You cannot marry,” he said. “According to our laws, the new queen must be untouched by marks, and there are plenty of scars on Y/N.”

I froze, recalling with stunning clarity what seemed like years ago when I was beaten and punished for my supposed crime of trying to poison Minho. Of course, I was innocent on the matter, but my pleas for help went unanswered, and the guards who were put in charge of extracting a guilty word from me had been particularly brutal.

“That wasn’t her fault,” Felix growled.

“The scars are still there,” the priest said, and I sat back in my chair, defeated once again.

The next morning, I went on a walk by myself, upset by the previous day’s reckoning, and the knowledge that Felix was still unraveling, further still, now that the possibility of our union was completely rendered obsolete.

It was a lot to think about, and I was lost in my mind for a long time, wandering the perimeter of the gardens. For a while, I lingered on Felix’s expression of pure rage from our conversation with the priest because, for a split second, I was certain that he would demand the man’s death.

But Felix refrained. For now, at least.

“What can I do?” I wondered aloud, to stop him from sinking even lower?

“You can’t do anything,” a voice whispered from beyond my subconscious, and I paused at the edge of the forest, not realizing that I had traveled so far, to look at Jisung straight in his eyes.

“Jisung!” I gasped, immediately launching myself into his arms. “Are you well?”

“I’m okay,” he reassured me, and I pulled back with a start.

“If Felix sees you here...”

“Relax,” Jisung smiled. “I don’t intend to stay long. I only wish to talk with you.”

“Me?” I repeated.

“You,” Jisung agreed with a teasing lilt. “Come on.”

I hesitated only a for a moment, glancing back over my shoulder at the Castle, before following Jisung further into the woods. “Where are we going?”

“Not far,” Jisung said, and I knew that I could trust him, listening to the sounds of the leaves crunching beneath our steps when Jisung made an abrupt turn that brought us to the side of the worn path that led between the village and Kingdom beyond our own. It was quiet and well-hidden, and I leaned in closer to Jisung as he observed our surroundings before releasing a sigh. “You need to leave the Castle.”

I blinked in response, at first, looking at Jisung like he might suddenly start laughing at any moment and proclaim his order as a joke.

But he didn’t.

“I can’t leave him,” I said. “He’s volatile.”

“He relies on his emotions too much,” Jisung agreed. “And you bring out his most powerful ones.”

I frowned, hating the truth behind his words. “I love him.”

“I know,” Jisung said, and he gave me a meaningful look. “You need to leave him because of those feelings.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said, and I resented Jisung in that moment, acting like such a decision could be made so easily.

“Felix needs to be King,” Jisung said. “He’s the only one who makes sense.”

“Why?” I huffed. “You’re suddenly fond of him?”

Jisung flinched at the comment. “He has allies in the North, and Chan and I received a visit from Hyunjin this morning. The South favors Felix because of his military background.”

“You saw Hyunjin?” I exhaled.

Jisung nodded. “He had to leave again. Something urgent came up, but he wants to return and see you...” Jisung trailed off, studying me like he was waiting for an opportunity. “He’ll only be able to see you outside of the Castle.”

I rolled my eyes at his insistence. “This is Chan’s idea, isn’t it?”

“Chan knows nothing about this.”

I took a step back, surprised by the admission. “What?”

“Y/N, Felix will leave the throne for you,” Jisung said, and it dawned on me then, the reason why he wanted me to leave.

“You know that we can’t be married.”

“I had my suspicions,” Jisung admitted. “The Castle is steeped in tradition, and future queens...well...they can’t be-”

“Flawed,” I finished for him. “Like me with my scars.”

Jisung lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”

I shook from the very inside of my soul, realizing the gravity of what I needed to do for the Kingdom. “I can’t ever be married.”

“If you leave here with me, then we can marry each other,” Jisung said. “The tradition only applies to our Kings, and Minho gave me permission when he was still in power, just in case anything were to happen to Felix. He wanted to make sure that you could still be happy.”

I swallowed hard, and my heart ached for a man who was gone. “Why would we marry?”

Jisung gave me a sheepish smile. “We can live together, in a village outside of the kingdom without suspicion.”

“With Chan and Jeongin?”

“No, they’ll remain here and watch over Felix.”

I stiffened. “Are they okay with that?”

Jisung sighed. “Everything is already planned, Y/N. All we need now...”

“Is me,” I concluded, rubbing my hands together even though it wasn’t cold. “I need to leave the Castle.”

Jisung nodded again, and I was grateful when he remained quiet once the tears started to fall freely of their own accord.

It was dark when I returned to the Castle, discovering Felix pacing in our shared room when I arrived.

“There you are!” he exclaimed, eliminating the space between us to accept me into his arms with a gentle kiss. “I almost sent the guards out!”

“I just needed a walk to clear my head,” I said, carefully extracted myself from his arms to wander over to the balcony.

Felix followed me outside. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

“Just some thoughts,” I said, gazing out over the Castle grounds.

“Thoughts?” Felix questioned, and I was relieved by his warm presence from behind.

“You need to lead the Kingdom,” I said. “I think you’ll be a great King.”

Felix chuckled, brushing a soft kiss across my cheek. “With you by my side.”

My heart clenched at the sentiment. “Felix, if we can’t marry, would you stay on the throne?”

There was silence for a moment following my question before Felix turned me around to face him. “I’ll figure out a way, Y/N.”

“But not at the risk of vacating the throne?”

Felix looked away, but there was a brief flicker in his eyes that told me everything I needed to know. Enough to validate Jisung’s arguments and my worst doubts. “There’s no need to worry.”

“Felix,” I finally said. “I need to leave.”

“Leave?” Felix laughed as if I had just told him the funniest joke. “Where do you get these ideas from?”

“When I leave,” I said, continuing on as if he had never interrupted. “You must promise me that you’ll stay and be a good king.”

Felix’s laughter died in an instant. “Y/N, are you serious?”

“Does it look like I’m not?” I returned, and Felix’s entire expression shifted into something frenzied and uncontrolled, using both hands to squeeze at my arms.

“I’ll abandon the throne!” Felix roared, but I only met his gaze calmly.

“No you won’t,” I replied. “You know that you can’t.”

Felix growled, releasing me and resuming his incessant pacing. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“To ensure that you’ll do the right thing.”

“The right thing,” Felix enunciated. “Is being with you.”

I sighed, watching as he fell apart. “I see.”

Because it was obvious to me that I would have to leave without saying goodbye, and that hurt worse than anything else ever could.

“You’re talking nonsense,” Felix said, and he reached out for my hand to pull me back inside our room. “We’ll finish this in the morning after we’ve both had time to clear our heads.”

I simply nodded, allowing my silence to put him back together again as best as I could. Meanwhile, Felix brought me next to him in our shared bed, pressing kisses into my hair and whispering nonsensical words, and I allowed him to do that too because this was our final night together, and I wanted him to remember me as the one person who had always been on his side.

It was approaching midnight and Felix’s breathing had leveled off into soft snores. It was the perfect opportunity to leave the comfortable embrace of his arms, packing only what I thought was essential before wandering out onto the balcony once again.

Below me, waiting in the coverage of the bushes, was Jisung. I waved my hand at him and waited for his acknowledgement before tossing down my belongings. He caught them easily, and I used my magic to help levitate me down to where Jisung was waiting.

From there, he brought me to the woods where two stallions had been tied to the large trunks of the trees. “You planned well,” I remarked, and then we both ensured that my things were secure.

“Did you tell him anything?” Jisung asked at one point, but I shook my head because it was easier than the truth.

“He’ll do the right thing,” I promised, and Jisung seemed satisfied, helping me onto my horse with a grunt.

“Let’s go,” Jisung said, and I waited until he was also properly situated before following him once again into the deeper coverage of the foliage, rushing further and further away from the Castle.

There were still some doubts lingering at the back of my head because I had always thought the answer was to stay with Felix, but I had been wrong. I was the problem, and when I left the Castle with Jisung that night, I looked back only once and wished all the best for the man I loved.

Dear Felix,

By the time you read this, I will have already gone.

It pains me to part from you at such a crucial hour, but I have no other choice.

We have no other choice.

Do not look for me. Worry about being a good king. Rule the kingdom as I would wish for you to rule. Fair and true.

Leave the rest to fate, and keep your distance from your brothers. No more of your bloodline should be sacrificed.

Yours always,

Y/N

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #felix fanfic #felix smut #lee felix fanfic #lee felix smut #felix imagines #felix scenarios #felix series #stray kids x y/n #felix x y/n #scarlet heart au #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids felix fanfic #mostlycompetent

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

Coach Cavill - Chapter 8

Summary: What did Dean do to upset the children?

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.6k

Warnings: None

A/N: I loved that the overall message of your reaction was that Dean is an idiot (and then I haven’t even talked about the pitchfork and the emergency dagger 😂😂)

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

This was definitely not how I expected our first date to go. I haven’t spoken to Henry the second we got back in his truck. While we’re might not be talking, I don’t want him to leave either. He stops in front of my house and I look to the side. ‘Could you wait?’ I ask him.

Henry nods, looking so handsome, even in the dim light of the street lights. ‘I’ll be right here when you need me.’

I have to take a deep breath, before I step out of the car. I hate facing Dean, but hearing how upset Benji was and how Isabella just stopped talking, indicated he really did something shitty. I should be a good mom and confront him about this. I confronted him during Benji’s match, so how hard can this be, right?

I close the car door behind me and walk up to Dean, who is standing in front of my porch as he turns around. ‘According to Eve, the kids were pretty upset. What happened?’ I ask him.

Dean checks me out, glancing at me, up and down. I remember that I used to love it when he checked me out when I would walk into the room. He would always show me off, whispering dirty secrets in my ear when we were in public and telling everyone that he had the most beautiful wife.

What happened to those times?

I genuinely thought we were happy and were going to last forever.

‘You look—’

‘Just answer my question, Dean,’ I interrupt him. ‘Really, we are way passed those days that we could give one another compliments or whatever about each other.’

He simply shrugs and from the looks of it, he is not feeling good. He looks tired, and a little tense. As if I should care about that. He is a grown man, he can handle is own problems. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘You honestly can’t possibly think that that will work? Your it’s nothing is what set our divorce in motion in the first place. Tell me, what happened that you got them this upset. You had the kids for what? Two hours? I mean, even for you that’s a record.’

Yes, Amelia, stab him where it hurts. I know that it annoys the shit out of him that the kids are rather at my place than at his.

Dean clenches his jaw and looks away. ‘Mindy is pregnant.’

Is this what it feels like when your soul leaves your body? This turning of the world, the way the air in my lungs is knocked out of it? ‘She is what?’ I ask him, but I start to shake my head. ‘No, wait, don’t repeat that. I heard you. This is… Why… How… Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘I’m not,’ Dean says and he is dead serious, ‘and our children were very rude about it.’

He really doesn’t get it, does he? ‘You really are not fit to be a parent, are you?’ I laugh out of disbelieve. I’m trying to find the words to say to him, but nothing seems to come out. ‘I don’t even know what to say to you.’ I turn around and beckon Henry. I throw him my keys and tell him to see if the kids are okay and if Eve needs any help.

Henry walks passed us, causing Dean to be flabbergasted, to say the least. ‘What the—’

‘Dean, this is the time where you explain yourself to me, not to ask me—or worse: lecture me—about what I’m doing with my life. Why on earth do you think this is a wise thing to do? You can barely take care of the kids that are already here.’

‘You are just jealous.’

‘Jealous?’ I ask, causing me to laugh. ‘You really are something. How on earth can I be jealous of what you have now?’ I hear something clatter in my home and I let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Are you fucking happy now?’ I ask him. ‘I think it’s for the best that you go home and I will talk to the kids. I’ll text you when they are ready to talk to you.’ I rush into my house and see that Henry has managed to calm Benji down, whose fists unclench and he leans with his head against his coach’ strong chest. I hear him mutter something under his breath and while Henry seems to understand it, I don’t.

Isabella walks up to me and I lift her up, wrap my arms tightly around her. ‘Oh honey, how are you feeling?’

‘I don’t know,’ she whispers and if she can’t even say how she is feeling, then Dean must’ve brought it in such a manner that took both of them by complete surprise and not the good kind of surprise.

I press a gentle kiss on her temple and let out a sigh. It’s pretty busy in my house; Eve has Yara on her lap, while Lola and Jake are cleaning up the shattered vase that is spread out over the floor—good thing I hated that vase in the first place.

Soft sniffles are coming from Isabella and I try to sooth her as I walk up to Eve. ‘Mindy is pregnant,’ I mouth to her.

It turns out that she didn’t get that out from either of my kids in the time that she called me and now. ‘No way,’ she whispers.

‘Mhm.’

She shakes her head and I can already see her restraining herself from walking outside to smack Dean across his face. I walk up to Henry and Benji. ‘No, no, no,’ Henry says, holding Benji’s shoulders tightly in his hands. ‘Don’t do that. You were doing just fine. Listen to my breathing and try to copy that, okay.’

Benji seems to be on the verge of a breakdown again and I place Isabella on my hip, before I hold out my arm. Benji nearly knocks me over, as he clings to me. ‘You’re doing good,’ I whisper.

‘I hate him,’ he mumbles against my shoulder.

‘I know.’

Isabella gives me a kiss on my cheek and whispers: ‘I don’t want to go to dad anymore.’

‘Me neither,’ Benji quickly agrees.

‘You two don’t have to when you don’t want to,’ I say. ‘That has always been the case and that will stay that way. What you two want and think matters the most.’ I look at Isabella, who looks really tired. ‘Sweetheart, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. You want to sleep in my bed?’

‘I do,’ she whispers.

‘Then I’ll take you there,’ I say to her. ‘Benji?’

He clenches his jaw again. ‘I’ll clean some up in the kitchen. I might’ve made quite the mess there.’ I appreciate his candor and for some reason I don’t really want to see the mess he made there.

Henry pats him on his shoulder. ‘I’ll help you out, kid.’

I carry Isabella upstairs, as she softly whimpers. ‘I’m sorry, angel,’ I say to her, as I place her in my bed. I help her change out of her clothes and I grab her pajamas from her room. ‘How about you try to sleep and we will talk about it tomorrow. From the looks of it you are really tired, which I can totally understand.’

‘Okay,’ she says and I give her a kiss. ‘Will you sleep here tonight as well?’

‘My bed is big enough,’ I say, ‘so of course.’

I tuck her in and she says in a soft voice: ‘I’m sorry we interrupted your date.’

Always the sweetheart, my lovely Isabella. Despite the fact that she likes to embarrass me and told every single one of my colleagues about my date with Henry, she sure loves me a lot. ‘Don’t you worry about that. You and Benji are my number one priorities and you always will be. I love you, little chipmunk.’

‘I love you too, mom.’

‘Good night,’ I start.

Isabella smiles. ‘Sleep tight.’

And in unison we say: ‘Don’t let the bedbugs bite. See you in the morning light. Good night.’ I let out a soft laugh, before I walk out of the room. When I descend from the stairs, I see that Eve, Yara, Lola and Jake are ready to leave, since they have to get up early tomorrow. They are going to visit Johnny’s parents and ever since their retirement, they moved quite far away. I give them all a tight hug, before I look at Eve.

‘Your date sure is a keeper,’ she whispers. ‘He has known Benji for what? Almost two weeks and he knows how to calm him down from his rare rages. I have known that kid his entire life, but when he goes off like that, I know better than to rush towards him.’

‘I know,’ I say, ‘I sure as hell am lucky.’

‘You deserve it. You know, we’ll call tomorrow. Knowing Johnny’s parents, I’m stuck on horse keeping duties again.’

I chuckle. ‘Yes, we’ll talk tomorrow. Thank you for tonight.’

‘It’s what we do,’ she says, before walking out of my house to go next door.

Benji sits on the barstool in the kitchen, staring at the counter. I walk up to him and wrap my arm around his shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart,’ I say. ‘This must’ve been such a shock.’

He simply nods. ‘I don’t want another sibling,’ he says. ‘I already have a sister and she is all I need. I hate dad for doing this.’

I look over to Henry, who has been making some tea for us. He doesn’t seem surprised, so I figured Benji already told him about this. ‘You know,’ I say, ‘I can totally understand that, but… Maybe this is a way for your dad to make up to what he didn’t do for you and Isabella.’

Benji frowns. ‘What has that to do with me?’

I scrunch up my nose. ‘Nothing, really. Maybe this is too much of a positive outlook on this situation. I’m sorry, I was hoping that would make you feel better. I really don’t know what to say, Benji. Believe it or not, this is the first time something like this happened to me.’

Somehow he manages to crack out in a smile. ‘Really? You never had an ex-husband who was going to have another baby before?’

‘Well, you must feel a lot better,’ I chuckle, pressing a kiss on his temple. ‘How about we talk about it in the morning. Maybe I have some great positive thoughts to share with you.’

He nods in agreement. ‘I’m sorry about the vase and plates.’

‘Plates?’ I ask. ‘As in plural?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he says again. ‘I… I just lost it.’

‘We’ll talk about that tomorrow too, okay?’ I suggest, knowing that I can’t give him a lecture about how to deal with his emotions right now.

‘Yes, mom.’

‘I’m sorry you felt like this tonight. I know you hate it.’

He sighs. ‘Yeah… Well, I think I’m going to bed,’ he announces. ‘Thank you for being there for me. I love you.’

‘I love you too, honey.’

‘And coach,’ Benji starts, looking quite nervous, ‘I’m sorry I hit you.’

Benji hit Henry? While I’m stammering, looking for something to say, Henry smiles and simply shrugs. ‘It’s all good, Benji, no worries. I can take it.’

Benji chuckles, before walking upstairs and from what I can hear, he goes for my room. That’s going to be a full bed tonight.

Henry pushes a full cup of tea over the kitchen counter towards me, as he is standing on the opposite side of the island. ‘How are you, Amelia?’

‘I’m doing okay,’ I say, but that is probably the biggest lie of tonight. I shake my head and let out a sigh. ‘I’m not okay.’

Henry walks around the kitchen island and pushes the bar stool aside, before wrapping his strong arms around my upper body. Holding my kids tonight, was a necessity, but I never thought about how I should be held too. I mean, my ex husband is creating a new family, while it is obvious that he can’t even take care of the one he already has.

I missed the feeling of being comforted by someone who seems to care this much. I bury my face in his chest, as Henry places his chin on top of my head.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I mumble.

‘This isn’t your fault,’ he says, ‘so remember what I told you: save your apologizes for the moments that matter.’

I pull back, to wipe my eyes dry, because this makes me feel more emotional than I thought. ‘It’s just that I can’t believe that Mindy is pregnant,’ I whisper. ‘Dean barely knows his children and now he is simply going to bring another one in the mix? Like, how does he thinks this will work out?’

Henry sighs, placing his large hand on my flushed cheek. ‘I have no idea, Amelia.’

‘And you heard it, Benji really doesn’t want another one and even Isabella is on the fence now, for visiting her father. I can’t believe this, Henry. I don’t know what to do.’

‘I get that,’ he says. ‘But maybe you should just sleep on the matter for the night and then tomorrow, you and the kids and who else should talk about it.’

I sigh. ‘Could you maybe come here too?’ I ask him. ‘It’s because of the way you calmed Benji down and… You seem to really understand him and I would actually be very grateful if you’d join us. Normally Eve and Johnny would be here, but they are out of town this weekend and their kids have really been looking forward to this trip, so I don’t want to interfere with that. I just could really use someone else there as well, because I’m on the verge of breaking down again and I don’t think the kids can need that.’

He smiles. ‘Of course,’ he says. ‘I’d be honored and if you want me gone, just say so and I’ll let myself out right away.’ He tilts his head and when he notices the tears in my eyes, he pulls me in a nearly bone crushing hug. His thick arms wrapped so securely around me, it makes me feel safe and taken care of.

‘Did Benji hit you hard or…?’ I ask, as I pull back, as my hands rest on his sides.

He shakes his head. ‘He kind of latched out, but is was nothing serious.’ Henry twists a strand of my hair around his finger.

‘It’s a thing that we’ve been working on,’ I say in all honesty. ‘He can explode every now and then here at home. He barely does it, mostly once a year, something like that. This year however, he has been having hem once a month. This divorce, it’s really taking its toll on Benji.’

‘Has he ever hit you?’

I shake my head. ‘No, I usually leave him when he is having a moment like that. When I fear it’s getting out of hand, I go get Johnny or Jake, they seem to get through to him most of the time. What did you do, by the way? You seemed to calm him down instantly.’

‘Well,’ he says, ‘Benji is a lot like me and though I barely latched out like he did, I can totally understand it. Besides, he is not the first hothead I’ve encountered. Remember, I’ve been doing this judo coaching thing for sixteen years full time now.’ He places his hand in the back of my neck, a comforting action that I have seen him do with the judoka’s quite a few times. ‘I think it also helps that I know I can take it.’

‘Yeah,’ I whisper, ‘it’s just that I don’t want him to hurt anyone, but he has this now on a monthly basis, but never this intense. For fuck’s sake, I hate Dean.’

Henry nods. ‘Well, despite the interruption, I did have a lot of fun tonight.’

‘I did so too,’ I say. ‘You are quite the catch, Henry. I thought dating after a divorce would be really complicated, but you make it pretty easy.’

‘You make acclimating in a new town very easy.’ He sends me such a loving and caring smile, that I nearly melt into a puddle. ‘You have ice cream? Since we skipped dessert at the restaurant, I figure we could finish our date here.’

I smile. ‘Bottom drawer of the fridge,’ I chuckle. He walks up to the fridge and bends down to get the ice cream out of the drawer and I have to bite my lip to prevent myself from drooling. My cheeks are red by the time he stands up again. Henry has really made himself comfortable at my place and that alone is a clear sign that meeting someone like him, is going to be a once in a life time opportunity and I really shouldn’t let this go to waste.

I hoist myself up on the counter and he takes place on a stool. ‘You know,’ I say, ‘I really don’t think that Mindy is suitable to be a mom. I mean, I think she can be sweet, but she cannot be a mother already.’

‘How old is she?’

‘Twenty two,’ I say. ‘And I know that might makes me sound like a hypocrite, since I had Benji around her age, but at least I was with someone my own age and… I feel like I had reached a certain level of maturity, that I have yet to detect with her.’ I grab a spoon and take a scoop out of the carton box. ‘I honestly can’t seem to wrap my mind around the fact that Dean thought this would be a wise decision. He barely knows his own children and though our marriage was okay, he never really connected with his kids.’

Henry nods, before bringing the spoon to his lips. ‘There is this quote and it goes something like: becoming a father isn’t difficult, but it’s very difficult to be a father.’

My eyes widen. ‘If you look up Dean in a dictionary, this is the description attached to it. Oh my, I’m going to send that as a celebratory card to his new address.’

He starts to laugh. ‘You should maybe think about that,’ he suggests and I have to agree that that isn’t really the mature thing for an ex-wife to do, especially after I bitched about Mindy not reaching her level of maturity. ‘While this might not be the date we both envisioned, but I sure enjoyed it a lot.’

‘I did too,’ I say. ‘And I wouldn’t mind if we did this again sometime.’

‘I would love to,’ he says. ‘You know, I have an idea. I’ll bring breakfast tomorrow, we’ll talk about the issue and after that, we can go to the autumn market. Greg has been bugging me about it all week, so if I don’t go, he’ll probably ban me from the store.’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘Well, I absolutely adore the autumn market, so I would love to go and I know the kids will too. Please bring Kal with you, okay?’

‘Dogs are allowed?’

‘They are,’ I say. ‘And I know that Isabella would love it.’

We somehow finish the entire box of ice cream in a very short amount of time—and I might have something to do with that, because I’m a professional emotional eater—and Henry announces he should go home, so he can take Kal out for a night walk. I walk him to the front door and though he is already standing on my porch, he turns around to give me a tight hug. ‘Remember,’ he whispers, ‘whatever you decide to do, whatever the kids decide to do, it’ll be a good decision.’

I nod against his chest. ‘I’ll try and remember that.’

‘Breakfast muffins?’ he asks.

‘Please, buy them in every single flavor. We Jung’s are known for being able to love every single muffin flavor.’

‘I’ll go to the bank first, crank up my loan.’

I slap him across his stomach and he pretends to double over. Because he is leaned over, his face is very close to mine. I don’t even think, but I press a kiss on his cheek. ‘See you tomorrow, coach Cavill.’

Henry smiles and from up close, it gives me some serious heart palpitations. ‘See you tomorrow, Amelia.’ He walks to his truck, as I lean in the doorway, staring as he gets in. He holds up his hand, before he drives off.

I quickly walk upstairs—no, correction: I float upstairs because of the butterflies that I haven’t felt in such a long time—and quickly change into my pajamas and remove my make-up. I go to my room, to discover that Benji and Isabella are under the covers, leaving a spot for me between them. I remember when Dean and I were still together and one night it was storming. Isabella was four and Benji was ten. First it was Isabella who ran into our room, to lay between us. Around five minutes later, Benji sneaked into our room, to lay with us, flinching every single time the thunder hit.

After Dean moved out of this house, when we all found out he was doing his intern, we would have slumber parties, every night in a different room. We would drag mattresses from one room to the other, every night, but it was our way of reminding one another that no matter where we were, we’d always be there for each other.

I crawl into the bed and manage to wiggle myself under the cover. As if we’re magnets, Isabella curls herself up in my arms and I feel Benji’s head against my shoulder. ‘I love you,’ I whisper, ‘I love you both so so much.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x amelia jung #henry cavill x asian ofc #Henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #amelia jung #asian ofc #coach!henry cavill #Coach Cavill

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fandom-blackhole · 4 years

Text

Hayloft- Ezra x Reader P.5

AN: After a bit of waiting here it is!!!! Part 5! I really love this chapter, so much so that I haven’t really edited it because I wanted to share it with you guys lol. So if you see something that doesn’t look right please tell me! Love you guys and I hope you like this chapter!

Masterlist

Words: 3.8k (almost 3.9k....this is the most I have written for one chapter lol)

Warnings: AFAB reader, descriptions of depression, mentions of attempted assault, this chapter gets a little spicy at the end so 18+ just to be safe?, that’s it we are back to fluff lol

According to the town doctor, Ezra had managed to break Tucker’s nose, two of his teeth, and fracture one of his eyesockets, while he himself on managed to get a bruised jaw, and swollen bloody and bruised fist. I, on the other hand, only suffered from a bruised forehead and cheek, miscellaneous scratches, and a bloody nose.

It had only taken about fifteen minutes before Anthony had been sent by my father to go looking for Tucker and Ezra. When he found the three of us, I am sure the scene in the barn was quite a shock. I wish I could say that I had seen his face when he realized what he was looking at, but by the time he had made his way to the back of the barn I had buried my face into Ezra’s neck as he held me and rocked us both trying to calm me down. I had heard Anthony coming, but I was too scared to look up, only clutching at Ezra’s torn shirt.

I did nothing but cling to Ezra as he told Anthony what he had stumbled upon and what he had done, spitting venomous words in Tucker’s direction and holding me close. Anthony didn’t say much and he only really grabbed my shirt that had been thrown aside and brought it towards where we both sat in the corner. Anthony had placed my shirt gently in my lap and gave me a small kiss on the top of my head, which in turn caused me to start crying again, and he then went and grabbed Tucker’s legs and dragged him out of the barn telling the two of us to that he was going to get father.

Ezra had slowly helped me to my feet and into my shirt, before grabbing my face and kissing the tears from my cheeks. Then he lead me from the barn slowly with his hand resting on the small of my back as my arms crossed across my torso holding myself tightly, my eyes not leaving the ground.

The rest of the day passed in pretty much a blur. I barely remember the doctor coming for a visit, I don’t remember how I got to the house, let alone into my room, and I don’t remember when I fell asleep.

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Once again I found myself staying in the house doing small tasks away from the others. The difference, though, was this time it was self imposed. I just couldn’t find it in me to make my way outside and be around the others. Especially knowing that I wouldn’t be able to interact with Ezra in the way that I wanted too, the way I needed too. So instead, I stayed inside and cleaned things that didn’t need to be cleaned, organized things that were already organzied, and cooked meals. I threw myself into anything that could distract me from the events that felt like had left a scar on my very soul. I felt broken and dirty, even though I knew that nothing had really happened. But, the thoughts and feelings of uselessness just wouldn’t fade and the crept into my every waking moment.

The only good that had come from the whole situation was that my father had taken to letting Ezra eat with the rest of us again. It was only then, when Ezra sat across from me with his easy smile and flourishing words that I would truely feel safe, and those thoughts that refused to leave me alone would fade to a static in the back of my head. Instead they were replaced with Ezra speaking openly as Anthony asked him questions, and my head was only full of the the sight of Ezra’s soft obsidian eyes swirling with the galaxies and stars he had seen on his adventures and his soft oddly soothing accented voice. My father always stayed quiet during meals only eating and maybe giving a small grunt if asked a question. My father even stayed quiet as each night Ezra would softly ask about my day and how I was feeling.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Things weren’t okay, but things were finally getting better.

Roughly two weeks after everything had happened with Tucker I had managed to get myself to do the laundry. What had finally pushed me to fill the tub with steaming water and get the soaps out was when I noticed that Ezra had been wearing the same clothes for the at least last three days if not longer.

It had taken all morning to get all of my father’s and Anthony’s clothes clean and hung onto the clothes line beside the house. After a short water break, I got to work on my clothes all the while keeping an eye out and taking note of any clothes that needed mended. My father had a couple of shirts with small tears along the seam, Anthony per usual had managed to tear the pockets on his pants and was missing a button on one of his shirts, while I only had a small tear on the back of my favorite shirt from where it had caught a lose nail.

Once I had hung my clothes to dry, I reached for Ezra’s to place them in the tub only to stop short. Ezra, when we had walked from town to the farm, had only been carrying a small sack in which he only could hold two or three pairs of clothes, at most. Looking at the shirt in my hand now, I was surprised the shirt was still in one piece. The shirt was thread bare from what I could only assume was years of use, it had several holes running along the bottom part of the left sleeve as well as wear on the right, and a few along the bottom hem in the front. The other shirt he had in there was worse for wear, having a huge tear near the neck from the fight with Tucker. The pants weren’t much better, the knees rubbed thin from years of kneeling on rough surfaces and the cuffs were scuffed and held several holes of varying sizes, not to mention the sizable hole that was in the crotch of the pants, that only served to turn my face red once I had noticing it, and caused me to wonder how he had managed to hide the hole without anyone noticing.

I washed Ezra’s clothes carefully with a frown, not wanting to cause more harm, all the while trying my best to remove as many stains as possible. As I was hanging the tattered clothes on the clothes line next to mine I couldn’t help but to wonder when the last time Ezra had bought himself new clothes, because it was obvious on both shirts that he had them both when he still had his other arm.

Shaking my head, I smoothed my hand over the shirt I had just washed with a sad smile before an idea caused me to hurriedly clean up the washing tub and put away the soaps quickly. Once back in the house I went to my room and grabbed my small sewing kit, as well as my button tin placing them onto my bed, before turning to my dresser and biting my bottom lip.

When my father had finally figured out that Joshua had left the farm for good he had gone into a blind rage and had made the decision to remove and sell everything he had left behind in his room. He started with the bigger things like his bed and the small desk he had made himself for Joshua. Then he got rid of the small dresser and all of Joshua’s small little nick nacks. When all that was left was Joshua’s clothes my father had marched out of the house and made a bonfire towards the back of the farm. When I had realized what he was doing, I had grabbed what I could without it being obvious and had hid them in the bottom of my dresser under my underclothes, knowing that my father would never look in that drawer.

Now, I reach inside and grab the three shirts, two long sleeved and one t-shirt, and a pair cargo pants. The shirts, while they didn’t have holes, it was obvious that they were second hand, as they each had their own signs of wear, but they were each still in much better condition than what Ezra owned now.

Turning to my bed, with my lip still between my teeth I gently laid the clothes onto my bed before taking a deep breath and getting to work. It hurt slightly knowing that by doing this I was erasing some of the few reminders of Joshua I still had in my life, but I knew in my heart that this more important than letting the clothing items waste away in my dresser. For the two long sleeved shirts, I took the right sleeve and cut it down and sewed it closed so that Ezra wouldn’t have to worry about pinning them up anymore, and for the pants I made it so that the waist was adjustable so that if he needed to he could tighten them or loosened them, because I wasn’t sure how well, or if, the pants would fit him. As for the t-shirt, I didn’t really do anything to it beyond mending the tear along the left side that I hadn’t noticed until I had went to refold it.

The next morning after breakfast I had gone outside and collected the clothes folding and mending them. My father’s and Anthony’s, I left on their beds, and mine I put away, but I left Ezra’s pile of clothes neatly folded on my bed. That night at dinner I had smiled and talked a little more than I had in the last few weeks. It was obvious that Ezra was also in a good mood, and he kept meeting my eyes and smiling at me when my cheeks would turn slightly red.

My father had went to bed almost as soon as Ezra had left the house. As I did the dishes, Anthony had come up behind me offering to dry them and put them away. I had only smiled and handed him the towel. We stayed silent as we finished the few dishes that were left. As I was drying my hands, I jumped a little when Anthony broke the silence saying my name. When I looked up at him he looked me in the eye and took a deep breathe before quietly asking, “When you leave, tell me so I can say goodbye, okay?”

Shocked I could only nod, looking back into his eyes as he stared into mine. He gave me a small smile and then he left the kitchen and I listened as he walked up the stairs and into his room. I stood there for a few minutes trying to really process what had just happened. I must have stood there longer than I had thought because by the time I had moved up to my room and looked out the window the sun was completely gone from the sky and two of K-5’s moons at already risen.

Walking to my bed I grabbed the stack of Ezra’s clothes, both new and old, and turned to quietly walk out of the room, only stopping at my dresser and grabbing the bundle of flowers I had found on the floor of the spare room and placing them on top of the folded clothes in my hands.

Creeping out of the house and into the barn was a new experience. I was used to sneaking around, and until about a month or so I had thought that I had perfected it. But, something about sneaking around outside felt different and it made me more paranoid than usual. Finally reaching the barn didn’t help matters, either. The main area of the barn felt as though it held unimaginable horrors in every dark corner, making me jumpy and scared for what I knew was nothing. Slowly, I made my way to the latter that lead to where I knew Ezra was, all the while my ears were alert and listening for any noise, nothing but the wind could be heard though.

Once in the hayloft I relaxed slightly, not completely though, and scanned the small area, squinting and trying to find Ezra. With my first scan of the area I didn’t see him so I stepped further into the hayloft, the small amount of hay that was up there crunching under my feet. This time as I scanned the area, I whispered out Ezra’s name, too scared to raise my voice any higher. At what I can only assume to be the sound of his name being called, I heard Ezra rustling behind me, and right as I turn in the direction of the sound I heard him call out, “Flower, is that you? Truly you? Because I must confess that I have had many dreams of this situation only to wake aching to hold you and hear your voice. And at this point if you are just another of my my traitorous mind’s illustrious illusions, I might have to break into the house and visit you myself…”

Sighing and smiling at Ezra’s confession all I could do was walk towards where his voice came from. Once I reached him I could see the melancholic look in his eyes in the low light of the small lamp he had lit after hearing my voice. After taking him in for a second, I shyly looked to the floor and bit my lip before clearing my throat.

“I, um… I brought you your laundry. And I hope you don’t mind but I also fixed them up to the best of my abilities, I’m not exactly a seamstress but the holes and tears are closed….”

Smiling Ezra held his hand out and helped me sit across from him on the floor of the hayloft. After sitting I slowly passed the clothes to him chewing on my bottom lip in anticipation of what his reaction would be to both his clothes and the new items I had made for him. Ezra’s first reaction was to small and take the flowers, reaching across and placing them behind my ear with a soft, ‘there, perfect’. Then we sat in silence as Ezra meticulously looked over his clothes with a small loving smile, and when he got to the new clothes the smile turned into more of a confused one as he looked up at me.

“Flower, you claim not to be a seamstress, but this stitching is as close to perfect as anyone would get, I don’t think anyone would think that there was even hole in any of these garments. For Kevva’s sake you even found and patched that embarrassing hole in the intimate areas of my pants that I have until now successfully and embarrassingly hidden from you and the other two. But, flower, I do think you may have mixed some of either your Father’s or your brother’s clothing in with mine, for I know without a doubt these are not mine.”

Looking down messing with my nails in my lap I quietly answered, “Well, you see...I noticed your clothes were, um, well for lack of a better term, worse for wear, and I had some of Joshua’s old clothes so I thought I would fix them up for you. Modify them slightly to fit you better.”

As I spoke, I could see Ezra sorting through the new clothes, unfolding them to inspect them. Slowly I raised my head to watch him as he rubbed the cloth between his thumb and forefinger. I watched as he realized that I had patched the right sleeves to fit what was left of his missing limb. And I watched as his eyes met mine, with a look in them that I couldn’t put my finger on.

Getting embarrassed I looked back down at my lap and finished what I was saying with a quick, “I only modified the new cloths because I didn’t want to mess with your clothes just in case you didn’t like the modifications, and if you don’t like it I can, I can just take them back to the house. You don’t have to kee-”

“You would have to pry this gratuitous gift from my cold dead hands, flower. These are………. Flower, I am a man of many words and you have managed to take them all away from me with this small, but pure, act of kindness. I must admit that I had not gotten new clothing for myself in quite some time, while it be because of self loathing or because I didn’t see the point in new clothes if they were to only end up like the ones I have now, I am not sure. But these are more than what I could ask for. Precious flower you really though of everything when getting these ready for me, didn’t you? Kevva above, what did I do in a past life to deserve your absolute beauty and kindness because gods know that I didn’t do anything good enough for you in this one.”

Laughing quietly, I could only shake my head as my eyes started to get watery. Looking back up at Ezra, I was only met with a gaze that held so much emotion that it almost hurt to return. Ezra then set the clothes to the side and moved closer to me, our knees pressed against each other, and he reached his hand out, pressing it into the side of my neck with a sigh.

“Flower, I must admit that it was starting to get to hard for me not to reach arcoss that damned table at meals and just touch you. I have missed your touch more than I ever thought possible. This time without your touch made walking through a desert without water seem much more comfortable and appeasing. Seeing you so close, and not being able to have you has torn this old prospector’s heart and soul to shreds. Darling precious flower, please allow me the salvation that is your lips on mine, for I think a second longer without them might spell my death.”

Laughing again at Ezra’s dramatics, I lean towards him only to to feel his hand pull me as close as possible as he crashes his lips against mine. I couldn’t help the small moan that escaped me as my lips met his in a kiss that felt like Ezra was trying to devour my very being. Ezra’s hand moved to the back of my neck, his fingers sinking into my hair. My own hands finding their way onto Ezra’s chest and into the hair above his ear, as he pressed his tongue against mine deepening the kiss.

By the time we seperated both of our chests were heaving for breathe, and I finally noticed that at some point during the kiss we had moved closer, I had ended up on Ezra’s lap with my legs wrapped around his waist.

Ezra smiled blissfully up at me and nudged my nose with his own, and when he spoke I could feel his breath fan aross my kiss swollen lips, “Thank you, flower, I can say that after a kiss like that, I don’t think I am going to die on you anytime soon.”

“So you are saying that one was enough? You don’t need anymore?”

Laughing, Ezra pulled back far enough to meet my eyes. “One, will never me enough with you, my sweet flower. You are as addicting as any forbidden substance and you should come with a warning for the weary travels like me.”

Before I could so much as laugh, Ezra connected our lips into another heart achingly passionate kiss. His hand moved from my neck to rub up and down my back and pulling me closer so that our chests are pressed tightly against one another. Using my leg to press closer to Ezra, I without realizing ground down onto him which pulled a gasp from me and a groan from him as Ezra bucked his hips up into mine allowing me to feel just how excited he was to see me.

Ezra pulled away from the kiss then and placed his hand onto my hip as he looked into my eyes with a serious expression and in the most serious voice I have ever heard him use he asked, “Flower, I need to know now if you want this, because if you say yes I would love to do nothing more than to worship every last part of you, and treat you like the absolute goddess that you are. But, if you do not want this, I understand. Afterall it was only a few weeks ago that-”

“Please, don’t talk about it… I.. I want this, Ezra,” and looking him dead in the eye I spoke quietly, “Ezra, please make me forget. Make me forget anything but you.”

With the consent that he was hoping and praying for, Ezra jumped into action pressing me off his lap and laying me onto the soft, but scratchy hay. Slowly he made good on his promise to worship my body. Slowly removing my clothes and revealing my body to him. He kissed, sucked, massaged, and marked every part of my body making me squirm for him.

When he undressed, he kissed me slowly and allowed me to run my hands over him, as he groaned and sighed at my touches. Once he had gotten impatient with only soft touches, he deepened the kiss as he pleasured me with his beautifully calloused and rough fingers, drawing out the first of many orgasms. After his fingers he followed with his mouth, making me moan and whine his name as he brought me to my peak as many times as I allowed him to, until I had to push his head away, too sensitive from his ministrations.

Moving back up my body, Ezra kissed me slowly as I came down from the high that he had thrown me into, all the while still stroking my body in anyway he could. Once I had caught my breath, Ezra moved his lips to my ear and whispered, “Are you sure you want this?”

And with a nod, because he had taken all my ability to speak anything but his name, he pulled back and sat on his knees as he pulled my hips and angled them, with my help, before he slowly pressed himself into me. I had been with a few boys from my planet, but they couldn’t compare to in any way to how full Ezra made me feel once he was seated fully inside of me. Moaning his name, all I could do was clutch at the hay that surrounded me as Ezra made love to me until we were both more than exhausted.

Laying in the hayloft with Ezra’s head resting on my heart, I had never felt more loved or happy or safe in my life. And all I could do was wish that this feeling or this moment would never end.

(Per usual THANK YOU for reading!! Every single one of you mean so much to me! All feedback is welcome, I especially love hearing your thoughts about the last chapter! Reblogs really help with spreading the story, so if you don’t mind, please reblog? And if you would like to be added to the taglist just shoot me an ask and I’d be more than happy to add you! I hope you guys have a lovely week and I’ll see you with the next part!)

Tags: @babybelou @farrvey @anatanotegami @revolution-starter @cadelinhadopedropascal @lucifurrr @coolfishoperatoreagle @pugdalorian @callsigncatfish @marydjarin @jeeperky

(Marked out people on the taglist, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! Sorry!)

#pedro pascal #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #ezra (prospect)#ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra prospect #ezra x female reader

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sxveme-2 · 3 years

Text

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twenty Eight: The One When He Comes Home

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2338

Lily and Cedar sat in the lab for a few moments after she posed her question, eyes locked on one another, trying to figure out what the other was thinking. The two were seemingly two birds of a feather when they were younger, but as age and the years weathered them both, they split into two. Neither truly understanding what was going on in the other's head. Lily used to be able to figure out Cedar in a matter of seconds, but now...he was just a shell of the brother she adored. He wasn't who he used to be. It broke Lily to see him like this, but she wondered if it may be a charade. If his entire presence was a trick done by her parents to get their hands on what they truly wanted out of all of this.

"So are we just going to sit here and stare at each other?" Cedar quipped, shifting in his seat, "Learn that from the assassin you let sleep in the same house as my nephew?"

Lily lowered her eyes at his words, a rage boiling deep inside of her, "What happened to the calm and relaxed demeanour from yesterday?" she questioned, crossing her legs, "And don't speak about James like that. You don't know him."

"What? Not Bucky anymore?"

"Not to you, he isn't."

Both resumed the same tense silence as earlier, though this time, Lily's back stood a bit straighter. Her eyes lowered and focused solely on the expressionless face of Cedar. He was hiding something behind that facade of being too weak, but that may simply be the cynic inside of Lily. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Perhaps her parents used him against his own will. But if she knew Cedar, he didn't do it willingly.

"What do you want, Cedar?" Lily questioned, leaning back in her seat as Natasha walked in with pancakes.

"To help," he stated cooly, eyes glancing to the agent that dropped the two plates in front of Lily and him, "To help you, and the others."

Lily stayed silent as she waited for Natasha to leave the room. When she did, the blonde leaned forward and took a bite of the pancakes. Not as good as hers, but not bad. She watched Cedar carefully, monitoring every flick of his eyes and twitch of his hands. The way his breath increased whenever he heard voices travelling from upstairs. He was anxious, Lily figured that out pretty quickly, but also scared. Of what? She wasn't sure.

"I need the truth, Cedar." Lily stated simply, placing down her fork.

He hesitated, mouth pursing before he took a bite of his own pancakes, wiping his mouth before speaking, "They want something they can't have, Lily," he said in a hushed tone, "something I know you'd be damned before ever giving up."

"What is it?" She questioned, shrugging her shoulders, "Hunter? Because I'll take them on myself before any of you lay a hand on him."

"Any of us? You think so low of me, Lil?"

"I do," she stated harshly, voice shaking, "I do Cedar. Rose does too. So does Hunter. So does James."

"So your boyfriend's opinion on me means more than everything we've been through?" He scoffed, pushing his plate away.

Lily watched intently. Everything was going as Bucky had instructed her. He wanted her to rile him up, get his emotions going to reveal something they didn't know before. It hurt her, it destroyed her, but she knew he was right. She knew that the man before her was not her brother, but someone else wearing his skin. Maybe had his heart, but not his soul. This was someone who had been corrupted into something far more extreme than he realized. His actions put so many people in danger, and in harm's way, including Lily, and her son.

"What we've been through?" Lily chucked, shaking her head, "No. No Cedar this isn't about what we've been through. This is about what you aren't realizing. I hold James' opinion higher because he was there to put things into perspective for me when you, mom, and dad, were off doing your little experiments."

"This has nothing to do with him." Cedar stated simply, shrugging his shoulders in a menacing mockery of Lily.

"This has everything to do with him. He is my family now Cedar," Lily sneered, "And you have decided to mess with my family. You stopped being family when you tried to hurt my son."

"Oh my god, this has nothing to do with Scott's either!" Cedar exclaimed, standing to his feet and pushing the chair away.

"Why were you there, Cedar?" Lily asked, her voice as calm as a river after a storm.

"Can we not do this-"

"Why were you there?"

"You can't be serious right now, Lily!"

"Answer me!"

"TO GET HUNTER!" Cedar exploded, flipping the plate off the table, causing Lily to jump away out of instinct, "AND TO GET YOU! TO BRING YOU HOME! SO YOU COULD BE LIKE US!"

Lily stared at the man, analyzing the words of his confession. Her heart raced and chest was rising and falling at a rate that showed she was close to tears. Her lips quivered and eyes were wide. She knew he didn't mean their actual home. She didn't know where he meant. But it wasn't the calm, two story, eco friendly home in Long Island. It was where this new Cedar had been made. Because her parents were going to start with their own family. Make them new, and make them into the icons that the world "needed".

"Well that was quite the show." Tony's voice echoed as he stepped into the lab, "Glad to know Cyborg doesn't just have old gears in his head." The man quipped, turning his attention to Cedar, "C'mon. Don't make this arrest harder than it already will be."

Cedar's eyes dropped down to Lily, who was shaking slightly in her seat. Her own eyes dropped down to the broken plate on the floor, her mind racing as memories resurfaced. The feeling of betrayal sat heavy in her stomach, and she knew that it was her own doing. She should have fought harder for him. Made him confess that he was being manipulated or controlled. Anything to prove that what Cedar was doing was not his true intent, not his true wishes. But she knew that it was, all from the heavy breathing escaping from his mouth as he sneered down at his sister. The way he looked at her, that of disgust and hurt. She could only imagine what her own looked like.

"You've become a coward, Lily." He spat, before turning towards Tony.

-----

Two hours later, Lily sat in her bed with the blankets pulled tightly up to her chin. Tears ceased to fall from her cheeks, seemingly having run out. Her body shook as the dry heaving took over her quiet sobs. No one dared ask to talk, not even Rose. Steve tried at first, and earned a pillow being thrown at him by the broken woman. Her hands were numb and aching from the grip she held on the blankets, trying to hide away from the world. She hated herself for what she did, despite it being the right thing.

The sound of a helicopter or plane above the compound set Lily's heart off into a frenzy. Either someone was visiting, or Bucky was coming home. With Cedar's confession and evidence of DNA altering from Tony and Bruce's tests, she could only assume that they had enough to convict her parents of whatever. But she didn't move from her spot. She couldn't. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to face the truth of what happened. What she did. She betrayed her own family. But most of all, she failed.

She raised Cedar. She cooked for him, bathed him, did everything for him. She swore to protect him at all costs. Keep him safe from all the dangers of the world, just as she had sworn to Hunter. Instead, she let him fall into the hands of her parents. Those same parents she came to realize were the farthest thing from that. They provided food, and a shelter, sure, but they weren't parents. They never cared for Lily, they never cared for Rose, and all they ever did to Cedar was us him. Convince him of things she knew for a fact weren't true. Maybe that's why he went to them. Trying to fill that hole of not having them as a child.

He was her brother. And she said he wasn't even family anymore.

Her eyes lifted as her bedroom door opened, the face of her son popping around with sad eyes. Lily immediately released the blankets and wiped her eyes, opening her arms to Hunter as he walked forward. When he climbed onto the bed, Lily gave a weak and clearly forced smile. She knew he could see through it, but she figured any sense of comfort that he could get, would help in the times he was experiencing. Hunter sat across from her with his legs crossed, mirroring her own position.

"Uncle Cedar is getting arrested," he whispered, voice barely louder than the wind.

"I know," Lily whispered, nodding slowly as she pursed her lips, "They won't try to hurt us anymore. Ever. I promise."

Hunter wiped his eyes as he crawled into his mom's arms, curling into her shoulder as his warm tears dropped onto her collarbone. The world fell away as she listened to his heavy breathing. Her fingers ran soothing circles down his back, her own pain putting itself on the backburner. Hunter was her main priority right now. It didn't matter what she said, what she did, as long as Hunter was in her arms. He was safe, healthy, and with her. No one out there trying to hurt him or get to him anymore. Because she sacrificed what she needed to.

Maybe more than she intended to.

"Can't you give them a bit?" a hushed voice echoed from outside of her room, "She's been crying for two hours." Steve continued, his voice growing closer as boots tapped on the ground.

"Steve, that is the woman he loves in there," Sam retorted back, "I need to tell her. We also need to talk about her parents' arrest."

"She just helped have her parents and brother arrested, don't you think she deserves a few minutes alone with her son?"

Silence fell. No one breathed, no one spoke. The only noise was the soft cries from the boy Lily held in her arms. Her own heart seemed to cease from beating as the familiar voice of Sam replayed through her head. Something happened. Something terrible happened. Lily didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to know. Whatever Bucky did, she knew it wasn't good. Whether it was sacrificing himself, or forcing Sam to leave. But she figured out pretty quickly he didn't arrive home with Sam. Which only scared her more.

The creak of the door handle set Lily's heart in motion once more. Sam's face poked around, a large bruise on his eye and gash across his cheek.

"Where is he?" She croaked.

-----

Arrested. Her parents were arrested. And she was at her wits end. She couldn't do it. So when Sam told her he didn't know where he was, Lily snapped. She packed everything, put Hunter, Rose, and Joey in the car and was gone. No one tried to stop her. No one tried to get her to stay. They knew there was nothing they could have said. Lily Osborne was sick and tired of being caught up in the Avengers.

She couldn't do it.

No one spoke. Not a word was exchanged as Lily drove back down to the small home she missed. It was enough. But when she turned the corner, a car stuck out to her. One in her driveway she never saw really. She'd seen it, but she and him never used it. They used her car primarily. But her blood boiled as she pulled in and stormed into the house.

There he was, bruised and battered, sitting on her couch.

"Rose," Lily called back, "Take Hunter to Gen's."

Bucky's face fell as he listened to her words. Dread took over his face and Lily slammed the door, her face hard and aggressive. The anger she always hid away fought its way to the surface as he stayed sitting. Neither spoke, neither breathed. The only noise was the air conditioner that warmed the house around them.

"Hi Doll."

"Do not call me that," Lily exclaimed, slamming her keys down and walking across to the living room, "You do not speak right now. You sit, and listen. Because I have had enough, James."

And he did as told. He readjusted in his seat and waited for the hell that Lily was about to unleash.

"You have roped my family into something," she snapped, "I'm tired. I'm so tired. I am so tired Bucky."

"I kno-"

"No! No Bucky you don't know!" She exclaimed, tugging at her hair, "You made a promise to me. You promised me you would keep us out of danger. And here we are, after two weeks of sitting in an Avengers Compound because we were in danger."

"Lily please-"

"No I'm not done talking," she retorted, eyes bearing down into him, "I felt so sick these past weeks. Not knowing where you are, what you're doing. If you're alive! I sat in my bed like the dotting wife who was waiting for you. But for the love of GOD Bucky I can't keep doing that!"

"Lily I'm retiring."

"No don't do that," Lily whispered, tears rolling down her face, "Because you know that's not true. You will say you're done and they will rope you right back in."

"Lily- "

"Get out. Get out Bucky. I'm tired. I'm done."

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