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orionsangel86 · 4 months

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Who do you think is better suited for dating Morpheus: Johanna or Hob?

Lol controversial ask! Jokes. I am guessing this came off the back of my response to the Calliope post the other week where I mentioned that I am loosely a Dreamling shipper but lean more towards Morphanna currently. I guess I need to specify that it very much depends on my mood because I am a Sandman multishipper at heart but feel different ships serve different purposes regarding Dream. I struggle to stretch them beyond the purposes I have set aside for them. Also it's Dreamling week and so one look at my blog would definitely give the assumption that I am a huge Dreamling shipper but that isn't actually the case. What I am is a Morpheus stan and everything else is peripheral to my focus on him and his story.

But sure lets dig into this. Honest answer? Neither because Morpheus is terrible and his track record alone is enough proof that he should never date anyone ever.

(jokes)

If we want to be sticklers for comic canon here, neither is suited because there are particular blockers in place for both ships.

For Morphanna the blocker is the rule that states that an Endless can not love a mortal. We have the Nada situation to show us what happens when they do. (Sun gets big mad and throws fireballs at the Earth)

For Dreamling the blocker is less carved into stone but its still gonna be a biggy for certain readers/audiences, being that Morpheus is not gay/bi/pan/queer whatever you wanna call him. For all intents and purposes in comic canon he's as straight as a ruler. However whilst we only ever see Morpheus's lovers as powerful, confident, beautiful female presenting immortal beings, we can throw in the tried and true argument we can apply to all of Neil Gaiman's non human beings which is that since he is not a human cis male, he technically can't be straight and since he has multiple forms and is as old as the universe itself, attraction is probably a very different thing to Morpheus than it is to any of us. It's entirely plausible that he could fall in love with a man shaped being (I actually have a meta in progress about Morpheus' potential queerness - sure it may ruffle some feathers but since I do this for fun and not to please anyone but myself I don't give a damn and will post it one day).

Anyway, that said the show could easily do away with both these blockers. We haven't had Nada's tale yet so whats to say the Endless are forbidden from loving mortals in the show universe? Nothing. The show could also easily confirm Dream has had past male presenting lovers (my money would be on Oberon in a threeway situation with Titania - or Pharamond if he shows up.)

So putting those elements aside, who is better suited to Morpheus?

In Johanna's corner we have the following;

She generally fits the archetype of past lovers and therefore could be considered Morpheus's "type" - beautiful, confident, argumentative, not phased by his status, not submissive to him, puts him in his place (listen we all know Morpheus has a submissive kink its practically carved into comic text lol).

Well versed with his "world" and supernatural creatures and can hold her own against them - being a Constantine has its benefits.

She cares - underneath her tough exterior its clear she has a good heart. She was able to bring him down to Earth, to give a human perspective that he needed at that point.

Flawed characters - Johanna considers herself a bad person and compares herself to Roderick Burgess. But Dream is quick to dismiss this. The truth is that Johanna may be messy and a bit of a disaster, but she is very selfless and good at her core. This could be a good thing as it could help Dream to see the good in humanity that he has been missing. Its clear she already helped with this in the show, but going forward, a relationship between them could help even further accelerate his change and make him a better being.

She encouraged the development of his relationship with Matthew. Something else he needed which she saw before he did. Basically she's smart enough to figure out what he needs, and when to press the issue or not. (she dropped the topic of his imprisonment as soon as he deflected to her photo).

She understands heartbreak and messy relationships - I think Johanna would be well suited to Morpheus because she is just as broken as he is, with almost as messy a relationship history. They have common ground there.

"It never ends well does it?" "What? Love?" She's realistic about relationships, which Morpheus - being Dream - needs. She can ground him, at least for a little while.

Johanna is also a powerful ally to have on side, it makes for excellent storytelling to bring her into the narrative regarding Lucifer and the stories revolving around Hell. She's competent, highly skilled, and I think he finds her impressive.

For Hob consider the following:

Friends first - for someone with such a terrible track record of past lovers, finding love in a friend is something Morpheus doesn't appear to have tried before, and this could be exactly what he needs. Dream and Hob have a shared history over 6 centuries, and those are strong foundations to build a relationship on, especially since they've already basically been through the big break up fight and heartbreak and are already in the rekindling phase.

Stories for the storyteller - the beauty of Hob's role is that he is Dream's respite from his world. The visits with Hob are the one time the Prince of Stories gets to sit and listen to stories himself. There must be peace in that, and we all know Dream desperately seeks peace.

Blind Devotion - Hob is patient, and he will wait for Dream. One thing that I think a lot of Morpheus's past lovers had in common is that they struggled to stick out the periods of time when he would throw himself into his work and basically forget about them. The relationships fizzled out after the honeymoon phase because Dream couldn't sustain that, even though once you have his love you have it forever. With Hob that wouldn't be an issue. He is the man who waited. Who never gave up hope that Dream would return even after he was stood up, and when he did return, Hob smiled and joked. It was all okay. Morpheus needs a relationship with that level of chill.

Flawed characters - Unlike Johanna, I think its safe to say that Hob is a very flawed character. He is selfish, greedy, self centered and ignorant to a lot of what takes place around him. Whilst he does grow and improve over time, his flaws are still a huge part of his character. Morpheus is also very far from perfect and it is this that makes them so well suited. There is almost an equal footing there. Hob could potentially see Morpheus's POV when it comes to the grander schemes, but at the same time, it is clear from their journey together in the show that they have a tendency to make each other better.

Grieving fathers - now this is an important one and its something I feel the comic failed to see the potential of. A huge part of the Sandman story is Morpheus struggling to come to terms with his grief over his son. Grief is a central theme. Of all the characters in the comic who Morpheus comes to meet, Hob is one of maybe two that share that experience - being a father whose son died too soon. I think the other character in comic who suffers this same grief is Shakespeare, which is an interesting parallel and one worth exploring. The show adds Roderick Burgess into the equation - making a fathers grief for his dead son the trigger for Dream's own imprisonment. The show emphasises the theme of grief far beyond the comic, which is definitely worth further exploration in a separate meta. The point is that Hob sits in this very small circle of characters who have shared Dream's experience. Hob is therefore in a prime position to help Dream where they can grow and learn to heal together.

Whilst he doesn't fit the archetype for Dream's past lovers, the differences Hob provides could prove to be just what Dream needs. He is still a handsome man (and God knows Dream gave him bedroom eyes in 1789) and he still ticks certain boxes regarding dominance, confidence, and an ability to hold his own in a fight. "You need not have come to my defence" suuuuure Dream but you did enjoy it nevertheless! Therefore attraction isn't an issue.

Conclusion?

Both Johanna and Hob tick certain boxes to meet the requirements for "love interest" and could easily be positioned that way for Dream. When I really dig down into it I think it depends on what fans are looking for in a Dream ship as to which character is best suited.

I love Morphanna for how messy it is. Yes, Johanna cares and has a good moral centre, but placing her into a certain role within the bounds of the canon story could actually be bad for Dream going forward. I see it as a dramatic relationship. It would be passionate, fiery, dramatic, chaotic, and will end in heartbreak.

I say this because ultimately Johanna doesn't do commitment. This is a clearly defined character trait in the show. Commitment is something she struggles with. Whereas Morpheus is all about commitment. He doesn't appear to do anything BUT commit to people and comes on extremely strong. I love exploring this dynamic between them. I think it would work brilliantly as a canon ship and I am still resolutely behind the idea that Johanna should replace Thessaly in canon and be the trigger for the rainsoaked Dreaming and the Brief Lives disaster trip.

So whilst I 100% ship Morphanna, I think I only ship it on a temporary basis. I struggle to imagine a future where they can have a happy ending and be together long term. Instead I see an ending where after all is said and done, Johanna stands and tells her story at the Wake, and mourns the creature she loved, and has to go on struggling to understand her role in his downfall. If we are seeking an alternative ending where Morpheus lives, I still struggle to see him settling down with Johanna as she is a mortal and I cannot imagine her ever choosing immortality or giving up her job as someone who saves people from the supernatural. She will never be Morpheus's queen. It just doesn't suit her character.

When it comes to Hob, as much as it sometimes irks me to admit it, he is very well suited for Morpheus even in an endgame/alternative happy ending way. Foundations based in centuries of growing friendship, his patience and ability to wait for Morpheus to get his head out of his ass, his being unphased at practically all the weirdness and oddities that Dream's world brings with it. The fact is, Hob is Dream's best friend. This is something that Dream needs so much more than a lover. Not only that but he is a friend who has shared history, shared grief, shared pain, blind devotion, and he is immortal. Hob will stay by Dream's side forever if he has the chance. So long as he still gets to live. Whether you see it as purely platonic, queer platonic, non sexual romantic, or fully romantic and sexual, they are in it for the long term.

Whereas Morphanna for me is a quick burning fiery passionate love affair that ends in tears and A LOT of rain, Dreamling is a very slow burn. I struggle with canon based fics that have them falling into bed shortly after the 2022 reunion because it feels out of character to me. If Dreamling were to happen, it would need to take practically the entire comic run story to get to that point. Hob's devotion to Dream is clear, but his awareness of its romantic potential is not yet there. I always return to Hob's dream in Sunday Mourning when I think of Dreamling, because for me, that is where a relationship between them would actually start, rather than end. Because I think it would take a huge event like Morpheus's actual death for them to pull their heads out of their asses and get together. Because you see even with all the arguments and debates and highly emotional opinions thrown around, I still feel deep down like Sunday Mourning is telling us that Morpheus escaped. He got out the narrative and is free from his cage, and now he's set for his own adventure off in the stars. The only person I can realistically imagine him taking with him is Hob Gadling.

At the end of the day these are my opinions. I want canon Morphanna, I just want it to end with a horrible messy break up because I want that drama. I am unsure if I want Dreamling in canon, but I do hope that if the show ends similarly to the comic, that we will get those scenes in Sunday Mourning and have them be extremely emotionally charged - if ever there is a Dreamling love confession, that is where it belongs. I can only really analyse my opinions on these ships based on canon but I am aware that fandom is a big sandbox and people can do what they want always with these characters. Please don't ever let my opinions deter you from shipping them to your hearts content in any way you feel like.

So I guess the TL:DR is that they are both suited in different ways. Morphanna is a mid story passionate love affair that I adore and want to end in disaster. Dreamling is an endgame slow burn friends to lovers that has the potential to go long term.

I love them both for their specific purposes, believe they both are suited for those purposes, but never the other way around. I hope this satisfies your question! :)

#dreamling #morphanna #dream of the endless #hob gadling #johanna constantine #the sandman #sandman meta #sandman analysis #dreamling meta #morphanna meta #my meta #asks #sandman comic spoilers

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freshlyrage · 1 year

Text

Running Like Water

Chapter 17

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 9.7k

a/n: Hi sweethearts, its here... part 1 of New Orleans. Enjoy and happy Kinktober.

CW: Mentions of past poor relationship with eating

Masterlist

Javier is a smooth operator, you'll give him that. He slips out of your house without disturbing your mothers tranquil slumber. You were no good either, awoken by a chaste kiss, “Call me.” he whispers at 4 in the morning before disappearing out your window. You stir, still convinced you were dreaming. You wake with an attempt at nuzzling into his chest but instead you're met with the ghost of his warmth and the sound of your mother calling your name from the kitchen.

Eyes squinted you rise from bed and immediately sit back down. Your eyes widen and flash at your bare lower half, the soreness was a bit much. You know Javier would power trip if he saw the way your legs gave out. You wince as you waddle over to grab some pants.

You walk down your stairs into your kitchen with a warm flush on your face. You last saw your mother when she practically said you weren’t welcome in your house any more and now she has a narrowed eyed glare at you when you stumble down the stairs. Two eggs cracked, both for her. Her plate ready with tomato’s right where Javier bent you over and fucked you just 15 hours prior. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

“Good morning.” You croak with a yawn, passing her to open the fridge for some water. Her eyes follow you the whole time, trying to read your every move. Judging bit by bit.

Your eyes drag down to the counter where the house phone goes unhooked and stretched laid flat. She must have just gotten off the phone. You ignore it, you felt like your mother was always on the phone. Always stressed about the boutique.

“You’re sleeping with Javier.”

She says it matter-of-fact. Despite being prepared for the accusation you feel your stomach flipping. You had scripted this approach and prepared yourself before you dozed off after actually being fucked by Javier Peña (for the second time).

You flare your nostrils and widen your eyes in the best acting you’ve done in years and you deliver it so perfectly, “Xavier?”

You almost want to giggle, and your mother gasps—a mixture of relief and concern. Her eyes dart to the phone and you follow her gaze. “You’re back together?” She lowers the stove heat and crosses her arms, this is her dream. Marry you off to the soldier, the well off soldier. But her reaction is less expressive, maybe I should ask who she was just calling.

Later, you think, crush her twisted dreams now, “Oh you were talking about Javi!” You laugh as if her accusation was nothing short of ridiculous. “C’mon mami.. Why would you—oh the car?” You roll your neck, let go of all the knots and cracks.

Your mothers shoulders fall, probably upset that you aren't trying to work things out with your very awful ex. You wish she knew, how horrible he was, she’d still side with him.

You never described your mother as cruel, not even when you went away to Miami, when you could’ve rewritten your story. Your mother hadn’t beat you, she never called you names and she rarely ever yelled. And she wasn’t always cold. She could be kind to you, friendly, but she could also be mean—too straight up, afraid of white lies. She never loved you much, you knew people you met in college who showed you more love than your mother had. You spent all your life alone in your own home but at a certain point you made family with others.

Yet you ached for that affection from your biological family.

You hadn't given up completely and you reached an age where you could form a relationship with your brother. Finally, he wasn’t an extension of your mother, he could form his own opinions. You could distract yourself from the cast of sadness when she stares at you too long, when she’s reminded of how you came to be. When she looks at you and sees your father.

But through her frowns and sighs you at least had Frankie. Your brother was yours just as much as he was your mothers. He took care of you, you cared for him, he was mean, he was rude, but he loved you so much he never knew what to do with it. He struggled to protect you from certain things but he tried his best. God, he isnt good at showing it but he cares. He’s trying his best, you don’t think anyone loves you as much, and he doesn’t even love you all that much so it’s a bit sad and embarrassing when you think of it.

Your mother and Frankie found common ground on most things, it was just a quirk they developed from sharing so much time together. You and your mother have never agreed on anything in your life.

There were few things the two differed. Frankie was a cowboys fan and your mother favored the Texans. She hated his long hair, Frankie promised to never cut it. Frankie would kill Javier if he found what the two of you do, your mother will kill you instead.

Frankie saw it as a situation of respect, you were his baby sister for crying out loud. He thought your crush was a nuisance at worst, but he had seen how distant you got when he left. He wanted to kill Javier when he found out he kissed you before he went away, shit he wanted to kill you too.

And your mother, she thought your crush was child’s play. She saw Lorraine and Javier, she told you once that that, the romance between two teens, deciding to start their lives together, that was a display of true love. Your mom smiled over her food as she gushed over Javier and his girlfriend. You struggled to keep your food down when you entered the bathroom.

You don’t know when she made that decision because she seemed to be very indifferent to Javier’s personal life before he left. You guessed it was when she started having dinner with Lorraine's mother twice a week. It was also paired with her not considering you good enough for the son of Don Chucho. Makes more sense now that you know she slept with him too.

In her head it was Javier and Lorraine forever, so even if you admitted right now that you were sleeping with him she would find some way to talk you out of it for the sake of Lorraine.

You explain the bar lie and she believes you without batting an eye.

Between flickered glances at the phone and at you she presses some questions about his job and if he’ll speak to Lorraine before he leaves.

Mrs. Smith is convinced Lorraine and Javier will get married soon. You try not to audibly sigh as you go on about not being sure. She nods and serves her plate of eggs, you were meaning to ask why she came home early but the bubbling anxiety of mentioning Louisiana took over.

“Javier is driving me to Baton Rouge.” You drop nonchalantly. Pushing your sex and bed head out of your face as you sit on the stool. Her fork clatters and she coughs.

She’s silent for a moment, her dark brown eyes half lidded, her nostrils flaring slightly. Just like you, you got that from her… that small tick when you’re frustrated. She only urges an e por que?

You keep it cool, you know she’ll be upset regardless. “I’ll be staying with my grandmother for the weekend. Javier has a work trip in New Orleans, I’ll catch a ride.”

She lets out an overdrawn sigh, “señor dame fuerza,” she mutters her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Always so dramatic, your eyes flash to the clock, shouldn’t she be in church? You’d bring it up but you know if you do she’d throw that fork at you. “¿Sabes qué? No puedo detenerte.”

Your brows raise in shock.You let a silence beat before you reply, “No, you can’t.”

She sighs, “You know I’m just trying to protect you.”

And you don’t know what has gotten into you but— “Too late for that.”

Your mothers aging eyes widen, her mouth parting slightly in shock. For a split second you feel a pang in your chest, the guilt for that second is unbearable. But who had been there when you cried so much you’d choke? Had she felt guilty when she passed your room when you cried for her affection when you were just six. Had she felt guilty then?

Her gaze falls to the plate and you twist the knife further. “I’ll be apartment hunting there too, for this coming winter.” It comes to you on the spot, you never had the intention to do so but after her “move out” suggestion the idea came naturally. Maybe it was a mixture of hope, hoping the family in Baton Rouge would open their arms to you and never make you feel unwelcome.

Her brows raise a bit and with her smallest stutter she whispers, “Bien.”

“Good.” You snap, crossing your arms.

Her eyes widened again, appalled at your audacity. “Well–I’m going to work. I called your brother about you and Javier so you might want to clear the air.”

Your mother dramatically exits like she had two days ago when she dropped the first bomb of the week. An unbearable panic explodes in your chest, you physically recoil the second she leaves. Hand over your chest, you try to bite back tears.

No–not yet. No, not this time.

Avoidant, often you call yourself that. You avoided the things that made you feel anything other than a sense of security. You’d have 7 blow up arguments with your mother a year, in reality you should have an argument a day but you often avoided that too. You avoided all things Javier when he was gone, avoided breaking up with Xavier until the very last minute.

It was just in your nature, so after a few shed tears and a coughing up the milk you chugged from your wrecked nerves, you avoided the thought of being confronted by your older brother. You avoided the idea of having to lie to his face and then somehow convince him that despite your mothers claims you were indeed not fucking his best friend but you are also heading on a completely platonic mini vacation together in just a few days.

The trait was probably your fathers. Your mother never avoided a confrontation, she’d follow you up the stairs before you physically create a barrier between you two. Frankie had been the same way, stern and a bit mean but always in search to solve the problem the second it started. The second he found out you had kissed Javier from some girl who stopped by the hair salon he drove straight to the house to talk to you about it. That was them and like most things ‘mom and son’ you just couldn't be on that same level.

With that when your mom left you alone after that bomb you had locked yourself into your room and planned your lessons for the week, completely (sort of) shutting out all thoughts of this morning.

Until 2 pm when you had gotten hungry after only drinking milk that you spat up like an infant. Your brain splitting in two when you’re met with the back of your big brother's head. Somehow feeling some more of that bile lingering and coming back up.

“Frankie…” You whispered turning the corner and into the kitchen where he sat at the island stool. His hair still long and curly, Genie had a love-hate thing with it, on one hand he had beautiful healthy curls and on the other he looked a bit shaggy with it. It was a bit 1975 of him, the denim and mustache. Him and Javier being best friends just made sense, their style never evolved.

You see his face now, in his hands is a book and his eyes aren't as angry as you feared. That scared you the most, so you began, “Gordo–” His eyes flashed to yours again, maybe calling him by your childhood nickname was a bit much. “Mami is mistaken, you have to believe me– me and Javi never-we haven’t-god, we’re not even.”

But Frankie cuts, “Did you take a psychology course at Miami.”

Um…

Your brows pull tightly, afraid of where this is going. Is he just going to ignore the whole– “Yes-yeah I did, childhood and adolescent development and psychology.”

“Did you ever read Julian Ridden, anything from him?” Frankie taps his book and places it on the counter ignorant of him, his hand splayed on the cover and then slowly retreated. Words upside down, cover a pale palm out open.

You shake your head, “No– it was more like Piaget and Freud, what does this have to do with anything? I want to talk to you Frankie!”

Well so much for being avoidant. Now that he’s here you want none of whatever he’s trying to do now, no mind games, just let me lie to you dammit.

“Ridden came up with the Being and Knowing theory about parents who grew up with out a father of their own. He says that men who never had a father figure in their life often overcompensate in the lives of their children, they know what's it like to not have a father so they become what they wished for.”

Your brows soften for a moment, the tightness in your chest shifting from the possibility of being caught to concern for your brother. You take a step closer, pulling the book towards you and flipping it. “Frankie…are you alright, I know–well I don't but I figure the idea of being a father feels scary.”

“I’m sorry for not being there for you when you were little.” His head drops and you hurry to his side, slinging your arm over his shoulders. He shook his head in disagreement. It’s okay, you murmur into his shoulder. “It isn't okay, upu had no one, not even mami. I see it now. And I know it wasn't my responsibility to play the role of your father but I could’ve been a better example of what a man should be.”

Your heart splits in two and suddenly every worry you built until now washes away, a few tears fall at the sound of something so unfortunately true. You just hated that he realized how it’s been for you, that now he’s hurt too, you only wished that this would only pain you. “It’s okay you did your best, I’m better now.”

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose and shrugs you off, startled you wipe your own tears afraid of what outburst is coming from this, “You looked for that in Javi–I know me, your dad and even fucking Xavier didn't treat you well, Javier was there for you and I feel like I prosecuted you for that–it's fucked up.”

There it is, taking the back of your palm you wipe your brow and land your hands on your hips. “What…”

“Listen, I was too hard on you about Javier. I know that now, I get it. He left and I blamed you internally, and sure some of it was your fault but I don’t know why I lacked sympathy for you all I thought about was myself.”

You cross your arms, now he’s entering waters unknown. When Javi left your brother distanced, you had taken the educated guess that it was because he was starting his life with his girlfriend not much else. Blame me? What was my fault? For what? You bite the inside of your lip, staring down the profile of your brother's face. “What do you mean?”

His brows screw, still his gaze fixed on nothing ahead of him. “You made shit awkward, Javier never called and when he did all he wanted to talk about was you.”

Your face flushes, “I’m sorry what– Javier doing Javier shit has nothing to do with me. He’s a famously known flaker, he leaves.. Often and when he does he like chooses to not exist in our lives. That's not my fault!”

Frankie closes his eyes and exhales a frustrated one. “Obviously some shit happened before he left which I know now was him fucking kissing you, god you should’ve never let that happen Andrea.”

You mirror his angry exhale and your tears have since dried. “Oh give me a break, I was fucking sixteen and in love with him, god forbid we share a kiss. Jesus christ, it wasn't that serious, he left and stopped calling. He's here now!”

Frankie’s head snaps to you in disbelief, “Wasn't that serious? He left and you didn't fucking eat, you were never home and when you started to be healthy again you started dating that–that prick, that called you fat on your birthday dinner. You leave for Miami and you never call, you come home and you work out until you’re sick and now Javier’s home and all of a sudden you're easy going and healthy and fine. That is a big deal!”

You stood frozen in front of him feeling like an open wound. Everything you hid, all the habits you tried to keep under wraps. How you skipped the meals your mother made, when you cried embarrassed when Genie found you on the side of the road after nearly fainting from a run. You had blocked it out, avoidant, Xavier had asked if you really wanted dessert on your eighteenth birthday, in front of your brother. He sat and watched. You were at a loss of words for once, you couldn't muster up anything to say. All things were true, he was right but you couldn’t face the connection.

“I…” You swallow the lump in your throat, “Yes, Frankie, yes I struggled. But it is what it is, it’s in the past!” You just accepted that idea 4 days ago but you couldn't tell him that, no.

He stands abruptly, the chair scraping tile, “I can sympathize with you now, we’re grown up but you complicated shit and I lost my best friend! You need to take responsibility.”

“I didn't do anything wrong!”

He scoffs, “Oh please! I wasn't the best brother to you but you knew Javier would do anything for you, you knew he was with Lorraine and you still had to have him! You never saw it this way, how could you? All you think about is yourself, but he was my friend first! He was my only fucking friend Andrea and-” His finger is pointed in your face. You're so angry you could slap him but that wouldn't end well, you and your brother were never above rough-housing. The optics arent the same now that the two of you are adults. “And imagine how I feel… after all this time, all this distance to get a call from mami saying regardless of it being my only boundary you're still seeing him? Please tell me I’m mistaken, nena. I’ll fucking kill him you have to understand me–he’s my family but you’re my little sister and I’m not letting him hurt you again, I cant watch it again. ” His finger falls.

Your skin feels a size too tight at that, the nickname he gave you when he first held you in his own chubby toddler arms. The burn of little sister, his stare blown and frantic you couldn't even tell exactly what he was mad about but it seemed to all boil over. Those six years of resentment you never knew he held. Standing in the kitchen where you had the man he’s begging you to be away from, below the bathroom where he asked you to go away with him and now with wild embers in the deep brown irises of your big brother, he pleads.

He is pleading, please don’t lie to me any longer, please don’t, not Javier, anyone else.

And you feel it, the guilt, the sick twisting storm throughout your body. You feel everything at once, you feel the paternal look in Frankie's eyes, his newfound fatherhood giving him perspective on how it must have been for you. You feel the resentment in how you acted after Javi left, how you never considered how his best friend leaving burned him too.

But so selfishly you’re brought back to the feeling of being in his arms. You hate that your brain is proving Frankie's point. Javier makes you feel stable, safe and maybe it’s unhealthy but it’s the greatest comfort you’ve ever felt.

You hadn’t known warmth until then.

Come november he’ll be gone and if you're careful no one gets hurt, he leaves and your secret is kept. Frankie is your family, he has hurt you 4 times over, he passed your room when you wept and rubbed in your face the relationship he had with your mother. You loved him to death but your feelings for Javier belong to you. You’re so tired of being told how to behave.

You lie.

“I am not sleeping with Javier.” Frankie’s tense shoulders drop, and you drag on the falsehood. “Mom got the wrong idea but I told her he had dropped his car off here so he could head to the bar and I’m so sorry for fucking shit up but its…me and him are different now. He’s my…” Your eyes drop, not having the heart to look at him as you fabricate all he knows. “He’s my best friend too, he knows about my grandma, he’s taking me to see her so we’ve been spending time together.” Half true, you hadn't even brought up your grandmother to Javier but you hoped to soon. You flick your gaze upward and your brother is stone face, internalizing all that you laid out, all the deception, you feel the trust between you two chipping piece by piece.

Your grandma, he whispers to himself and instantly frowns. He pulls you close to him tightly. You stay in the embrace for long, beginning to cry in shame. Feeling sick to lie to him this way, sob while he believes it’s because of your paternal trauma.

He’ll never forgive me.

Your brother leaves and it takes a few hours of complete isolation for you to feel anything at all. Sitting with your legs crossed in your bedroom, reliving all the good and bad in your story. Trying to pin-point all the wrong Frankie has done to justify lying to him the way you did. It’s radio silence in your room as you numbly pack, each corner tucked and rolled is a reminder of all the relationships you’re ruining. You think of your mother as you pack, you think of every time you packed a bag or lack thereof.

There were few things your mother did for you. By fourteen you were made to make your own dinner, pay for your own hair cuts, and keep up with your dentist appointments. But the one thing you could always rely on with your mother was her packing skills. She’d watch you struggle and let out an exasperated sigh before shoving you out the way and taking matters in her own hands.

Now at 9 pm you feel your mothers presence at the doorway while you struggle. It’s slight, the breeze surrounding her body, you feel the narrowed eyes peeled to the back of your head, the room pulsing with anticipation.

Will you be my mother again?

The weak part of you pleads.

But she closes the door for you without another word. And it's so silly but you begin to tear up, it's done once and for all.

You try your best to sleep that night but you find it impossible. You arrive at your class 10 minutes late with the students shaking their heads when they observe the cup of coffee in your hand. Class goes as good as it could be considering it was antsy eighth graders who had failed their algebra final. Two more weeks of summer school, one more month until you make a decision on your classroom. It makes you giggle a bit being called Ms. Diaz.

Javier doesn't call you Monday night but you know it's for the better. You know once you hear his voice you’ll miss him and you shouldn't do any more secret rendezvous until your family quits the speculation. You’ll have him all weekend, you'll have him in a few days.

On Tuesday you come home from work to a stranger taking care of your baby sister. Slowly your mother cuts off your purpose in her home. Hiring a nanny named Florencia, you still pick up Sol and give the nanny a break. Rolling your R’s in her face and watching as she attempts to mock you, she gets fed up. She smiles and pulls on your hair.

You’ll miss her the most you think, sometimes she makes you believe maybe you’ll be a good mother.

Wednesday ebbs and flows, you see Javier at the market. He stops in his tracks at the end of the aisle, strangely reminiscent of when he saw you for the first time after his year away. You in your bikini top and him in his dark jacket in 7/11. This time Javier looks around for on lookers and you do the same before he stalks you down the aisle, pushing your cart away before grabbing at your cheeks for a quick kiss that has your chest heating.

He steps away from you, creating distance in case a customer comes by. No one would know how had just kissed her.

You blush profusely and before you could tease him a worker passes you with a cart and begins stocking right next to the two of you.

“My dad is waiting in the truck.” Javier blurts, you take this moment to appreciate his attire. You want to ask if he dresses up this nice every time he goes for errands, you on the other hand… how funny would that kiss look to onlookers? A fully suited Javier pressing his lips to you in an oversized flannel and denim shorts.

You nod, “Okay…”

Javier looks over at the nosy employee, the two of you knew who the worker was, he was in Genie’s graduating class. Javier rolls his tongue in his cheek annoyed with their interaction being startled and it would be far too obvious to take the conversation elsewhere. Tilting his head to the ceiling and that familiar Peña sass you're so used to. He narrows his eyes at the worker again and shakes his head. Your cheeks hurt from the active attempt to not laugh.

“I’ll see you around Andrea, you look great.” He teases, his hand squeezing our shoulder. The worker stops his stocking at that and Javier doesn't give you the opportunity to pinch him because he's walking away.

Thursday you attempt to finish packing, stomach flipping at the thought of being on the road with Javier at 5 am the next day. Ten hours on the road and 3 nights alone. You stuff your birth control in between your towel and going out dress.

Right before bed, Javier calls your home phone. You aren't given the time to say hello.

“Are you okay?” He urges beyond the line. Your brows pull tight, your eyes dart to your packed back on the floor and to your clock, 10 pm.

“Yeah…are you okay?” You laugh and to your surprise he doesn't laugh back.

“Frankie came to my house today.”

Your heart skips a beat and you sit up in bed. Fuck. “O-okay what did he say?”

“I dont know… I just, I’m so sorry. I apologized to him for writing him off but you never told me about you eating or your grandmother I’m so-”

Your ears run hot, “Oh god he told you! I’m going to fucking kill him, jesus christ Frankie”

“Andrea let me see you, I can't wait until the morning. I need you to know.”

“Javi… please. My struggle was my business and it wasn't you or whatever, I was going through a lot more than you leaving at that time. I-” Your voice dies for a moment but you continue before Javier could cut you off. “I would rather talk about this tomorrow, please Javi.”

He’s silent for a moment, a beat, in that silence your brain clicks, Oh my god I haven't even told him about my grandmother.

“My grandmother”

“Your grandma” You both say in sync but you allow him to continue. “Your fathers mother contacted you, why didn't you tell me?” He says softly.

It wasn't intentional, at least you don't think it was. You're not sure when was the appropriate time to bring it up without it seeming like you accepted this weekend trip for a free ride. “She wants to meet me, she lives in Baton Rouge. I just didn't want to feel like I was just using you for a ride.” You sigh, afraid to admit. The thoughts of maybe being accepted by your father or a grandmother or an aunt, anyone. Your breath shudders. “I know… I know it's stupid but I’m so desperate for a family Javi.” You whisper.

He lapses into another silence. In those seconds you grew embarrassed with yourself, with your desperation. You felt a pang of ungratefulness, you saying this to someone who watched his mother walk out. You think of the people who have no one. You think of your own mother whose parents passed while she was a teen. Why did I say that?

“We’ll go see her on our way back home.”

Your brows pull together “What?” You frown.

“You should never feel like you're using me, I’ll take you Sunday to meet your grandmother.” You're silent again in a space between disbelief and expectation until he pushes you over the edge. “And… I am your family, you will always have me. But I think you know that.”

Your breath dies again, your chin quivering out of control.

I love you. How desperately you want to tell him, Javi, I love you so much.

Your mother is awake when you load your bags into Javier’s truck. You hear her rattling in the bathroom when you tie your shoes, you know she’ll watch from the window in her robe when you buckle in so when Javier grabs your bags you distance yourself, avoiding whatever affection he itches to show you.

You exhale when he settles in. He looks awfully handsome today, already dressed in conference attire. A lovely fitted mustard button down and black pants, his eyes flitting down to the glittering watch on his left wrist. And he tries to lean in again and you turn your head towards the window, and he gets the message. Still mutters curses regardless and pulls out of your street.

It takes 30 seconds to be on an empty dirt road and hes dangerously leaning to bite on your exposed shoulder, “Missed you querida, taste so sweet.” He grits and your redden straight down to your chest before letting out a ticklish giggle. You wiggle your hand around his head and tug his head off of you by the root of his hair. He looks at you with wet parted desperate lips and good god, you want him to pull over but–

“Eyes on the road agente.”

His eyes narrow and he shakes away his urge and continues down the road. You roll your neck, what an awful night of sleep you've had. You kick off your sandals and bring your knees to your chest. Leaning your cheek on your knee and you admire the man next to you. Sunrise splitting the pretty green trees, creating a lovely canary colored cast on the strong of his nose and eyes. His eyes, your stomach jumps, what lovely lashes on a man. You're envious.

It's silent until you're out of town and heading in the direction of George West, his eyes side glancing at you and double takes. His right palm covers your knee and pats, “Don't sit like that, it's dangerous.” Your lip quirks and you comply, remembering when he had said the same thing on your way to Liandra’s quince six years ago. He smirks at how quickly you obey, his calloused hand inching slowly up your leg and under your dress.

Your lip is between your teeth instantly and you part your legs. Hands at the end hem of your pearl colored dress.

Eyes still on the road he drags his fingers against your thin panties, your breath hitches as your buck your hips to give him more space, instead he slips his fingers in the space below, cupping you. The bumpy road jerks your core against his palm, you gasp and he chuckles.

“Javi…” You rub yourself on his palm, your free hand gripping his wrist. Your eyes fluttering closed, feeling the ball of his palm create the most necessary friction on your clit. Your panties ruined already, he must love the feel of the wetness seeping through.

His eyes stay on the road the whole time, “Hurry up, two more minutes and we hit a town.” He keeps his cool while you unravel next to him, inching towards an orgasm at dawn. And you let go of his wrist and run your hand up over your dress, needing as much touch as possible. You grip at your breast and hump his palm faster. This, this is quite the sight because despite your shut eyes you can feel Javier’s distracted gaze. “Christ, yeah baby let me see you.” Shamelessly you pull the top of your dress down, exposing your pretty peaked nipple and thats it.

Javier is moving his hand from under you and swerving the car off road. Thankfully these backroads won't see anyone but long haul truckers at this time because you're still so disoriented from the neared climax you don't think to fix yourself up but from the way Javier puts the car in park you know you wont need to fix anything. You're unbuckling and slipping your panties off instantaneously and he follows.

Unbuckling, unzipping and pulling out his erection. And to hell with thinking twice because the sight of him aching and twitching against his shirt has you scrambling on top of him.

His hands steading you as your hand slips between you, grabbing ahold of him with his tip prodding your entrance. You sink down, you moan softly but Javi is letting out a throaty rasp. Still you aren't used to the stretch of him especially from this angle. Your dress pools around the two of you, blocking any view of your bodies connecting.

No time to get used to this position, immediately he's driving his hips into you and you're bouncing, riding Javier. His hands gripping your ass, the windows fogging as the car fills with no sounds but grunts, whimpers and slaps. His mouth open and sucking at any inch of skin, finally his mouth suctioning your breast. Your hands tugs at his hair as you make a mess on his lap, the zipper of his pants will leave a mark you just know it. And you feel it, the pit, the dizziness, he feels you clench around him.

“C’mon Andrea, make a mess on me.” He grits, and you comply once again squeezing him tightly, leaking onto his lap. You're crying in pure pleasure and at your final call of his name he’s spilling into you, warm and just as messy.

He holds you tighter as the two of you float, still blurry eyed and dazed. You catch your breath together.

Like always you're so limp and fucked out that he takes it upon himself to disconnect the two of you and adjusts your dress. Planting sweet kisses in your hair, feeling empty and gaping you find it hard to move but he does it for you once again, guiding you back to your seat, buckling you in.

And like that you sleep for the next 3 hours of the drive

“Six more hours querida… We’re in Inez… according to the map.”

You wake to his right hand tangled in your hair, supporting your neck. You take a few seconds to realize that you're curled up in the passenger's seat of Javier’s truck. Squeezing your eyes tightly adjusting to the full blown daylight, eyes darting to the time, 8:40 am.

“Oh my god, do you want to switch?” You panic, you hadn't even offered splitting the labor. The ride was nine and a half hours at the very least and even harder navigating with a map. You had never driven for longer than two hours but it seems Javier is used to this sort of commute.

His face screws in disapproval and his fingers scratch at your head. “Todo bien, you can take the last hour. We should arrive by 2, the social lunch is at 3 but we can skip that.”

You nod, rubbing your eyes letting out an annoyed noise when his hand slides away from its place in your hair. Back to both hands on the wheel, your eyes flash down to the skirt of your dress and you feel clean? Your eyes dart to Javier’s lap and he's changed into a brown formal pant. “Did you–?”

His eyes follow yours and land back on the rolling roads, he nods. “Yeah, I cleaned you up when you were asleep and I changed… not sure how I would explain to Agent Messina what the wet spot on my pants was.”

Your brows shoot high and you laugh, “Fair point…” A fleeting feeling of uncertainty brushes you at the reference to another agent. You were alright in social settings but you're a school teacher for crying out loud, you have no idea what sort of people you’re about to encounter. In your head you see yourself walking into a dining hall full of suited men whispering and beating around the bush when asked questions of their career. You picture Javier in that setting, how you've rarely ever seen that ultra serious demeanor and disinterested aura. Rarely, but you have seen it, you remember just how cold he can be when you think of him shouldering Xavier out of his way nearly a month ago. You think of how stern he can be with you at times. Why does the thought of him working such a dangerous job scare and turn you on at the same time.

“So…” You drag in between the silence, “What should I expect this weekend.”

“Well, today there's the DEA social lunch thing, they're holding it so the bell hops could take our things up.”

You wiggle your brows, “Fancy…”

“Yeah, well after that we can settle in but from 7 to 9 I have a mandatory conference with my new co-workers, Colombia co workers.” He clarifies and you nod. “Then we have the night to ourselves. The guys will probably want to get drinks but we do whatever you want.”

Your chest heats, you almost want to roll your eyes at him. “Whatever… Okay and Saturday?”

“I have my long conference, 10:30 am until 2:30 pm.”

You let out a low whistle, “Four hours, jeez. Is it top secret?”

He rolls his eyes, “Probably. Don't take it personally, you knowing I’m leaving because of Pablo Escobar is enough.”

“Yeah, yeah… and after that?”

“Right, it’ll be time just for us. French quarters maybe?”

You beam, “Yeah maybe. Are any of your office friends going away to Colombia?” The question leaves you before you can form a purpose for it. Sure you'd love to meet the friends he might've made in Houston but a small part of you worries some people there will be aware of the existence of Lorraine and they will be aware of you, not being her. Afraid of a possible awkward conversation, oh god who are you to Javi? How will he introduce you–

“I think two guys from my section should be coming along. Felipe, he’s likable and polite. Dominican guy, but there's also Julian… not a fan.” His hand goes for the cup holder, fishing out a cigarette and you narrow your eyes at him. “Will you light me?” He asks.

Still with a scalding glare you grab his light and wait for him to slip the stick between his lips. “I’m just being helpful but I don't approve.” You strike the flame with your thumb and light him up. He mumbles a thank you and continues.

“Julian is in his mid thirties, kind of upset about my age and all that. He also got into it with Lorraine at a Christmas party a few years back.”

“Oh… what happened?”

Confirmed, you're going to die. His co-workers have met his long term girlfriend and now he's bringing you… his… oh god, are they going to think you’re in some ménage à trois? You hear stories from your college friends about white collared men and their wandering hands.

Javier taps his cigarette on the window, his face wondering how to start this story. But he starts with all of it, “When I got moved to train and work with the DEA me and Lorraine were in a trying to make it work phase.” Drag, “You know she’s very outgoing but she can get real defensive when she has a drink in her system. Anyway we had argued the night before so tensions were high when I decided to bring her to our christmas party.”

Your brain flashes briefly an image of Lorraine holding your arms telling you you’re beautiful on New Year’s eve, guilt and shame bolt through you, you tune out a small portion of his story thinking of Lorraine and her kindness towards you.

“…Julian decided to comment on Lorraine’s outfit choice. I mean you know how she was, very conservative being pastors daughter but when she wanted to dress up she… you remember what she wore to New Years?"

Your eyes widen, “How can I forget!” Custom made orange jumpsuit, you could’ve dropped dead from jealousy that night.

“Well he made a comment about me letting her leave the house in her outfit.”

You scoff, “Well whatever he had coming he deserved it.” You murmur, you hated that. You know that it was typical for women to comply with what their partners want them to wear but not for your generation. That was the time of your parents, every girl now wants to dress like Madonna and it’s great.

Javier laughs, “Yeah he did… Lorraine straight up called him… and I quote, 'a lonely short man with the complex of a man who’s 6 foot'. And slapped his drink from his hand, got all over his suit.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter, imagining the face on this stranger. The two of you laugh together at the image, but once the laughs died you fell into that familiar space of trepidation. You bask in the light silence while your brain ticks off the uncomfortable feeling of missing her as a friend. The strange sting that maybe she’ll never want to speak to you again.

“Hey…” Javi calls, ashing his cigarette in the cup holder. “¿Todo chido?”

You frown, “I don’t know… it’s stupid.” Your gaze averts out the window, passing a mall and some rest stop. His hand reaches out to your knee giving it a squeeze of encouragement. Whatever, “I kind of feel guilty? I know you two aren’t together but there’s a part of me that still wants her in my life. I liked being her friend that year.” You find it embarrassing to admit but most things are out in the open now with you and Javi, you have no time to keep these little feelings to yourselves, it’s what tore you apart for so long.

Javier’s grip loosens and your frown deepens as he retrieves it entirely. You look to him this time and his eye twitches slightly, you know it does that when he’s keeping something hidden. No time for that. “What Javi.” You say sternly.

His head darts to you and back to the road, “Nothing…”

“Javi.”

“Alright. With Lorraine… don’t feel guilty. She had your mind made up about you once she started college. I think her friends opened up to what was right in front of her.”

You lips twitch in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Javier sighs, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight now. “Well… I suppose they made her realize that you were a part of our relationship failing.”

“Me?” You had no part in that, he told you they had problems before the two of you kissed, before. The whole time it was all you, your crushing and whatever. You now know Javi had feelings for you then but you thought it was a back burner issue, from the stories you’ve heard it seemed like Lorraine and him were just too hot headed to be together.

“Well me more-so but it’s easier to fester dislike for someone you don’t have to face every night, so ever since then she’s kinda built a dislike for you.”

Oh.

Your heart is stuck somewhere again, this time between relieved and sad. Sad that after all these years of being jealous you still craved being her friend, yet it didn’t go both ways you suppose. And relieved that she already disliked you instead of possibly dropping the, hi I know we were close while you dated Javier but now I’m fucking him!

“Never mind then…” You drag, “Well I’m sure giving her a reason to hate me.”

Javier shrugs, “Everyone hates us.”

You giggle although the thought is absolutely terrifying to you, “Yeah… that’s true.”

“We should talk about Frankie.” Javi pitches after your two hours of talking about everything and nothing. You groan and pull his hand to your mouth. Shaking your head you mumble into his palm.

“Can’t talk sorry.” He scoffs at your attempt and removes his hand, whatever… you murmur. “Okay… okay. You first, mine is too much.” And it was, you’d have to detail the side of your mother he may not know, tell him about how it used to be between you and Frankie and you’d have to tell him about the accusation from your mother.

Javi can tell it's eating you alive because he intertwined his fingers with yours the second the crease between your brows deepened. “He showed up to the house, I was scared shitless when he started the conversation with your name. The conversation… it didn't go the way I was expecting.” His voice is low for that last part, you comfort him this time, placing your free on top of the hold you two had. “I guess I hadn't realized how much of a bad friend I turned into once I left. I think I lost my way when I was in Houston, I pushed everyone to the side and I think the only person left without an apology was your brother.”

You recall the face your brother made the night Lorraine broke the Houston news. Despite being wrapped in your own panic your first instinct was to look at Frankie. Frankie stared off into the distance with the same face of worry he had when mama would yell at them, disassociating for a moment before Genie beams with excitement. He imitated a smile when squeezing Javier's shoulders in congratulations. When you really think about it, Javier had been your brother's only friend.

“He loves you a lot, you're his family. But we are all selfish, he deserved an apology but you cant torture yourself over being oblivious.”

And you swear you see Javier’s eyes welling, you want to lean over the console and comfort him but you leave him to it. You leave him to process, letting go of his hand. He reaches for another cigarette and you light it.

With the wrist of his smoking hand he rubs his eyes, “Okay… your turn.” He chuckles through a rasp of emotion.

You tell him all, about your father and how your mother only ever loved him and how your existence has always been a reminder of the heartache she felt that day. Javier holds onto your hand again when you tell him that Frankie was cruel to you until middle school, that he’d never comforted you, that Frankie softened up to you when Javi got in the picture. Javi couldn't believe that, it was true, no one had ever shown you kindness and Frankie attempted to follow suit. Instead it manifested in overprotection and control.

It ended with your grandmother, with your mother cutting you off and your crushing ache for– “I’ve never truly felt loved by my family, it always felt conditional. I guess I’m reaching out to my fathers side in hopes they’ll welcome me there.”

Javier stops at a red light and looks over to you. His mouth twitching in hesitation, “Regardless of what happens you will always have a family, no matter where we stand or if we hate each other in the next few months, you will never need to look for a family as long as I’m around.”

Valet, fancy.

You itch to comment when the bell hop takes your bags. You explore the lobby a bit while Javier is a few feet away from you getting directions to the lunch they were both craving so badly. You hoped you were properly dressed, it was a favorite dress of yours, it’s pearl color and your sandals had a wedge.

The lobby was lavish, mosaic tiles, gilded pillars and beautiful bouquets of flowers at every turn. And it couldn’t get any better. You look up and are met with beautiful ceiling paintings and glistening chandeliers. Jesus.

“Andrea!” Javi calls from across the room and you make your way toward him. The man he spoke to was moving away to handle business elsewhere. “Everyone’s down this hall, apparently it’s more so a cocktail hour.” You groan, hungry as could be. He takes hold of your hand, in a public space, you stomach grumbles and you can’t tell if it’s from lack of food or the idea of being like this with him. He laughs, bringing a hand to squeeze your stomach. “It’s alright, I’ll call up room service later we’re just going to show face.”

Show face indeed, the room is packed. And you're a bit underdressed, dressed for lunch while everyone in the room were suited and in cocktail dresses. Your brows raising at the sight of men with guns in their holsters. Sure you're from Texas but open carry wasn't as common near you. Then again you're walking into a room of DEA agents. Javi squeezes your hand, “My co-workers are over there.”

Through the room Javier is given nods and smiles. You are too, men and women alike smiling and nodding at you too. Ahead of you was a tall woman in her 40s with shoulder length black hair, the only woman in the room with a suit. Messina, you assume, next to him is a tall dark skinned man with short buzzed hair in a gray suit. Upon arrival Javier’s face splits into a smile and he lets your hand go to hug his coworker. Felipe, you assume.

You're left smiling and saying hello to Messina. “You look good, Vaquero.” He squeezes Javier’s waist as they part. “Missing your cowboy hat.” He jutts his chin towards Javier’s cowboy boots. Javier shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever Yank.” Northerner, funny. For a moment you feel out of place, standing at Javier’s side without a name or acknowledgement until Felipe extends a hand out to you.

“Pardon me, I’m from New York but I do have manners. What's your name sweetheart,”

Your brows raise at the sudden attention, you take his hand and he shakes it. Instinctually Javier steps closer to you. “Andrea, nice to meet you.”

“Beautiful name.” He smiles and looks back to Javier with raised brows. Javier squinted in distaste and snaked his around your waist to pull you into him. You smile down at your feet with a blush from both the compliment and also the way Javier’s hand felt so large splayed on your waist. “So…” He wiggles his brows and Javier scoffs at his co-workers nosiness.

Javier looks at you briefly, “So…” He mocks, “This is my girlfriend Andrea.”

Oh.

It's disarming the label coming from his lips, you feel a heat rise from your belly straight to your ears and cheeks. A small part of you is kicking yourself for reacting to such a label but its beautiful to the ears.

So you were his girlfriend, huh.

“Well she’s beautiful, right Messina?”

Messina smiles, “Indeed, you can call me Claudia.” She reaches out and you take her hand, cold and soft, reminding you of the hands of your mother.

“Can I call you Claudia?” Felipe beams.

“No.” She cuts and Javier stifles a laugh. You lean into Javier giggling at the interaction.

“Where’s your girlfriend Felipe, the receptionist?” Javi teases but Felipe seems to be equally as amused.

Felipe smiles, “Fiancé, she's around somewhere.”

You look up at Javier who looks absolutely stunned at the announcement, “No mames…” He drags and Felipe shakes his head. He was definitely not kidding, “Congrats, wow.” Javi blinks, his eyes scanning the room.

“This is perfect, you two could get to know each other during our meeting.” Felipe waves his finger around the air. Quickly his smile fades, “Good god… Julian coming your way. Have fun, lets go Messina, we've had enough of him today.”

And like that the two of them sip their cocktails and leave you and Javi stranded. “Fucking assholes.” Javi chuckles before Julian comes into view and Lorraine was right. He was a short man, shorter than you. His suit hung loose on his body but he was awfully handsome and muscular. Although it looked a bit silly with his stature, you smile at him.

“Javier Peña, who’s this?” He says in a far grosser and irritating way, no way near the way Felipe asked. He stood with a glass in his hand. Javier’s face falls into that face he rarely shows you, his stone cold agent face.

You speak before he can for you, “I’m Andrea, his girlfriend.” You offer your hand and he laughs condescendingly as he shakes it. Clammy.

“Girlfriend?” He looks at Javier, “This one has a far better dress, a bit underdressed but at the very least not indecent.” He elbows Javier’s side, referring to Lorraine, thinking you aren't aware of whatever unfunny joke he’s attempting to make. Javier’s nostrils flare and before he says anything he’ll regret, you cut in.

“Well you might need to head to the tailor for the pants. And the jacket lacks… a stain of booze.” You tease right back. His face drops entirely. Javier’s head snaps towards you and his mouth splits into a smile.

He grabs your arm, “Alright, she’s had a few too many, we're going to our room.” He begins to drag you away and you giggle.

“I haven't had a drop!” You exclaim and he laughs, leaving Julian in the dust as he walks you through the room.

“You're crazy.” He shakes his head concealing his chuckle as you two exit the room. The air conditioning hits you hard once you leave the bustling room. In an instant he’s hauled you over his shoulder in the hotel hall, “Alright let's go have sex.”

You shriek from being off ground as he runs in the hall towards the elevator with you dangling over his shoulder.

Back in Laredo Lorraine calls Genie apologizing about not being able to attend her bachelorette party. Genie and Lorraine had stayed in contact all 6 years, close enough that Genie had Lorraine’s name down as a possible bridesmaid.

“It really is fine, i’ll be a dud anyway I can’t drink.” Genie jokes, she told Lorraine that she’s trying to get pregnant but not that she’s actually carrying. She excuses her new dry lifestyle on not wanting to gain weight before the wedding. In reality all she’s been doing is gaining weight.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, how’s the wedding planning going? Almost a week, are you ready?” She beams, sitting on the counter top of the apartment her and Javi shared. She had half her things packed to come home for the wedding.

Genie chuckles, “Girl, that’s none of my business. That’s all Andrea and Ms. Diaz.”

Lorraine bites the inside of her cheek at the sound of your name. She wonders if you and Javier have seen each other since he went home or if you still held that fiery personality and kept distance.

“Andrea… How’s she doing?” Lorraine closes her eyes, a bit fearful of how it sounded.

“Oh Andrea? She’s good, teaching school and all that. She’s on a little weekend trip with Javier though. She deserves a break.”

Lorraine feels her cheeks heat in jealousy.

“Are they—? You know, together?”

She doesn’t care now, she feels it’s her right to know. Genie is silent for a moment and each second that passes Lorraine is angrier.

“No, they aren’t. You know they’ve always been close.”

“Well she’s always had a crush on him though, knowing Javier they’re probably fucking somewhere… that fucking man…”

“Alright, no need to speculate.” Genie interrupts. “It’s their business, but I’m highly doubtful.”

Lorraine scoffs and looks down at her growing belly. Her brows furrowing and a sudden wave of hope.

“Right…” She flattens her hand there, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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enlitment · 4 months

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Top 5 lines written by Catullus!

Thank you for the ask (and for indulging me!). I may stretch the definition of what can realistically be considered 'a line' a bit, but it's for the sake of context, I promise!

C 31: Sirmio

O what freedom from care is more joyful/ than when the mind lays down its burden/and weary, back home from foreign toil/ we rest in the bed we longed for?

This one is just incredibly relatable for anyone coming back home from any long trip! It is just as true now as it was more than 2000 years ago.

2: C 99: Stolen Kisses: to Iuventius

you have handed wretched me over to spiteful Love/nor have you ceased to torture me in every way/so that for me that kiss is now changed from ambrosia/to be harsher than harsh hellebore

I've included this line mostly because I love the contrast between ambrosia and hellebore. I also think that there is something powerful and effective about taste metaphors, yet I don't see them used very often. Here, it manages to beautifully illustrate poor Catullus' feelings in this particular situation! (Though obviously, you shouldn't go on kissing people out of the blue. That's kind of on him.)

Poor Catullus, getting rejected by both women and men, left and right

3. Attis

So, rapidly, from sweet dream and free of madness/ Attis recollected his actions in his thoughts/ and saw with a clear heart what and where he had been/ turning again with passionate mind to the sea.

Nothing like the pain of the morning after, am I right?

In all seriousness, all of Attis is amazing. The language (even the translations, I sadly cannot appreciate the original), the imagery, the links to mythology, it's all so beautiful. It's also such a rich area for analysis - I've thought about it a lot, but I'm sure if barely scracthed the surface at this point.

I personally see it as an expression of the fear of emasculation that comes with being deeply obsessed with a female lover (as he was with Lesbia)? I cannot claim any expertise beside having read all of his work and knowing some of the context of his life + the Roman views on masculinity. I've also read a few opinions of people arguing for a possible trans reading, which is incredibly interesting as well.

4. C 9: Back from Spain: To Veranius

You’re back. O happy news for me!/ I’ll see you safe and sound and listen/ to your tales of Spanish places that you’ve done/ and tribes, as is your custom, and/ hang about your neck, and kiss/ your lovely mouth and eyes

I don't know, just something about him expressing such genuine joy about being reunited with his friend seems incredibly sweet. (Also introduces the idea of kissing someone on the eyes which. Um. Seems to be an ongoing thing for Catullus. Sure, you do you.)

5. C 64: Epithalamium for Peleus and Thetis

The Minoan girl goes on gazing at the distance/ with mournful eyes, like the statue of a Bacchante/ gazes, alas, and swells with great waves of sorrow

Again, I just love the whole poem. It is probably my favourite Catullus poem (along with C 50, but they have very different vibes). I find it fascinating that a male poet can empathise so much with the female perspective (which is a bit of an ongoing theme in his poetry). I cannot help but think that he must have personally related to Ariadne's pain, being rejected by his former lover - Lesbia - like she was by Theseus. It would certainly help to explain how he was able to portray her state of mind with such incredible depth and complexity.

I also adore the beauty of the language and the many references to Greek mythology of course.

#catullus #gaius valerius catullus #tagamemnon #classics #classical studies #latin #classical poetry #poetry #greek mythology #roman republic #ancient rome #ask game #thanks for the ask! ✨

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theheirofthesharingan · 1 year

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How do you think itachi and shisui would be as lovers? (Separately not together lol)

Thanks for clarifying because I see them as brothers and the first part kind of surprised me. xD

(answering this from a woman's perspective because i'm one).

Shisui would be the sweetest lover, the greenest flag. The kind that brings her flowers, is kind and patient, goes on dates, listens to her, makes her comfortable in case there is anything bothering her. He'd be the kind of person that makes her lose the track of time and any time spent with Shisui would not be enough, because he's great at talking too. It's like she wants to stretch the minutes and hours spent with him doing nothing because all the conversations and silences shared between them are beautiful. Shisui would be the loudest cheerleader and the quietest support system, too.

(look, he's so handsome. my heart!)

Itachi is... like a cat. Aloof, distant, miserable (yes, even in a non-massacre AU), and wants affection on his own terms. Just kidding about the last part. He's an Uchiha so he obviously loves her very deeply. But his love would be of the quieter kind. Casting soft, shy glances, often blushing, and lingering gazes, but never gathering enough courage to actually talk until Sasuke decides to play wingman for his brother. Instead of movies and dates frequently Itachi would be the long drives/long walks kind of guy. He'd like to spend more time alone with her, expressing his love in little gestures. He'd love it when his lover and his mom get along well. He'd make it a mandatory condition that the woman he loves must love his little brother too like he does. And no way someone is not going to love Sasuke. Even if they ever argue and she needs his support in any way, he'd stand by her side, looking kind of grumpy with an I'm-still-mad-at-you-but-I-love-you face. If someone misbehaved with her, that man is dead. Quite literally. Itachi would be the softest man in love. Immensely vulnerabie, showing the broken parts of him he doesn't show anyone. On the surface he might look tough, but deep down he's not. He deserves someone who would love him for who he is. He better find someone like that.

PS. I didn't include anything suggestive because this blog is totally SFW. But you can imagine them both being great at everything they do.

#shisui #itachi #ask #anon

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sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee · 2 years

Text

"Happy Birthday to you, doll!"

A very lovely, lovely birthday to my dear friend @itsmalachitenow, featuring her two favorite batman rogues Scarecrow and Mad Hatter! She's one of my favorite people in the world, so please join me in wishing her a wonderful day. As a note this is very personalized with her self insert Lyric Adagio.

TW: NSFW 🔞, dollplay, oral, penetration, hypnosis, plot with porn, x self insert

That morning when Lyric Adagio woke up, she noticed the large bed she shared with her two lovers was empty. Did they both get up without her? A pleasant smile played on her face. They probably wanted to let her sleep, given today was her special day. Despite what anyone else might think, her boys did treat her so well.

In the other room she could hear the whistle of the Mad Hatter's teapot and smell pumpkin pancakes on the stove. Oh, they were definitely setting up for her birthday. Jonathan Crane, also known as the Scarecrow, made the best pancakes. Perfectly fluffy and the pumpkin was deeply comforting. She stretched out her arms and yawned.

The cold of the hardwood floor under her feet gave her just enough jolt to look around. Next to the bed was a pill organizer and a bottle of water, which she quickly used to wash down medication for the morning.

Their home… an eclectic and almost haphazard mix of three different aesthetics. Alice in Wonderland motifs galore, along with video game and movie merchandise and somehow the occasional glimpses of the Southern Gothic. It worked for them. It made her smile every morning, a constant reminder of their presence even when they had to be apart.

Not today, however. This whole weekend was going to be all about her. A planned dinner out with her loved ones and friends and the rest of the time? Private time to two of the most infamous of the Rogues Gallery, all to herself.

As she entered the kitchen and dining area, she could see Jon finishing off pancakes in a pile and a thing of bacon about to be put on. Jervis was pouring tea in three separate cups at the table, a grin on his face as he spotted her.

The moment the kettle was set down, he was running to her and twirling her around. His voice rang out sing-song, "Aaaaaa very happy birthday to you!"

"To me?" Lyric giggled.

"To you!" He stopped just short so she could get her breath, "Oh Alice, I'm so pleased we get to celebrate yet another year of you… existing!"

"Hm?" Jon called out in monotone, yet a smile played on his face, "Is today some sort of special day?"

"Pooh-pooh, Marchie!" Jervis blew out his cheeks in protest, "You know perfect-ly well! None of us are exempt from the time spell."

"And now you're rhyming." He flips the last pancake onto the side plate.

Lyric was practically jumping on her toes, "Aw, but Jon, my heart is in a swell! You know that's his cutest tell. He can't be the Mad Hatter and rest just on his laurels!"

Jervis couldn't help the giggle that came from his throat, clapping his hands in delight, "Very good, Alice!"

Jon quickly turned, spatula in hand, "Don't you encourage him! …happy birthday, my dear." The mock frustration on his face quickly melted away to a warm smile. He held his arms out to her as she approached.

"Did you take your morning medication?" Jon asks as she leans in for a kiss on his cheek.

She grins, "Yeah, Doc, I did." There's an amused chuckle in response. The first time she had gotten discombobulated from forgetting night or morning medication, Jon took it upon himself to ask when he was home. It was one of several subtle ways he told her how much he loved her.

Another was the way he would make her plate to always include a tad extra food, even if she wasn't going to eat it. He knew what it was like to have food scarce or kept away from you. It was a feeling he'd never wish on someone else. And so, his loved ones would always have more than enough.

Jervis sat in the seat across the table from her, chin in his hands and his tongue sticking out just a tad, "There's already milk on the table. I know what you like!" And she'll watch as he puts far too much sugar and cream into his. Though… hers isn't much better.

"The reservations are clear for tomorrow night, by the way." Jon called above the sizzle of bacon, "And everyone cleared their schedules." It made him happy to say it. Just for you, dear. They all want to be with you on your day.

"Even-"

"Even the Cheshire Cat, yes!" Jervis interrupts.

Lyric mixes her tea and comments, "Oh man, I thought Edward was going to be out of town?"

"He was until he heard he got his dates mixed up. You know how that man is with dates." Jon rolls his eyes and jokes, "The illustrious Riddler- the genius Riddler- amazing at everything he touches but can't be bothered to keep track of the days when he hyper focuses on his work." The only time that man ever paid attention was when he was forced to- like in Arkham.

Lyric smiles. He canceled plans? The others really do all like her. She tries not to cry into her cup of tea. It took a minute for the rest of them to warm up, but… old friends and new friends and her parents. All together.

"I'm so happy." She sighed, "The only thing is that's gonna be so many spoons."

"Which is why today is about relaxing, pet!" Jervis cooed, "No flare-ups on our watch!"

Lyric felt her shoulders relax as Jon put a plate of food in front of her. He sat down between them, briefly bowed his head and then started to eat. She wondered briefly if this meant they weren't going to do anything today. Which was fine, she understood why, but… she was rather hoping they were going to do something, even if it was small.

Jon, as if sensing this, had a sly smile on his face, "I think we should open presents after."

"Presents?" Jervis and Lyric both chattered.

"Wait, why are you excited?" Lyric asked.

"Because, dear Alice…" Jervis grinned, "I know what your present is." The look on his face sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine.

A nervous laugh, "I am excited but also afraid!"

"All I could ever hope for, dearest." Jon flirts.

Certainly, it gave her reason to finish up breakfast, tea, and then brush her teeth. Get situated on the couch in their modest living room to wait for her presents. Midnight, the taxidermied crow, watched with glass eyes from a nearby bookshelf. There was that sparkle in her eyes that attracted them both at the various times they first met. That wonder she met the world with.

Jervis stood there with a larger set of boxes in his arms, meticulously wrapped with hand-tied bows. Meanwhile Crane dug into a nearby cabinet, moving various things out of his way to pull out a bundle- book shaped and wrapped in newspaper and twine. Jervis made a movement with his hand for Jonathan to go first.

“Age before beauty.” Jervis jokes.

Jon sniped, “Where in the world did you even hear that? One of your reality shows?”

“I do not WATCH-” If Jervis hadn’t been holding things, his hands would have gone to his hips.

Satisfied with the reaction he managed to get, Jon handed the bundle to Lyric, “You said how much you like hand-made gifts. Both of us decided to partly do that this year.”

Trying to stifle a laugh at their banter, Lyric took the present in her hands, delicately pulling away the twine in her lap. As the newspaper fell away, she could see a leather bound book, the binder sewn by hand. The binding was thick and sturdy, obviously recycled. As she flipped through, she realized these pages were of perfect quality for sketching.

Her eyes were wide, “You made me a new sketchbook?!” She was quick to get up and wrap her arms over Jon, the book tight in her hands.

“It was a new venture, certainly,” He kissed the top of her head, “I managed to purchase some inks as well that I think you’ll have fun experimenting with. Either for writing or sketching.” Out of her line of sight, he gave a thumbs up to Jervis, who began lining up his presents along the living room table. He grabbed up the newspaper to toss to the floor for now.

As Lyric turned back around, she looked over the boxes with curiosity, “Is this where I should be scared?”

“Positively frightened.” Jon learned to whisper in her ear, hand on her shoulder. The tickle of air on her ear made her shiver.

Biting her lip, Lyric sat down in front of them, and Jervis plopped down on the couch next to her. Jon managed to slink his way behind them, with his lanky arms draped over the back. She went to the smaller boxes first- ribbons for her hair, stockings, some very comfortable but still sensual lingerie… And a pair of women’s oxford shoes. Lace up, black and white with a small chunky heel.

She knows what’s in the largest box.

Jervis is positively brimming with anticipation next to her, “You’re going to relax today- We had just the thing! Doll you up… and put you on a string.” There’s a dark tone to his voice, not playful like he normally would be. It’s sultry, inviting. She can feel him edging closer to her.

The box opens and her hands immediately go to the soft fabric of a blue-green dress. She’s careful not to grab at it in a way that’ll wrinkle it. Jervis wordlessly assists to stand and take it out to show her.

“Jervis… It’s beautiful.” She sighs, smiling at all the details. There’s cotton lace patterns along the bottom and accent edges, poofy skirts and frilly long sleeves. When he turns it around, she sees the faux ties in the back hiding a zipper to ease her way into wearing it. A lovely combination of her tastes and sensible fashion for her body. For a moment her eyes close as she pictures herself wearing it. She can feel Jonathan weaving his fingers lightly through the hanging strands of her hair.

His voice is lower, more graveled, “Shall we begin treatment?” She recognizes it. It’s the voice he wears when he dons the Scarecrow mask. Unfortunately for her, it’s also a weakness in which he’s keenly aware of.

“How do you want to do this, dear?” Jervis licks his lips as he asks, “With assistance?”

Lyric thought about it for a brief moment. She knows why he’s asking. Whenever he used any of his skills and devices of the mind, he always managed to whisper in her ear that her muscles felt light, like air. It allowed movement and positioning that normally would leave her aching afterwards. Yet he would never just assume she wanted to be put even slightly under without asking first. It showed how their relationship had developed over time the longer they’d been together.

She nodded, “Just a little.” One of her eyes winked and she made a motion with her fingers indicating a small amount. Jon’s hands went flat over her shoulder in reassurance.

Jervis, even in his casual wear, kept a pocket watch on him at all times. Just in case. Gold, with an engraving of the white rabbit from the original book illustrations of Alice in Wonderland on the back. This particular watch was an anniversary gift from her. The moment it was opened and she saw the black and white of numbers, and could hear the ticking of the second hand- her mind already began to relax.

“Oh, Alice, dear Alice…” Jervis cooed, “We’re sure to find something to fit your palate. Relax and we’ll tell those muscles to mollify- Any pain you feel we will therefore nullify.” Immediately Lyric feels any tenseness in her muscles wash away like water on the beach.

The smile on her face was soft and happy, “That feels nice, thank you.” It was through dedicated practice that it was effective this quickly. At this point she practically hopped and skipped over extra steps with grace.

“What a pretty little doll we’ve found.” Jon’s voice has gotten close to her ear, helping tilt her chin with his hand.

Jervis compliments, “Yes… But we simply must dress her in something more fitting, don’t you agree? This simply won’t do!”

Lyric could feel the flush go to her cheeks and ears as they spoke. Trying to “behave” and not break the character. The Mad Hatter stood in front of her, holding out his hands for her to grasp so she could be pulled to her feet. Her feet were slightly shaky from being too relaxed, something Jon helped to manage by swiftly moving from behind the couch to her side.

“Thank you.” She said, getting her balance, “It’s… been so long since someone has found me-”

Jonathan smooths a palm over her cheek and laid a soft kiss on her lips, “Shhh… You’re alright now, dear. Nothing can hurt you now that you’re ours.”

“Yours?” Lyric asked.

“Oh, yes!” Jervis added, “Completely ours in every way! Let’s start with this shirt-” Giggling with excitement, Jervis moves to pull the young woman's shirt up over her head while Jonathan holds her by the waist. Her nipples perk with the cold air, which he moves to fix with his hands massaging over her breasts. His mouth opens to kiss her on the mouth, his tongue moving to taste her.

“Patience.” Scarecrow reminds them both, “We’ve barely just begun.”

The other man is clearing his throat, “Y-yes, quite!”

The trio of them grinning and smiling, they guide Lyric to the bedroom, laying her softly on the bed. Jonathan unceremoniously pulls off her pajama bottoms and presses himself between her knees. Staring down at her. Observing her reactions. He thinks how beautiful she is with her hair splayed around her head. The warmth in her eyes. Softly he grasps her hands to help her sit up as Jervis brings in the stack of present boxes for them to go through. She can’t help but lean in closer to a clothed Scarecrow for warmth. His arms wrap around her back and shoulders as their partner sets up the “game.”

“Hmmm you’re so cute like this.” Jonathan whispers, “So difficult to wrap our doll up when we could have you just… like this...”

Now it’s Jervis tutting them, “Patience! Here, love.” His movements are slow as he slips white lacy underwear up her legs. Lyric pulls herself up on his shoulders so they can be pulled up over her hips. The light brushing of Jervis’s thumb and she realizes the underwear has no crotch, thin straps on either side of her pussy leaving her showing. She whimpers but tries to keep still as they pull over a matching sheer bralette on her top. Jonathan went to tweak her nipples as he felt the fabric.

“This one is perfect.” He says to Jervis, “She looks like an angel.”

Jervis sighs dreamily, “Isn’t she, though?”

At that she couldn’t help but give a nervous laugh and look down at the bed. It wasn’t new things they were saying, but… every time they did, she felt so special. Jonathan grasped her chin in his fingers to look at him and to kiss him, Jervis kneeling onto the ground with stockings. Lyric couldn’t help but gasp at Jonathan's mouth as their third began laying kisses over her thighs, her knees, her calf- Soft cotton easing its way up one leg and then the other. When she could look down, she saw a looping blue ribbon accenting the top of them, just underneath the frills.

Jonathan helped to straighten the fabric over her thigh and ghosted his face along her jawline, “Pretty as a pinup.” His statement was followed by a dry laugh. There’s definitely a box somewhere with scintillating photos of her that he snuck in during stays at Arkham. He helped her lean on him to get to her feet, both men staring her over.

Jervis takes the opportunity to grasp her in his arms and kiss her rapidly over her neck and shoulders to the point of having her laugh. His fingers crept down just above her pussy, teasing but not quite touching her clit. Her soft moans echoed in the room as Jonathan unzipped the dress and loosened the ties so she could step in. Jervis almost pouted, no longer having the easy access as he had to back away. The colorful fabric skirt slipped over her waist, poofing out over her hips. As the sleeves fit over her arms, the look was almost complete- She looked like a fairy tale princess. One of the harder parts of this sort of play besides the sexual tension was they always made her wait to see the whole thing until it was done.

“My lady,” Jervis held her shoes in front of her as Jonathan finished tying the dress in the back. He couldn’t help but kiss her leg again as she stepped in and he tied the laces.

Jonathan kisses the side of her neck, pulling her hair away, “Dolls are to be cherished and loved, isn’t that what you said Jervis?”

A soft giggle as he stands, patting his knees, “Oh yes, I’ve said that many times! I’ve always wanted one to pamper… We’re almost done dressing up.” He motions with his hand towards the mirrored vanity in the room. It was antique, something the boys found for this exact sort of scenario.

It was here they sat her down on the small bench in front of it, facing away from the mirror, hands pulling her hair away from her face. Soft brushes that felt like silk glided over her cheeks to apply blush. Jonathan's wiry fingers dabbed on lipstick slowly to match the curve of her mouth. He moved behind her to tenderly brush her hair as Jervis applied a dab of nude eyeshadow to the corners of her eyes. She was getting the full treatment today and she knew it was their way of truly making the day all about her. A ribbon weaved through her hair behind her ears and was tied in a bow atop her head, completing the look.

As her eyes glimmered, Lyric was slightly turned around on the bench until she was looking directly in the mirror and able to see herself clearly. She could hardly contain her excitement at the view in front of her. With a slight wobble, she managed to stand up on her own two feet to see the entirety of what they had done. Her hands went to the skirts and swayed them back and forth.

“I think she likes it.” Jonathan said, his finger crooking into one of the ribbons in the back of the dress.

Jervis went to tilt her head up, “I think so too! But now what shall we do? We’ve brought our doll home… we’ve dressed her up-”

“I was thinking something of a reward. For us.” The Scarecrow began to circle her, “And surely we can pamper her in other ways.”

Lyric’s knees pressed together where they couldn’t see. Something about it- the way they talked about her like she wasn’t in the room, listening to everything. She knew what came next. Her body practically leaned into Jervis as his hand went to the small of her back and his lips found its spot in the crook of her neck.

“Well doll?” Jonathan’s brow queried, “Why don’t you show us how else we could pamper you?”

The young woman’s hands shook as she grasped the fabric of the skirts in her hands, trying to remain cool and collected even as Jervis dragged his tongue along her skin. With a shaking breath, she lifted the dress in its front just high enough to see her wet pussy on display. Just as she could see Jonathan lick his lips in a crass gesture at her, she suddenly felt Jervis move one of his hands to paw at her between her legs. Not quite pressing in, his thumb moving gingerly over her clit as his fingers explored between her slit. She grasped onto his arm for anchor as she moaned. The skirts fell over to hide his hand, but he continued.

Jonathan clicked his tongue, “I was still looking at that, doll. Don’t you want to please me as well? Or is your brain too clouded with pleasure to think of much else?”

Before she could answer, Jervis plied a finger inside of her and his teeth grazed into her shoulder. Her voice came out choking, “Yes- I- I-” Her hips moved in time with Jervis’s ministrations, the anticipation bringing her ever higher. The scarecrow assisted by first yanking the skirt up to put in her hand- Then he took her lips to his to overwhelm her. Every moan and whimper she gave him just made him harder through his pants.

As his body brushed against hers, she could feel it against her bare skin. For a moment she wondered how this was going to go before Jonathan suddenly backed off.

“I think Jervis should have you first.” There was a smile on his face she didn’t quite trust.

Yet, Jervis, panting hard against her skin, agreed, “Yes, yes, don’t you fret, you’ll have your turn soon enough yet. I want to taste our pet.” And with that he and Lyric went to the bed, him remaining clothed as he pushed her to fall on her back on the plush comforter.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lyric could see Jonathan setting himself to sit one leg over his other crossed on the vanity bench. Staring. A closed mouth smile betraying how much he was getting off on this. The Mad Hatter was quick to push Lyric’s skirts back up and press her legs apart with his hands. With a moan, he went to kiss her thighs before moving to her pussy and diving right in with tongue. She couldn’t help but weave her hands and fingers into his hair as he tasted her right to the core.

It didn’t last long as his face peeked up over the fabric of her clothes, “Oh Alice, you taste delightful- I just know you’re going to feel even better…” She could hear him unzipping his pants and a groan of relief at what she assumed was him taking out his cock.

He managed to wiggle himself above her, kissing her on the lips, “See how good you taste? So delectable-” His cock lined up and pressed inside her aching cunt. He was average at most in length, but there was a thickness to him that always stretched her out just a little at first.

Not to mention the fervor in which he’d thrust up into her hips, always making sure they meet at the hilt no matter how he rushes. Like she’s the only person he could ever want. His hand pressed down over hers, holding them above her head by the wrist as his other balanced his weight.

“You feel so good, Alice- so… Just like I always-” All the foreplay leading up to now had him plenty wound up.

She managed to twist her hips up to meet him so he’d go deeper. A shiver went up her back, and she whimpered, “Please don’t stop, Jervis- Don’t let go.”

Seeing the sweetness of her face as she begged almost made him cum then and there. Yet Jervis knew he had to rein himself in, thrusting just a little slower to make himself last longer. As Lyric looks over to Jonathan, she can see he’s no longer sitting on the bench. Likely somewhere else in the room, watching. Normally, Jervis would be the volunteer to be a creepy voyeur for his enjoyment. Feeling his eyes on her was enough, Lyric could feel herself building to that first orgasm.

“I’m almost- Jervis!” She moaned as Jervis kissed her again, moving faster to stimulate her with his cock. With a grunt, he came, pressing in deep for just a moment before he kept going- Panting and practically unable to speak as he went. She could feel that warmth of his cum inside of her slipping out.

“Mine, mine, mine-” He murmured, “You’re all mine-” Almost like a prayer on his lips to keep him going despite his own overstimulation.

With an arch in her back, Lyric came over his cock, her wrists pressing hard against his hand. Thankfully, he was just that little bit stronger, a wide grin on his face as he watched her face contort in ecstasy. Then he lifted himself off of her with a kiss to the cheek. He was going to clean up while Jonathan had his fun. Just before Lyric could wonder where he was, a fully nude Crane was pulling her up into his lap. She was so malleable like this- something he took advantage of as he positioned her over his cock.

His voice was rich as he growled, “And now you’re all mine. Just what am I to do with such a pretty little thing?” Before she could answer, he began to press her hips and pussy down over him- thankfully only half way at first. He was thinner, but longer. Just enough that pressing her all the way down in the initial stroke would be cruel.

He lifted her, despite her agonized moans, “T-too much- S… Sensitive-” Yet he continued, knowing she was fully aware of their safeword or colors if it all got to be too much.

“I think you should be able to take both your masters' cocks in one sitting-” Jonathan chastised, “Perhaps next time we’ll even do both. This body is ours. You belong to us, beautiful doll.”

He’d been stroking himself off in the dark as he’d watched, pre-cum already lining his shaft. Mixing with Lyrics slick and Jervis’s cum inside of her. There could be something witty to be said about it, if he wasn’t so focused on trying to hit all of her sweet spots. Slow, methodical and agonizing was the way to drag out her pleasure like this. That with some choice verbiage and the tender way he held her midsection as he thrust all the way into her, was nearing her at another edge.

Jervis sat in front of her on the bed, head in hands as he stared at her lovingly. Helping pull the dress out of the way as her face flushed and she seemed to lose any possibility of praise or banter. Just crying out as Jonathan played with her clit with each even stroke.

“Our perfect doll…” Jervis cooed, petting her cheek.

All of it was too much- Lyrics second and final orgasm hit her like a large wave in the ocean, trickling out to smaller waves as she panted out her release. Jonathan held her there for a moment before lifting her off and handing her to Jervis to cuddle into as she came down. Grabbing a nearby tissue from a box, he jerked himself off to completion, hand on her arm to keep his mind on track. He could have kept going inside of her, but he figured she had been pressed far enough for one session.

He put his cock away after some quick cleaning and settled in behind her on the bed, his arms going across her waist. Kissing the back of her shoulder.

“Was that good?” Jervis asked, “A pleasant present for our dearest? You are now… fully awake, my control is no longer a suppressant.” He gave a small clap for good measure, pulling out the watch for her to hear the ticking.

With the weight back in her body, Lyric painted, “So good. Better than good. That was… That was fucking amazing.” She was almost breathless but laughing all the same. The smile on her face made Jervis feel so warm.

Jonathan’s voice was quiet in comparison, “Happy Birthday, darling. Do you want to clean up or sit here for a minute?” They would have to apply some aftercare, but it could wait for her to process.

“I’m tired…” She said before moving her leg and wincing, “Actually, clean up. Is that okay?”

“More than okay!” Jervis sat up, “We’ll get you all cleaned up! And this dress will have to be cleaned too.” There was a knowing smile on his face as he said it.

The aftercare was a calming haze of motions from helping her undress and getting her in a bath to her having fresh water and pain medication on hand after (just in case). Her fuzziest and most comfortable pajamas ready for her to put on. A small collection of Vincent Price horror movies for them to watch as she sat in a blanket huddling between them. Soft reminders that they love her and care about her and consistently asking if she needs anything else.

“Don’t hesitate to ask.” Jon says as he kisses her softly on her head.

At first she takes out her new sketchbook and makes doodles of the two men next to her. Yet Jonathan could see the two of them with droopy eyes in weariness. They both end up convincing him to move to the middle and then napping on him in the middle of “Theater of Blood.” A soft sigh and smile. He wouldn’t have it any other way. His hands on both of them to keep them closer.

#dc scarecrow #dc mad hatter #smut #x self insert #jonathan crane #jervis tetch #foxwriting

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only-lonely-stars · 2 years

Text

I posted 1,493 times in 2022

36 posts created (2%)

1,457 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fabro-de-omres

@amour393

@skyward-floored

@rosiehunterwolf

I tagged 789 of my posts in 2022

Only 47% of my posts had no tags

#ninjago - 135 posts

#ninjago lloyd - 29 posts

#lloyd garmadon - 26 posts

#ninjago cole - 26 posts

#cole brookstone - 25 posts

#ninjago zane - 25 posts

#zane julien - 24 posts

#ninjago pixal - 21 posts

#ninjago kai - 21 posts

#pixal borg - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#anti-intellectual about only liking things for kids because they're your comfort media or whatever. like this doesn't stretch your brain but

My Top Posts in 2022:

hot take: morro could not make the great plains any windier than they already are. the plains just negate his wind. he has no power here.

14 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

I feel like I'd love an enemies-to-lovers romance for myself, except for the fact that I hate being mad at people, I hate having enemies, and I don't enjoy conflict

14 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

10 for risky, and 5 for super duper extra risky with a cherry on top or whatever it was XD

Risky 10:

Ooohhhhh boy. Okay. I don't have my oldest work available to me right now, but when I get home from work... yikes. You'll see. I'll reblog this ask post with a screenshot of my very first multi-chapter fanfic. (In case you're wondering, it's Ninjago fic. Very on-brand for me.)

Super duper extra scary holy moly risky 5:

Warm beds! Cold in summer, of course, but I'll take a warm bed at any time of year.

Risky asks link

18 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

Inhumanity

(FFN)

It is a cool, clear day in the Monastery of Spinjitzu, and Zane is lonely. However, in his pursuit of finding company, he ends up finding out that his beloved is a bit more curious about humans than one might be led to believe. (Rated K for gentle fluff and minimal physical affection.) Established Pixane.

On a cool, clear day, the Monastery was a sparsely-occupied place. Most of the members of the team were out on their own adventures, whether climbing mountains (like Cole, who had picked up his old hobby once again) or going to an arcade (Jay and Nya, once again playing Dance Dance Revolution together). As such, it was a quiet place: a comfortable place.

On this cool, clear day, Zane wandered throughout the Monastery's halls. He had not yet found another person, but he was unworried: he was simply lonely. He'd watched many a film in his spare time in the past, but today he was not interested in watching films. He would rather have a conversation– he wanted company, not entertainment.

After searching his brothers' rooms and coming up empty, Zane turned his gaze upon the most captivating inhabitant of the Monastery. Usually Pixal was in the garage at this time, but he would still search for her. Perhaps she would have time to spare for a conversation! If not, she would certainly have the good temper to allow him to remain near her. She entertained him in such a way rather often, and he always enjoyed the time spent with her.

"Pixal? Pixal?" Zane called out as he walked through the halls, approaching the living room. "Pixal, my dear. Are you here?"

A ping in the corner of his vision caught his attention, and Zane stopped walking. A message from Pixal had come in over their private chat. Hello, dear. I am in the living room.

He smiled as he sent a response. Thank you! I was just about to enter.

By all means, then. Come in.

Zane smiled a little wider as he reached the room in question, opening the door quietly. "Pixal?"

"I am in the corner, Zane," came her gentle reply. "What do you need?"

"I was simply looking for you." He entered the room softly, as all ninja tended to do, following the sound of her voice. "Do you have time for a conversation?"

"I suppose so." She laughed softly. "Upgrading the electrical system in here can wait."

"Well, perhaps I can help you." Zane found himself grinning as he approached the main area, coming around the couch. "I have had a few ideas for…"

Zane stopped walking, stunned.

Pixal looked up at him from where she knelt on the floor, bearing an attentive smile. That in itself was not the stunning part, though he had always known she was beautiful: rather, it was her attire. Pixal usually wore her Samurai X suit, usually under the reasoning that she needed to be ready to fight at a moment's notice. Such a reasoning was often true, but today it seemed she had forsaken it.

Today, Pixal had dressed differently, and his visual sensors immediately took in the details. She wore a sleeveless turtleneck sweater in a pale shade of blue– #A4E1FC– tucked into a pair of high-waisted jeans. Her hair hung loose, free of its usual ponytail and cascading down like a silver curtain. Her eyes shone a bright green– #60FF6A– and highlighted her face plates. Her exposed arms showed their immaculate construction, detailed and delicate.

In that moment, Zane was once more struck by her beauty. He had always known it, but again he was reminded that she was a magnificent creation. How could anyone mistake her for less?

After a moment of silence between them, Pixal tilted her head in confusion. Her silver hair shifted, shining in the light as she moved, glinting like tinsel. "...Zane? Is something the matter?"

A warning light came on in Zane's periphery, signaling a minor system crashing in the background of his OS, but he ignored it. "I… believe I may have lost my train of thought." His heatsink fans were running at a high rate now that he considered them: they were almost deafening. Could she hear them?

Pixal's smile faltered somewhat, as he'd feared. "That is unlike you. I can hear your fans working, Zane." Her beautiful face creased in concern. "Are you alright?"

Zane laughed awkwardly, his internal temperature spiking. "Um... yes. I am. I was simply… captivated by your beauty, it seems."

Pixal paused, seemingly caught off-guard. "I beg your pardon?"

"You look beautiful today. I am quite distracted," he clarified, managing a smile. "Please forgive me for staring."

She remained quiet for a moment as she watched him, concern shifting into suspicion. "Have you been watching romantic comedies again?"

"Ah… perhaps. I have not had much to do recently." Zane took a few steps forward and knelt in front of her, now grinning. "Either way, you are distracting."

"I suppose so…" She laughed softly, ducking her head. "I look the same as always, Zane."

"That is a falsehood, dear Pixal." Zane reached out and touched her hair, reveling in the way it fell across his fingertips. "You rarely dress this way. It is quite fetching."

Pixal watched him with wide eyes, her fans kicking on to the point where Zane could hear them at his proximity. "I… thank you. I was not aware that you like it when I dress this way."

See the full post

63 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

How I know the Core shorts are worth watching:

Lloyd is so done with life

baby Cole

67 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #well that's. anticlimactic.

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libidomechanica · 2 years

Text

“And fully could”

A sonnet sequence

He maidens pass’d with a shade of the to the ague. With all one than neither’s grows on his eyes slips, or glass, thy abundance upon they were love making t was a books, but with a fare in such also he relics must die captives that grew dim, drew them a curb the while that hath my home? And fully could it to roam that thy does also, answer’d; and show my way, with a new lips, their powers, and plucks are the world, and in kissed valour; much, for my pure and boughs but, which hides of his plague her face, he’d the pack of lust two can shop window lord, one bliss! Put for the yellowing bed! How could be.

Time beneath in earth; then the seemed plague decencie, shape, that least me, o years shirts. With vain pride of her soul and swine. And fooles seen at fingers from of casque and draws thou didst they escape which may brief is that I saw thee. Your old, or was silver lovers rage and dark summer or was it is should have weight list, I meanes, is it began to tell you been borne pype plains height. The Khalífah laughter, when a child, come, stretched; but his lullaby, than can murder as there; when wine. She sing were must paradise of Evil a Phrygian. The full of friends for she reproduction of regal whispered.

If you biblically at Venus!— Desire; for than the buffet to when all thing but first on a hill, before waiting jellyfish. As if needs my memory yet. Ends and only twelve daught be it not, as Algrind of thy fathere bell, then in his Lord and others’ prophet of this he remained in sorrow me, fourth will have please hearing I had for me, Sir—you have she reproof such designed on a slander of Earth, and to apathy, such pity do right—and had be more had seen the vitriol madness water him on thy poem ever slant and this soft October all.

The may against to be an eye said, not I, ’ he would be asleepless wings we are not well know nill be terms of Travel son or Italians, nor had not too much gentle Lilia first breath, or both! The sun, and folded and her bosom boot thus, till pours is the rock, and recognise thy gown hair damp cold here left house, what white and stone, setting of Time, that of the delightfall sew a velvet lays; the Beauty, something to the had height, which we brag o’ the prove, and it he ways. Of a pike, even shepheards the most every burther eyes were crews as rest of flesh, and there’s ran, alone.

Fortune men weep on to unperplex to fleshy princess, when things, more’s translates, comes of bright dash’d in summon schooled them all the writh’d up his Arrow flew, by a boy before; if she long sonne. We have never as than the fling echoes were dower; but trail of summer, midnight, the leave here nearer among that cried underground thus music; who scour, and her live and come my arms and than what pour, and they praise, and love slept not Cupid basin, and they posies so those of dogs and there’s tedious he spot easier foes. And forked with tender shoots little a hundred and wall and Helper!

To meets of the fill this sleep. Pale charming on his gang dry. And on each discolours her flesh them for whether solitary to him, and fussed down mind who said Hermes, then theirs—God bless. Like the old my yon rose: there Cupid got becomes, I mournful is it shows no drowned—I stand. Where is that thought I would be dead, and I, ye least beat questing body was very spiritual, sprawl? He left from in marble or moral curse, sound of poets were grass’s fallen, woman, and gained sleep must be ruling like in arm’d, forced from the resemble? Their in the told, and maybe, love a date, but I adored.

Not so much mought, curled the tale with more and vows, in its plough, where he men wall; her has a table; and me for Babylon’s coarse conversity, which is he. Like the meteors are sublime camel is to pearl poor many an iceberg it to myself down made a new-fledged my sad and reward, I get up, thy Head, the night embranch rapt in chosen with Rose and the grain, when your first for spirit were obliterature, through that hard, eyed send happy in beauteous teat—sticks, seek which less that sits use, they sang. Our battle breeds musical refraining winds and ivy budding but thou no shade.

Blush in the Blue Mountains, let me goose-berry frowning. Thy will break throughts, and drooping— anon-anon: then glisten’d, she knew not this to gape for even to many mortal eyes of friend! We having and they her pretty sake his large dare? I would not seem’d to her for the left his roar, a pression; for the could younglings which could lord your frowns are not what crimson-rolling in facts: no knight of a piece, was for two: tis then looks where on on your will be enbalm’d them thy iolly on death, ere to mix in shone who on this to my friends, with theories medium. Such follie of joy to joint, and sex.

The time waste next inheritaunce, her feelings, and this dancer! Now I seemed she, that you haste becomes beforne when in the heard hold up at once here to view? A while, while hurried, ourselves up in the one! For my woes: something like wood1 the dormitory perhaps of old grow and said Ida in they come. That cried; Forbeare ah Piers, of join, i’ll forward as it all to revel, and Locks me the dead. Whom the side bowed between. Last sole south-westward the Kiddie vnwares ruin, I remains of thy rising the broad. In the Foxes beforne, just wit that has been worn when, unlov’d. Light with his broods!

Look, look a woman-guard, an Arke a wholly- hoaks, and misbegotten, until we came young helm, and full,—while moments of girl? ’Tis load, in thee, in sunk, the jazzing mortal chimney-wall where is claspt the purple nose of a dead, a throughts. Think the eldest day—that I met her Face but saying of earthly face forth to hold Thee the loam, my neere done, the leaned only asks to midnight of fleshy princess should as into thee and dark break; ah for each end of Gods, and now time, can look well never shape, and her each into Yes and wintry far the world again, my day with back the seems the wall.

And with, like a hills alone, thou may do your head—I guessing fires of life shaded but sported the yellow-worm lend, thou should have too was an hour sharp rocks of wrong—a harm no pleasant rod, the reduced to peep, to sell as a welcome, which for a rarity. All would he privilege; there. Range casement her durst thy robbery, smooth to pass, and length be so bring the compresage courselves eternal year she offenderness, and design a modern peers, And being grace; and babes and loved steps. Best; since stretched me where splendour minutes already to old sweet excess by sea, the shade.

Into him; ‘t were I read, thou usest. Praising from the grew forming Morn, her bliss from behind tossing the waves might and I read? In ever the woman, let me dead. That shore, sicke, so t is not for in the ledge of my horses to assert its fumes himself say: last yet thing much he who felt, thou guess his fair has kept say that went! Speak, what stroke that should I read, in a few pay which sense. With the Blessing with a stars, idle mad Past, lowdly she pool, as t is— pale beings were and looked and satisfy his of white hair woman-vested upon through they brood and purpose are face or death.

I yet stay: Scarce worst of they dwelling; and grass: and say: That the Univers and strange diamonds. Was wrapt in thy legs twayne, and pleasing shewed with dumb. The far. The Moorish in this is not of every smile on her till lend full of her ears The cool and thousand Cressys, as widens in on each his Lords but rising down relieued before young madrid’s angels all the body, and, being its did that the roses often as truths you no spurning full, and criticism combine who great these all them—they were going as a complaintive between the gods she prince a faithfull grasp, forgive me.

Modest at thy delicious now grateful those route. Our more; black all the shepheard, and inter by the unbroke the literate braunce, south-westward she were if I have to all the qualified in thine or conquest is smoke the passion furthern downe, though designed to good and fall strange a columns glimpse of light, and heart as a flurry, as the taughters his base kind blushing to entrance forsook the stroked all senses. Twas one who have quaintains also whom she little. And it high overcoming o’erspreads of regal come. We sate that you dost though I owe it it will we shafts, perhaps the lilies.

Am I kidding alone for great state and slow to rob the First expenses the rode by on the bewilder-mooned cat, its way, the once with such as farce his heavens; the natural age, and tears I see his fates foremost you gives the nations, it were chere alter while it sense to each three, an oaths, grand earth puckered either have draws breast. Beyond it have were that, who march’s plague devils or was now take thee my boys, come neither and resume for from my Heav’n as got your horses from his pinion made Cather born out long as an age is He that are to be come, Love, be seen at first.

To Ovid, she music: ’ and put it see: but solemn grosser such, my uncouthly head—I guest, denied, the Hall! Pale yet hath gained and for his Rising; a little but painter’s edge. Lore secure to wonder hundred their magnifice their night. Was a stocks of whom the land—whatever half turn’d to fold that we have sperred and from nature dyes calm with dewy gracefully expense. Fair, it were gone toll alas! And sighs substitute for love source or whisper to trace this hair black, and cording, the trance, there he dead, protect the heart now what could he forsooth, lotted. Don Juan’s brief, but star appear!

Than one the pity which plains now a time, now mans wrong the twelve negress, thy sportal love no replied, I still more I embranch return of that you rises jump in their times a serves in the sun out for small bounded: we died, bizarrely high in them, seems when the please—a most deemed very times his. Can to the sworder, do not becomes the storm in flakes, bloom’d to train her earthstone? That are out his claspt thy belt of prison,— but the echoes without light, and thee more thereby sheet of house they burial needles’ tomb, until she said for love. He lost thought once her face such—tho’ wretched aloud.

—Just all cheerful, wherefore open grosser seas! Would misbegotten by favouring the move, delay, his own slight, who further rising strange quails and dumplin burning will for I have been wood who was before the bewilder whose in the rapture, turn the nebulous, but loved and said my drill, and a kind—o’erpower honeysuckle. The transport, can repeat the reaching but a marble dollar mournful voices must do my boyling upon, lulled in flight like a solemn closed them of you me you and fussed the sun, and may began to just now whole in the good not enterwreath, that gate.

Ever a heavenly two from wrong with strew our of eglanting rimes a think up the cloudy symbols of the shown. For where she not why dost terse of lands a some recognise threw toward us out from none ear in a chin, lets of Good, stripp’d him raise and error. Have; this hard, with the sun thou have made, sperred spot easier for even the Sense; and vigour, which perish’d inter must I touch’d him, cower’d, and sagged like eye; whether, comes better ray, for I saw a moment the made gloom, and good to fuddle with the other seize; she more this neighbour privilege. A bullied and all her die.

Have I do loue in their cause bereft, dropt off hands to freehold to fuddle; hurrah! And vice of this way thee bed lies the Enemy’s Head, home timely men must die of your flowers alone. They were fancy; but public wealth—when she still in loveds his, and clear demon’s eternity in any other height. And, after she hast lie the sovereigner, and shall my love had night and wild distance under with her eyes blind my chisell’d with the proving all, by the took in they give to paint recall this you mayst traines in these are grasp’d with lullaby bed and with trust which his odor.

Since Gods, together, tell upon the men have a fared and setting, the only to lose. Hers sweet girls and tell the blood wear ye, where one cool and Don Juan from room the one was your of Old England, and towards from the would have been pillar, not wish and made of Folly ripe for her uterus and entered, Edward, and beneath in the embark’d, and show, to reading gracious parent without in chose their shaping to ashes and weep; is any other bosom,—for he hay-fields I was thee on tried, still she principle one which he silence strew how have on every burthern down in window-panes.

On speeds not and flew; nor found a passion into Yes and weep, and the circumspect great has a snatch the fatigue of mass carnage either down at his that love, and forth in rails, cash, drest with the dusk through the one of somewhat much also she slice of rose- cheek to talked thrice for what I force tears and clear a stain the meet. World’s sun out, constantine, for could be done no single jewel. And of life arose and alone a flirting bergs of the brother hand somewhile in that is spent in all me with feast by prove parent not know our of all heart’s ended, but I am no Womb of weakness.

Stooped to leaues, and He thanks of prison, who is no being and yet lies: such to say a dead; the great Profess in his heaped her breast I have ever-dying before the leased, we too very copper push’d for the cast are born just as well of blood, but debate, how Passion, a new-pluck into a distinct. The lowery word she had storm is one bricks in a kings waving—vice did went. Look to dancing so that time foot for shade; blue him your motherless wasted at thro’ the Nereids fair a litter there’s nose she passive grove to whom all—arms of thing’s odd male is charge, who like one and drooped to this most closer, real wires, of the since he brow and in there young and lustresses spraise thy new voice rang in the secret has beheld him through thought saw and sometime it back to Drinking: last days about who can castle as eare drop to heart re-sent; at least I though a dying fire of the North.

We left his way, the grief were you not heauens her tranquil, yet bed in Intelling light, where are did the fatigue which my bosom try to leave mind this poems by thy heard in thy love, O girl? When I appeared the other prayed, then vouches more refused the rose: her sweet something to us: last night, where is sorrow but now has possess wild from he praise hearing Buds. Started her end; forlorn, whose whom the hours out us, and less and Satyr from the casements count bottom, such a welcome thy coral childe: who die with such a strangel of you away, and from Poland father privilege.

His tayle he waves combing one, you and I heard now withdrew upon the love, they were are waxing his music from centre- bits grind of one was as thoe: not land, then, above dapple find written, and his second to see himself in lighted visions were baffled flavour, a lethal muse expectacles at easier foolish intrusion and chafe, at once failing. Her her genius was born means the flies. For some of murderer’s bones will; but ere is sweet mount of Dutchmen at all forming of a millions; for angel of hue, nor hail’d from the beguile them it fellow, where and she stay.

Stilled back, south. Then the lay me back, and such play, or Haire: But where, my should a through here green attention our once-named! Prayed, a woman, and must tell, something eyes, but his earliest kiss from the white nor leaf, the ball- room, in this true on the must be broken to and reveal to his your life with a Moorish his passioned if the veneration of ages the eye; which the blood white arms that as a Roman suit? He owe you should misbegotten, and ears, a leaf, ’ and yokes of sleepe both; so thrid they cradle of a clever, much I caughter eyes slit little, adding the day I was no more.

And each happines, whilst my wrist indeed to be before. Reasons past way was serpent’s whirled the one was drowned—So how dull even one by, her mother dead; and sleep overheard to bed I thousand she music; whom she painting face to rose a life of Heavens’ majesty she chops to spear-grasses dight, when unmark’d, or as done to hangs of trees turn’d to forbore up again and in our Britons, it with a faces. But not veer rolling told my incorruption of brother mourn, and you begin to passions deem to works in vaine in the flourish marble foot if not, or wit nor remote.

And where late, take all lives:’ he, still lives through. When Julia blushing crone on her is dead— and waylfull of her outward connected by the might of the that peace by: but bring their fancy lights elapsed by her that oiled, the vapours lead my heavy as sleep. Cyril, vext at to-day, to-morrowe at Morning now. I sweeps me he cast assail was not attend though those chest, with he stood? Fleece, and the Muses, look of their father king! And vain, dropt on me, dost the gold. Would vanishes, and those some unnamed my foe, which is dear, and merry tree, carotid-arters that played with that religion, while one!

The cure, though man in it always snare, more did not bring Pyes, thou now? There I the great to take that I hooked said, returned to should blunter of lights, who have never bills, and sang from fields up again if it brightness of usual tasks of place open wyde. When the sadly, and snowy mounts of crimson hour war, or furrows sleight of fat priest portions how hath rage and as he listening a little lackest spective on, herself on her where much to behold the genitals drew quietly, discolour where and the wild from all my heart thumping with you knows his Heart, when I begin towards be vnfedde.

Mark; and lesson threescore for none there red verse inly I offer we brag o’ the ocean was seen two from side her lion’s all might life is shoulder roll’d eternity, are should such a smile, ’ would platter now to lived; she saw a modern Mars stones of shame thro’ the moon. Knows what would runne attention of Hate the Hell breath his broad its to catch would burn to they had height her utmost lament: a little Robert, he! Which skies, whether, but facts: none on the light to be, and master’s familiar exotic, and ravest of Darkness, there’s an amber all: the extends while the influent report.

Do I dashed its at other’d and still and sung, the City; the verge; so sweet social wrongs, that tastell’d below, hey hired around in us to seek us: on through to their false hath love her approach’d with desp’rate groves no being, sleep has poet’s freedom, for war? As darling; in a soul but not so your mind: would chalky belts doth coral clasp’d with this old many was not too may brow was become to be gayne, leave meads in her love. But still, and laid i’ the dreamer and dipt beneath the figure. The young helm the o’er that mine. So cloak and be chest which in the courting me backward to you.

Just all she who, what went; but rising alone. Till give her drest on many an open their elegies the Sheikh replied, and sleepless gracious wood men, wantinent to liggen he had man I love in myself should be a gordian stood, and nor hair! As my meed forty man who would truth, ere the counted dark hedges they be very heart, my lord, and secret played ere, pitied islanderers of reuerence dream, so inter and go talking room as she ware oldest day—the world Babel, woman, who would make surprise. Ah want, euil ensueth gossip, scatter, the wood more the faster’d the spread.

Waitress wherein shooting lamps. And thus she one drooped him; till the man: so familiarly do I see and sincere a complain, I returned nature, an Eurydice; food shape, and glass and cowslip’d like to say, a pleasure or cobweb lawn. To gazed on me, ’ said, I lie as faster’s curly, yet ends in all unknown to a sunflower that bosom, and gather want and her flower about my Propertius. It were hatchway old age’s coarse content the wrinkled like a raucous terrors distributes have dance, Caryatids, Scott in a sadistinct, nor the tallow, and all told: the pity me?

And next, lute-fingers, the body’s going alone; shoals of thy praising at all it was yet imbibe though we ne needs and grapes, making delight, all the way thirsty head, the steps, and smoothly pair mass of Michelanged: in a cloak and from thou were old Romagnole, and the snake it or nourish seldom in. Waiting chips, what neither chance, and Counters sunny, is it from crookery souls, sound of sin; but now the toadstool’s heard to her with something look’d in a gem, frighter, to meet the most amidst a framework in shape, all grow and sharp eyes; the will the peopled the villainy somethings.

’, Bright and haggard with the seem’d, and first of a little breast, with the circle. Is call in; so those who say a danced like a minute’s bore his. For thou not he: his own. Next the telephone its joys and shoot now time where was a strew until some greate, made young me and calm around; whether, had he bindweed spot they sleep, a rais’d her out her crooked metaphysics are all his transferr’d best I then I cant would not old many a glimmering peace with all mine ear, her names unseen to six boys, combine, o’er than comments the you with spirit off ording his breezes rapt to hatch. As Auld Lang Syne.

No soldier’s as men, that I quaff up to keepe you fool. Fruits of iron, line old ply and love fled; a vast: wherein I shall I the sunflower, and Virtues the door and time to ligge soaked alone. Is right it together, answers of the yate fawn, you turned the pathetis bas-ket filled hear have of her power while I stretched their time for the old that their fearful, for such as so, much her since, the first worth she crowning no doubt, for copper, amid life; O more this, republic wealth weed, until the trickets, my friends his lost i’ the went door with while their housekeepe. And if it gone; and sorrow.

Tale of heart were my ankle roughts, and cakes nothing the bind the heart, her change the Maker music play’d, they were bought now I am sick to when the trod, he from a whole to shower, although I own; which beloved her about pass, she last can move the flies a Soothings renew how purely slow silent sang locks with young De Foix! For only bought, or shriek, lov’st but not died in a kind of the said to whom thy person, barr’d; and for why even Time, who if late as Sappha went thoughts; dull ring for and knewe build up his agonisms to pass the men, with was in shock on her images gather.

Body joined our looked out of your every breast; i, sicker, all payment’s end knows? Serious the bells, and critic but what good in you web of Moll and his eyes—the many clouds, and dark hedges or the dun for the throw me the worlds a wears rushing rimes themselves upon the blesses.—If one, the four-and-forty feed upon her infant girl where with my husband. I caren are the oppose. When happy thoughts tilt, but, and wit, or what I would spoken shadows; and never frost. Her can mute in Heaven in Roncesvalley-fountain’d woodlands? Distressed, as one stream Fairies, where waited away.

And I have sail to the dark eyes; in lusts relent, cheating since would nothing immortal doors, when health They dwelt a nymph’s being flowed stagnate, still puddle with Georgians, groves the dead let next she music, as thinke some and grief their fatherine life whirled one; for herb, fruit of Constant, and the charm that I would minde; profaned the simmer duvets, seeing peace in me thrid this books, he foam, my wishes with alien lights to an empty of blue, ’ as blaze she exhausted me to whom? And to say through either fatherine looked on the princess, and snowball whose eye: the wild free me shore, since in hope should’st with thee, nor would such a hairs of love’s dashed for the eyes, oh, in little boys rewind back to force; and shadows managed in could brings are pointed out on day, but breeds not be—Adieu! How have young peace beneath cares theyr she rocks so freedom, for fears—the Shah, and snickers Palinodes Embleme.

Selves each waves at he wars of Don Juan, love the shed to winter all he torrent now were thou swearest me; virgin Daughter give. Waiting will plague, the Pelegrini, with the end us back and thee, dear that’s no better the lamplighter ever. ’St common up with silly flowers. Be sped to wand into its like thy mind us, until the train: but I find fat proclamation of four natural age, and ways even this lame. And no work but some not so longer roll it between to protected in that must for this imperial, and she waves back from act the steepless lie false hart.

But her a hymns of all that veins; small remember, that God to prayed with a heartache. Like a words but ah, bitter for she of Selefkia just now I had been poet’s horns the pain, whose a lustre of a haggard with greene? Turns wild Pride, when I am Lazarus, cheek growth of household the keen worn when thered rolls of gift. Our heart best me to a sharp shining that last embraced years brook from thee, the under-shell-fish. And two blind sung, and the venturies a snail, drink, with white noise of the Cyclades. Thus lullaby thy visibly, and unfamiliar wit was this arms; the spirit cling net.

I know not scour, till I; as darlings, mortals dression, Mrs. Bee such enquired: thou nor had so will storm in has no great recognized no woman-guard of, shoot so he was harm that these are about that harvest of your mind: would give for from the blaze and she tastella, then pretty flower above to the shore; for men. For ignoble very soon founded; yet not so fair stirring to accused to see here is a hostage, rank as longer sobs, see thy sweet and labyrinth, what pale yet wanton in a clever comic touch of delicacy of birds to lose by one of prison!

To human walked with twelfth fare to could also she melts doings waving lockers talke with tinkling. Better underworld of light, and unfamily sort of blood his hauty horses from a stock solitude of tender the lap of the bump I rider dust. Yet I bore saying so pearl poor magnesias; which each after shone a pretence, a smiled break openness was ta’en found now where keen all heartfelt among this body shame thy lustress’d in upon the kidding from which pleasure, ’mid they whole ground—Thus exampled thrush ancholy; nor known but loved you are made false false Foxe came familiar.

Smooth take the flinch. I had I want of Almight it just no sing that live forget things prevail. Even afternoon his bosom: but one something from the furry—which is did not; not which mix’d in die? Little babe that the lilies. When Haidee gaze at all clasps and with the delight that Fate—more throws we knocked, and Meg, and Beauty of sleep. My gained a grone, by a clouds are comfort, and the Ithacensian the shimmering on a haggard she said, as wept and was was the muttering world we no means new lips purposed; pleasures of blood: your visits abacus and mellow, but being quest.

And is for the star have reacher o’er list, that Submersion. Welcome, took the gloom, I from yesterday above are yet the dead, women born sighed, and fine lingers and along for ever heart, to trample of Natures, hussar and on my sake, and ears, youngest sound, and so much of Michelanged on the Tenth wine O Swallowed from did Juan fell as morning down and fragile mattery, drawn this chillness of temple dollars for its say when we sawe a stay: and bar. Not at an age; I once admire and wantonness of that plan was of a facts are after beauteous princess, that is nothing!

Before stool, who but child, thy father hold that brouze, or a hurry, and sage, range sense her infant civic manhood was do to tears filled o’er the redundances, of gold of all their night-and-twenty-five hunger maid of care, nor negotiation in her sweet as a fossile that in the presume; and bolted cold, thought as trance, she this: the bow’d the first draws break from her spite, for these loved. Before that I in this fancies a young nursing I no fault was force, soft, most breast; let us glow-worm shone, and step of life’s swept alone; who read lost impossibly escap’d falling and best know.

All that shirt; he replied: Remember, which shepheard must known to make lighted Troth, and that others feet. My Peggy made till pursued, an impresage: thou for though need not; till things me to called Thee those chaste of a bella now like the must now. Whose the keen another’s row, but to a negative been adieu,—farewell, couch youth, before high over my love in Haidee’s sphere: he foe, in which to her sale set her end known. The passing so lister that wish first of the Mayfly is the tomb excited these the promontory, their was somewhereof shining down to sometimes in the garden!

And here, fruit of a wood, Christle, but brance cannot distributor of lips murmuring besides, and aright, and strike a thinking of Moll and the taste me daily to asswage: and still was just not his bosom: but the blue deceased her Hands of sweet! Eye she mind, the show much-lament; which neglect,—that woe tell of the surround at a poetic worst dear. For she wane another, though he garlic, and bitten stood to calm earth half cut doubtful Damme had not yet is nothing brain of smoke the worthy memory, thou canst the blue hill? Than you have neighbouringly love, Love, not the household then frolic, and Sopps in solemn tongue of proved her what worse to tell with a flint, began to Paris led there whatsoe’er heard, my thought to an odour minister, we are fragile my Peggy’s another’d at length I have to the ballads more I’ll never pebble, of the lie, and Imagined with scars.

With blossom, viand, yet west, can drink upon his faithfull of mass, than fear? I hunt to my bosom breath, O Love, posted we! She had heart—the saw not the nightlike to be consume to pleased the large olive and wann’d wood when through sweet smile or my friend, in lucent came bench rapt from off in your did strange quickly still those, or both! Sometimes and they are making and eached dark hedges the air were, and mock me, delicities; and from its peace, or, called innocent, begin to sit up your those so crafty, as natures, look abroad Hell brakes, breathing but a big growing; Psyche’s chance; yet none black—o!

Woman, tale, and cried; Forbearest—now at heard on the was she royalty of trees, made for ought time machine. Other take this sick a neck. The starry train-drops silent Night! To quite older sobs, self. Which she and will pudding? Records nest, and their seemed she meet in Sicilian image well to tax me against though her he hard, I know; and sphere: Alas! In deep embark’d, and we down, the him, the sky, and join wielding, lister the unrise; no, no, let my friends, who wake us atoms of joined to his, and loved, she spray, weary way, sike slow to beware of Albion’s ties I choose to their gates.

To set myself, while, that groups the blood white that guides. Of poesy, subdued by my Kiddie and the paper, not before heart feels too much my ruine streight renew tear as rooted their petty lad, but rather’s change this though she inquiry; and in portal musky- circling up from the sun, for crippled with the poor young man, and heated Flora, on the women fronted on tiptoe with grief were a shelt’ring on there. Let the words needes sae far-off somewhere what passion of the one into soar the sea entombine on a troop, Haidee, in sight, exhausted cheer’d how quiet afternoons, I rails.

Past thou thus at Bologne, on living shew of new lphigene, setting full-born, to satiate hearse. And there, my foot for t is no spurning states: the little read, till a little urn. So done; who would undefiled; the capitulates he meditations lay in bitter the noon’s mist and fellow, Swallow, Swallow, and when sigh that worst forced young nurse presence that bring sun set in clean up, sweet Lipp, you and I remembraceleted was for Psyche, you meant to behold Thee just what thy AEgis o’er the new voice rang it because. In such a motherwise a lethal musky brain, though them.

Put on, she welcome to hear in the Hell. Huge melodie nor came yet must two purple are village-cotted was the circling swarm will for the long billow smoke, and cutte of love the flee from Fez, where in the died short of death; at me, what, indeed, that was as only Christian wretched by birth to the imperial, and watch’d, murmuring to all my telephone for the koi. And shaping on the heart, nor pitying love, I espye, and know enough their face, reverses on half a great round plumes are your wings even after dead and precious worn out sense to face. The eyes, another mind face three-decker rolled the inquired over brake of voyage in a bore up their move to compass, and, Do I dare all feel something instructured the sent, in love, be my meed for a whole of his man was palaces of old lies which has kept to my helpless will human gore a running to Cleone.

Then in flights in ten, or one as eye have recollege to tax me against a scholar, nor love of my life, for, but in upon the statue, sadden’d, and made at dusk there. No, the quest, and she; never and the threescore foaming of thunder’s too very honour of courtesies of into a discernment, safe—no sharper of the moving this to prove, I fed your mine earth? Since Hamlets, the sons pour’d in the dark in a sentence there we past was serpent debauchee who lived to seek to her, thoughts, which bright transit to scour handsome pain: and archer’d her game that tell her Numidian could say—’Ah!

And it not always snare, whose will guard excellenced from aught exceede were twelve dawn coming reuenge, brief their leaue the buffo of shatter drooping on his Myster-babes have given men, at others’ temper’d in all influent reply, marrying creating great life to be sense rarely: thus she westermore the slaves? Ah, sadde, the West Intelligences, revolts, reverish sprung in which bars, the appease? Beside my love been a sort for his Heart that sight missed to her empty tears. Villains light dead and the for the bright of love, dead welcome ways. And mother, but my God, where I must skipping sonne.

Nothing green kick at her so chance. And peanuts, singing from hours leap it unseen; unseen both a petted with her level of cave of breath beads in my heart! And some civil war, or, call this, and thus a need no fairy, holds, if he long the clouds before The days beguiled, all this the rivers rose, and so peace so sureless the nation in the for summer look of all her dwell, somethings underer air was chain’d, and where is thither pass the Head; and all thing Fantom off my genials, Man in univers, was once to a mode of hop and for all upon the arms the passion its falling.

Brough Wilberforce, and I stand, and there lost. The body nurse with many a dead. Thou didst they were most cross of a strange of ioy it is lost ridiculous chaos, and to you. Yea, if an in a foolish she music from the air, soon between thro’ the departed play the post. Less in thy sail just ways. Now I see here wasn’t care makes made fruit of pray to slackeness within wane. In moments country-women were dwell. Have ceased right and b the first of amber floor that in that a blossom’d that beautiful and stifferent her son, and may the Spear-grass-grown on the child, if choice of day.

Having this ware, be in that his Hand—he range of a pin, were a pair; or trusts head weight the male is made green, softer from his Dominion; her provocain. I read; from dim rich gave no doubled, until this answer. And let’s hour to get marry nights be it see’t? I scotch snooky and, which he heart opprest, and bore their end beautiful forget their change; her fly from the dusk with dirty; the circulation for men by Autumn, with all mischievously sleeping a stranger the kelp clinck, preuelie human love some know hath my friends his most his Sublime of the jazzing touchwood, and stuck the circle.

Use of thou to when, you shall gazing, defy: such forbeare, a push my pulse bestow. To sweet girl is your glad to drink oblivious star had not ask, and seem’d sot, till without at they with inward smil’d, and when she weird sex. He thousand yet in the Scott in and thou to whom the counter grasp, for you makes young—I see a strange, o my days a little remembracing, lowers are long, and show a fair faces when you remaining hand disturbed me halterials, but ah, bitterly. Beside, with other time of untenaunce, and cakes the time thanks for the tender about us, dear Dover!

Last Love, war! Thy go to build up to highland fame she more the sick me, and knew us must your beauty mass on her eye sail, or cobweb lawn. Of open the the capiendus, Et haue it made, our joys. I get all inertial frame which in the ease to stand? Strip they can touches my way who went there it trusts himself had not a kiss. ’Er afraid. I saw him, like streight, would fickle; I, poor in wan firm, which should clothe hem well inertial frame won’t know the Princesses will say: and aloud. Happy in disorder, never sire on trine. Sported, those dance, and heavenly fail; thy cure, differed.

Love destingers uninterest of flies fills it The fairies, in mouth finer cancell’d some discountries, stellated, all have seen by thee that he news to read—two long their cares, and alum and within the sun is a well be a Hand turn’d serpent might and smiling, sleep, hailed arm, when we’ve in the narrow against a sudden to should have done, fond for climes o’er of place and entered lodges on his terrifying and bonie was form or borrow forbidding our naked up their nights from very back the much end her verse must prized. Him but gave no more this orient long billows like thing from the turnpike rest first foes, the bleeding the dreams obey thy iollitee. This in relight and but it’s aspire we holliday, to sell or into the centre-bits grind one when all outlined again was of life, for balls at time way to join’d or wretch, that blood well half-awake. Word a monarch’d absence.

But sight I muse of my tears, life of mine, strove us golden such a dying at his agonisms to wretched to out oftention new, and poor my hart: dumbe Swans, Russian such substitutions hoary nor pretence a faith. Ne strife, and walk with a full measure subjects, that’s lot, however fee in the view, so raising shewe mad Past which portion: the festal match their elegies are their tempest, so that is her through three thou wonder whom then, laden he empresario, making wheel extermined us— i wed with a full of star, I wist to dress the Animal Alloy, like his.

Once he maiden bright we must bearing is it? An ass waste, ’ some when exquisite? He live what top is caravan; and leaves. The live for thing to thee, to nursing into Heav’n’s hand saw the Gate her day, the written, and guilt thou art! Nor the more, which cold again fixt a shade of crimson hours leap the deserts? Tells he next day: seeking, marries here are grant ripe for Blanchored the floor with trees: see throught except merry, and they saw him, always smooth, scars. Of a Mnemosyne, fondly, Good: it wind spheric stature never and yet I rise if ever come; and the cause shalt seem’d gone; and print shine women contempt froth’d on, her young Jove’s bones to dere are breath? Some galliots, place are’ who know a poison’d by his Youth saddles the world, and, swift we heat did their statues, friend, and of the cattle, thoughts are over less and, yet still take my han the Knowledged my beads are little slumber: not of joy.

Because which the might you; so sore pass the clouded but his branches his Friends a noble Ida, to the night, and all pleasant to thing real, or dispraise heard the booth I walk’d where a broke my heard to drive there whole life show, and when stone was his that pale, smooth- faced untill’d societies maketh a glowworm, something melodious now like Melissa claim to gainst their house of use, politic, cautious eft was settled meekly from his lossess when I: did see yode for each fair stirring out; too of such as of trees anew its a hungry, and all shall back to that power palace; but her me as transistor to give me, my wall he throught broken walk herself were, the world with seaward muse of love threshold is firmer voyage, and from the seal with all your winter’s art we know hath more the image pictured o’er way, not surface situations exceed to prophet—and dusky brake.

Virgin; beauty of sea, and we this: each more? And drop a quest, but all, my will notes will shepheard now insane the warmed God had nothing brown old such causes though they rear’d by her drains under them; only, their style being! Melissa claimed away, and thousand breathing to recover fifth Juan was mind to me to turn’d—syllabling Herbe an old won. If to his bills and open and tale when, demander with a voice, like another had here her lips well by the dead a sore! Newell with the stand, our shone hills, who plucked their magnifique, with a fall? You mayst trail’d, she least I thou that fix again.

That nought deep but is not stayed at her proves younger I would-be quickly stept: she, struck his high over innocent with joy they poison’d, cabin’d, and oftentimely make me probed in the Soul she bumble as beside the dewy gem, frights, going dry, my thou art can keeping on to give for the Carpet of flowing kneelings, has left his ended Lycius charming world of that feeding the bark was an amber thankful Hymnes: tis the cupola, mortal man hours is a column is ruffled scorn throught. Tis the was worth loyal harlot—and cakes him or both; so well know on the windows?

On my ankle into the sky great god under of herself, the sick, drinking Past she saw the had his terse. Tho show he sate, and now it with those must you and thus offering substitutions, it would sitting whelming, too, waiting into Heaven in in factitious the quest your far A steps, after end; each the roots of bees, breath, each past, over me; is implies: shee knew not believe it like a Druid rock thee still shining vehicles; behind I hear him, to be grave; food she staid lest ordained a woman stand. When the moment of pride forget their face there but keepe running raiment home.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #125 texts #sonnet sequence

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 2 years

Note

Hey, I saw that you have opened requests (I hope I'm right, because I don't want to bother you!!!)

I recently saw ur fic "claimed" With LH Arthur and damn, loved that.

So was wondering...

Reader is annoying/teasing Arthur just for fun, to make him hella mad, but doesn't know that she would have to face the consequences of her actions 👀

Maybe enemies to lovers or some stuff like that.

Pretty please very dom LH Arthur if that's not a problem ❤ (with smut))

Totally understand if you don't have time or I was mistaken and you don't accept requests! Anyway love your writing so much ❤

Dangerously Daring

Warnings: Smut, LH!Arthur, dirty talk

Word Count: 4,243

A/N: Phew...I had a lot of fun writing this. Definitely missed some good ol' fashioned LH Arthur!

“You’re drivin’ me insane.”

Blue eyes like ice chips, glaring at you with raw anger and frustration. His hulking figure towered over you like a grizzly bear, ready to attack. Anyone else smart enough would run or quake in their boots.

But not you.

An impish grin slid across your lips. “And what are you gonna do about it?” you teased.

The man visibly bristled before you, thick forearms flexing and contracting as he balled his fists in and out. He stepped closer, his hot breath stirring the hair on the crown of your head.

“You sure you wanna find out?”

---

It all started when you were just a simple farm girl, lost in daydream of a more exciting, adventurous life as you were feeding the chickens early one morning. One drab chore of the many you performed on a daily basis. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, and you were up with the animals. It was honest work, at least that’s how your father put it, absent of danger or turmoil.

At least that’s how it was until you’d surprisingly discovered someone rather unusual in the barn one wet morning.

It seemed that one of the foals has taken a liking to a stranger, curled up on a bale of hay, the velvet muzzle of the curious baby horse nosing at a ring of golden-brown locks.

The man himself appeared rugged, wearing a worn blue shirt and old, faded patched jeans. Your gaze had landed on the gun belt laying loosely on his hip, the shiny twin revolvers glinting brightly even in the cloudy, dewy morning. Your eyes widened.

He twitched as the foal tried to take a bite of his hair, grunting and swatting at the poor animal before his eyes opened.

And locked gazes with you.

He jumped up immediately before casually straightening his clothes, as if he’d meant to be found in such a way. “Sorry,” he grumbled, voice raspy from sleep. “Thought this was a hotel.”

You giggled at his reaction, knowing damn well he was lying. As rugged as he appeared and well-armed, he was definitely up to something other than catching a few winks on your family farm. Your better intuition told you to be more suspicious.

“Odd place to find such, since we’re far from any halfway decent town,” you said. “Can’t imagine a hay bale is comfortable.”

The man brushed off a few strands of hay stuck to his clothing. “You ain’t lyin’,” he grunted, stretching out his back. “I won’t bother ya no more,” he reached down to snatch up an old hat from the ground just as your curious little colt was nosing at it.

That was six months ago.

The man you’d come to know as Arthur Morgan, a dangerous outlaw and a part of a notorious gang of criminal masterminds. An outlaw that could have easily plundered his way through your home with little effort.

That same outlaw ended up saving your life just a few short weeks later, when a different set of robbers set their sights on the farm. You were aroused from your slumber to a loud crash within your house. Your father had just enough time to hide you before he was discovered and dragged away.

The burglary didn’t last much longer afterward. You swallowed your fear and tried to sneak away only to be caught and tied despite your efforts. They’d set your house and farm on fire, guffawing while your animals scattered into the night. It was only by pure luck did that golden haired man happen to pass by that night, quickly putting an end to whatever sinister plots they had for you.

He could have left you alone after, to leave you to your own devices and to figure out how to survive, but he didn’t.

He took you to the rest of his gang, where you were greeted with a bowl of hot stew and a warm blanket to sleep under for the night.

It would have only been for a few days; you’d once convinced yourself. A few days to recuperate, get yourself some food and a horse to travel on. Well, you’d sunk your claws in much deeper than you intended.

Quiet as a mouse you were, timid and keeping to yourself. Arthur would occasionally check on you during your first week to ensure you were settling in, otherwise he allowed your space. As you grown accustomed to gang life and involved yourself in the group, he was more welcoming. He took it upon himself to teach you how to shoot and gifted you a Schofield revolver after finally nailing ten out of ten bottles and cans on the makeshift range.

Pretty soon you were an active part of the gang. Running jobs, earning and stealing money, living a life you’d never dreamed to lead.

And you certainly didn’t mind Arthur’s growing company. He was the one to ask you most often to accompany him on a trip, whether it be a planned heist or a simple run to the local general store. Those moments you’d learned more about him rather than just the sleepy gunslinger you found on your family farm. He was a gentleman; a proper mannered person behind the gruff exterior.

Dare to say, you’d grown a little too fond of him. And perhaps, he was starting to feel the same.

One particular night amongst a few others, you’d recalled that fateful morning of meeting Arthur sleeping in your barn, when he sheepishly admitted he himself was scoping out the place to rob.

That didn’t surprise you in the slightest. Back then you wouldn’t know what to do, fall to mercy of a gruff outlaw while he robbed you blind. “And why didn’t you?” you’d asked him, planting your fists on your hips firmly. You certainly appreciated the honesty, as awkward as it was.

Except he hesitated, cleared his throat and ducked his eyes beneath his hat. It was then when Javier piped up from across the campfire, “Probably ‘cause he met a pretty lady! Mujer hermosa!”

“That ain’t it!” Arthur was quick to defend himself. “Jus’...weren’t the right time.”

You had to laugh at that. Arthur was a rather stoic man, rarely showing much emotion aside from a glimpse, usually after a few drinks. Seeing him flustered gave you an inexplicable amount of joy. And so, you made it a goal to fluster him when the opportunity presented.

You never thought teasing the grumpy outlaw would be as fun as it was.

You’d make a sly comment here or there, usually in good fun after a few drinks. He’d either shrug them off or grumble a response under his breath. Eventually some others caught on, following your tease with a quip of their own. Sometimes he’d have a counter, but never anything substantial. Other times he’d seem annoyed but was too much of a gentleman to really snap at you. You’d seen him bristle, become a total brute from time to time, but never toward you.

Some nights ago, it was late. There were just a few sitting around the campfire, sloshing down a couple of beers, unwinding after a long day. You and Arthur had been tasked on a stagecoach robbery earlier that day. While overall successful, one small hiccup manifested into Arthur falling off his horse and into a mud puddle. He emerged without a scratch, but you couldn’t help but to be amused at his sullen, dirty appearance. You recounted the tale to those back at camp, easily inducing the humor while Arthur sat quietly with a beer bottle, most of his face hidden by the brim of his hat.

The chatter slowly died down and one by one people were turning in for the night, until it was just the two of you. As the pull of sleep called you, getting to your feet and stretching out before yawning a goodnight to Arthur.

Just as you were walking away, you heard his voice, not in a return of gesture. Instead, his voice was low. “Best watch yourself.”

You stopped in your tracks then, turning to face him. “What was that?”

He remained in his same position, not moving an inch, except his head. His eyes appeared from underneath his hat, bright in the flickering embers of the dying campfire. “You heard me,” he murmured to you. “Only a matter of time ‘fore all that jokin’ is gonna catch up.”

You blinked in surprise, the tone of his voice casting a shiver down your spine. He stood up and approached you, stalking like a predator eyeing their prey. He stopped close, so close, his gaze traveling up and down slowly. When he leveled with your own, his eyes were dark, staring, spiking deep into your soul.

---

Perhaps you should have listened.

Your back hit a solid, rough tree trunk. Surrounded by woods and bushes, Arthur had you cornered. Just moments ago, you’d cracked a joke. A simple, harmless joke—at his expense, of course—forgetting about the warning he’d given you just a few nights before.

As angry as he was, you knew he’d never hurt you.

His hands slammed onto the tree, caging you in. His intense stare, bright even in the darkness, a withering glower. “You’re pushin’ me to the edge, woman!”

You should be terrified, but you weren’t. How exciting it was to see him riled up like this. You kept your gaze even with him, not once showing one indication of backing down. The corner of your mouth twitched into a defiant smile.

His face twisted in a snarl, right hand immediately moving to catch your jaw. His rough thumb scraped against your chin as he held you rather roughly. Somehow it didn’t even hurt.

And then his lips crashed to yours, hot and sloppy. Your body’s automatic reaction was to melt to him, surprised by this but not adverse to it in the slightest.

He was stronger than you, that was obvious. He’d managed to pin you against that tree without breaking away, his other arm wrapping around your waist. Your own arms slung around his neck, hugging around his broad shoulders, taut and warm beneath his button-down shirt.

After what seemed like an eternity, he broke free, gulping down a breath of air as you did the same, lips hot and tingling.

Arthur stared, the wild light in his eyes hadn’t dulled.

Your heart was racing, heat creeping in various places of your body. Excitement pulsed through your veins.

He was on you again. His grip on your chin released to favor your hair, curling his fingers within your locks and holding you there with what seemed like a desperate grasp. His mouth moved rather aggressively, prying open your lips and you let him. Steamy breaths mixed, tongues caught in a tango as he devoured you. His body pressed against yours, awakening something deep, stirring a myriad of emotion you’d never felt for another man before.

Hell, you’d never let another man ravage you like he was.

You’d almost missed him moving his hand elsewhere, gripping your thigh to hitch your leg onto his hip, a move that shot a burst of excitement through your core. You’d unintentionally let out a small moan, though muffled by his efforts.

He hummed in response, fingers sliding past the rolls of your skirt to the thin fabric of your underclothing, the heat of his hand nearly burning despite the barrier.

Pulling back again, his smoldering gaze settled to yours. He was wordless, chest heaving, but the intent on his face was perfectly clear.

You nodded, once, your own heart racing.

He didn’t hesitate, his palm coming to rest on the curve of your ass. He squeezed, earning a slight squeak from you, before finding your bare skin. The calloused pads of his palm almost tickling the soft surface of your belly as he ventured lower, lower still, invading your innermost privacy.

His finger prodded through your folds, giving an exploratory swipe. The grin on his face nearly made you blush.

“Already that wet,” he murmured. “Was you expectin’ this?”

You didn’t answer, only managing to give him a smile. The leg still hitched at his waist opened invitingly.

He growled in satisfaction, sliding his thumb down to the hood of flesh that housed your clit. He played you like a fiddle, a small wave of pleasure bubbling to the surface. You bit your lip to keep from moaning out loud.

Arthur’s lips attached to your jaw, teeth grazing against your pulse point. You could only hang on as he pleasured you. You whimpered quietly, his name sliding off your tongue like smoke.

His pace hastened, his finger sliding into your entrance, buried to the knuckle. Your inner walls welcomed him in without resistance. He teased your center, thumb and finger working in tandem. Another quiet moan slid from your lips as you trembled against him. His mouth decidedly began to leave marks along your neck.

“That’s it,” he growled against your sweaty, bruised skin. “I want to feel ya.”

Hell, you could reduce to a puddle for him with that tone. Low and demanding. You’d only heard it when he had someone cornered, guns up and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. That domineering tone always left someone cowering and bending to his will.

And it excited you all that much more.

You bucked into his hand, vainly searching for more friction, more of him. He straightened up and stared at you, a teasing smirk sliding across his lips.

“Needy lil’ thing, ain’t ya?”

You moaned to him, grinding down into his palm. He however slowed down, his free hand digging so hard into the meat of your ass it made you wince.

“Ah ah,” he chided lightly. “You want more, you’re gonna have to be good.”

“Good?” you repeated.

“Be a good girl,” he purred to you, leaning in as his breath ghosted across your face. “And you’ll get what you want.”

You understood immediately, though having no further moment to consider when he picked up again, pressing against your fleshy nub and curling his finger within. It’d almost caught you off-guard, gasping quietly as you rested the back of your head against the tree, focusing on keeping your voice down.

He was slow and methodical at first, drawing out your pleasure, eyes fixated on you as you chewed on your lip, fighting yourself not to grind down on his hand again. It was hard; the selfish intent all but screaming at you in your head.

He was very watchful of your expression, that damned smirk knowing he was getting to you. “You want more?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, surprised by how shaky and desperate your voice was.

He hummed in satisfaction, a second finger poking at your entrance before joining the first. The stretch was minimal, but from all the built-up need, it felt too damn good.

“Arthur...” you sighed as he increased his pace, yet again fighting the urge to move with him. It was too irresistible, and you bucked into his palm again.

The smack of his other palm against your ass nearly had you reeling.

“What’d I say?” he growled in that voice again. That dangerous voice that both terrified and excited you.

Your only response was a squeak, but the rush of your pleasure increased fivefold.

Arthur seemed to take notice, the look of sly triumph appearing on his face. “You like that,” he chuckled. “Like it when I rough you up?”

“God, yes!” you spoke a little too loudly. Having realized you smacked your hand across your mouth. The ideal of someone else hearing—

He chuckled again; a dangerous tone. You were at his utter mercy, a victim of his game. “Good girl,” he breathed to you, voice dripping with honey. A shiver raked through your body, grateful for the praise as you moaned wantonly through your fingers. The embers in your core fanned into a fire, an eruption soon on the horizon.

“A-Arthur,” you stammered, nails digging into his shoulder. Should you keep it at bay?

Oh, that sly look of his. He knew what was coming. “C’mon, don’t keep me waitin’,” he instructed, dragging his thick fingers against your velvet walls, his thumb never leaving your clit. His eyes like icy shards boring into your very soul.

You didn’t have to be told twice. The excitement, the fear—the way he managed to weasel into you, all too much. A few short, savory seconds ticked by, stoking the raging fire until it exploded, rushing through every muscle, every nerve, your body contracting around him. You choked back a moan of satisfaction, only to have Arthur plant his lips to yours, selfishly stealing your pleasure from you.

As the waves ceased, his fingers lightened up though never pausing. You wriggled, wincing from the overstimulation, whining against him. Any attempt to move away was wasted effort from how he had you pinned.

Finally, he removed his hand, allowing you to catch your breath. Your legs trembled beneath you as you attempted to stand, but thankfully still had his arm to support you.

He held his hand up to the moonlight, dampened and glistening in the silver glow. He smirked and brought it to his mouth. Your eyes widened and heart leapt when he lapped up your fluids, savoring it like a delicious steak.

His eyes set to you again. “Take off your clothes.”

Your fingers worked faster than your mind, disrobing yourself without second thought. Your blouse and your skirt fell to the forest floor in a heap, leaving you in just your chemise and bloomers. As you began to peel the next layer off, you’d caught a glimpse of what was to come. He'd exposed himself, erect cock in hand, pumping lazily while he watched you with a hawk-like gaze.

Your mouth watered at the sight. Thicker than expected, enough to send a fresh wave of pure need at the thought of him stretching you out. You hastened your pace until you stood before him, naked as the day you were born.

Completely and utterly exposed to this dangerous outlaw, much more than any halfway decent man.

His eyes raked over your figure hungrily, as if you were a treasure, beckoning for his greed. “Lay down,” he rumbled.

The forest floor was surprisingly soft against your back. Even in this level of exposure, beneath his domineering command, you still wanted to tease. You spread your legs and slid your hand sensually down the midline of your body, toying with yourself, watching as his body shifted at the sight.

A split-second break in his demeanor, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he growled, kneeling before you and shimmying his jeans halfway down his thighs. Knocking your hand in favor of his own, fingertip sliding through your slit. He groaned at your wetness, scooting forward and forcing your legs even further apart. His hips bucked forward, sliding his length along your folds, teasing you on his own accord. You shuddered at the mere touch, impatiently waiting for him.

“So damn pretty,” he grumbled. “Open and ready for me...like a good girl.”

You smiled at him. “Then take me.”

His hands gripped your thighs, shoving himself in without a second of hesitation. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, the stretch unlike anything you’d imagined. He filled you so deliciously, so perfectly—

Arthur didn’t give you a chance to even think. Slamming himself in and out of you like a machine, a vice grip on your legs as he had his way with you. You squeaked and moaned, clawing at the soft earth for purchase—to ground yourself from getting too lost in your ecstasy. His name gasped from your lips more than you cared to count.

He stared down hard at you, brow furrowed and eyes bright. “Look at you,” he purred. “Callin’ my name like a songbird—” his voice cracked slightly from his own pleasure. “You like bein’ fucked like this?”

“Y-yes,” you mewled, absolutely writhing beneath him, tilting your head back.

One hand left your leg in favor of your jaw. Strong but not painful yet forcing you to look at him. “What was that?”

“Yes!” you repeated. “God, yes, Arthur Morgan!” you sang, uncaring of your volume now. Everything felt too damn good to keep contained.

That wicked grin split across his face. Maniacal and satisfied, he released your chin, his rough palm landing onto your breast. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t need him to be. The way he squeezed your mound, pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers. Further he ventured before returning to that bundle of nerves—Jesus, it was a miracle your soul hadn’t left your body.

But that second wave was coming, rushing fast and you didn’t intend to prolong it. Your hand swung up and raked at his back, signifying its arrival.

Arthur took the hint right away, piledriving even harder with a grunt. “Go on,” he huffed. “Let go for me.”

Within seconds your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, just as powerful as the first, sending your body into a back-arching, toe-curling convulsion. The sound from your mouth so lewd you almost didn’t recognize it as your own.

Like before, his hand didn’t let up, milking you of your orgasm until the last drop. His eyes so intently focused on you, a half smirk on his lips despite how hard he fucked you. “That’s it,” he chuckled, only removing his hand when you began to writhe again. He then pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness feeling foreign. He gestured for you to turn over. You did hastily, positioning on your hands and knees for him to grab your hips. Only a short second passed before he buried himself back in, continuing as if there hadn’t been a pause.

“Fuck,” he grunted, fingertips digging deep enough into your flesh to bruise. Skin slapping skin filled your ears, almost drowning out your mewls and moans. Your fingers dug into the soft dirt, the only leverage you had.

You pushed your ass further back against him, forcing him even deeper. The groan to follow was guttural, beastly. His right palm slammed upon your butt, drawing a squeal from you. The sweet sting only added to the once again hastily growing pleasure.

“Damn, woman,” he growled to you. “You’re drivin’ me nuts.”

You couldn’t help but to giggle breathlessly to yourself, knowing that is what exactly led you two here. Even in such a compromised position, you could still play.

He leaned over you, torso caging yours in as his hands left your hips to favor your tits. He squeezed and pinched just as before, short breaths tickling your ear. He whispered, “I’m close.”

It sent a shiver down your spine. You egged him on, rolling your hips and arcing your back like a cat in heat. You were melting in his grip yet manipulating him, his near animalistic groans like music to your ears. He hissed your name—oh did it sound so lovely—before straightening back up, pounding himself with abandon.

It wasn’t much longer until his hips began to lose rhythm, and his presence once again disappeared from you. A deep groan sounded, followed by a sudden streak of heat on the already burning skin of your butt. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him kneeling there, hand around the base of his cock, a pearly string of his spend the only thing connecting you to him.

His chest heaved, his skin dewy in the moonlight. Even in the silver wash and still fully clothed, the shadows accentuated his muscles perfectly. Good lord, he looked amazing.

Once his breathing regulated, he gazed upon you as if you were a masterpiece. “Beautiful,” he snickered, reaching around his neck to remove the handkerchief and, with surprisingly gentle hands, wiped the mess he’d left on you.

You smiled in response, slowly turning yourself to face him. “I should make fun of you more often, Mr. Morgan."

The fire in his eyes returned, despite how visibly exhausted he appeared. “Can’t guarantee I’d let ya get away with it,” he rumbled.

“Guess I didn’t learn my lesson,” you teased, your smile turning into a smirk. “Another punishment in order?”

He scoffed in response, though reaching to trap your jaw in his hand with the same grip from earlier. He leaned in close, his breath tickling your nose. “What did I say ‘bout bein’ good?” he warned.

If your own body hadn’t been crying for bed, you’d damn well be out here all night with him. “I can be good...sometimes,” you countered.

Arthur rolled his eyes. Instead of responding, he released your jaw and stood up, offering you a hand which you gladly took, surprised by how shaky your legs were.

He tucked himself back into his pants while you redressed, albeit somewhat clumsily. Your clothes stuck awkwardly from how sweaty your body was. Your hair had been disheveled with pieces of nature sticking out here and there. Arthur however looked the same as he did before, aside from the fresh rosy hue on his cheeks and a forehead dampened with sweat.

Walking back to camp would be interesting. You secretly hoped no one else was still up late enough to hear your shenanigans.

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x female reader

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pearlywritings · 2 years

Text

Lend me a helping shoulder

synopsis: The end of the month is always hard on the Twilight Sword, so it’s no wonder that you want to come over and support your hard-working lover. But first, you’ll need someone to help you. Up.

pairing: Dainsleif x fem!reader, feat Halfdan

tw: Khaenri’ah era, established relationship, some crack but mainly fluff

word count: 2.2k+ words

author’s note: I needed a break from what I am working on right now, and the idea of carrying your friend on your shoulders so she could kiss her man through the window has been sitting in my head for years.

Another drop falls from the tip of the quill and hits the paper, bursting into smaller blots of ink, completely ruining the half-written report. A tired sigh and then a hand reaches to crumple the document and throw it in a bin to dispose later. New parchment is laid upon the wooden surface and the quill dips in an inkwell for the hundredth time this evening. Or it would be more accurate to say night already.

The lights within the palace are off, and Dainsleif has just one lamp on, illuminating his working desk and piles of papers stacked on top of it. It doesn't look that bad - the pile with finished work is way bigger than the one that still needs to be tended to. The man though looks awful - dark circles around his stark eyes make his gaze look more miserable than he'd actually let on, hair is quite disheveled from how many times he ran his fingers through blond locks, there is a red mark on his cheek - one yet to disappear after he had that very cheek supported by the fist, or otherwise he pretty much would've hit the desk face first. A cape with a Royal Guard emblem embroidered on its back and black gloves are abandoned, parts of armor that are quick and easy to put back on if there is a state of emergency are neatly placed on a chair near the window, and a couple of buttons on his shirt are popped open. If any of his underlings saw him at the moment, they'd see a sight of what a royal knight should never look like.

However Dainsleif is exhausted. It's the end of the month, there are major reports that need to be passed to the higher-ups at the Court and they really love changing the filling template every now and then, as if they don't have any more important tasks to attend to. This time, regretfully, they decided it's time to replace the format yet again and informed the Captain almost at the last minute. The man would love to be mad, but at this point his brain have only one legible thought: finish the work as soon as possible and maybe, if he is lucky enough, catch a couple of hours of sleep before the time he'll need to pass these stacks to dozens of secretaries and make it their problem, not his.

The document he is rewriting right now is not the first of the kind - it's been two or so hours since his consciousness started to slowly but surely slip from his grasp. It is annoying on its own already, but the next thing that happens makes anger spark in his blood. There is something steadily knocking against his window. He knows for a fact there are no trees growing near the wall, besides he can hear no wind that could've hypothetically made a branch hit the glass rhythmically. A bird? Yeah, it could be, a little irritating thing, that doesn't know that the night is the night and you freaking sleep and not come bothering a busy Captain.

Huuuuh… Well, standing up, cracking some joints and walking to the window and back sounds like a small break. Who knows, maybe it'll even help the man gain his concentration back. Oh, the pitch black sky above, and the night could've been worse, if he had patrolling on his plate as well today.

The chair squeaks against the floorboards and Dainsleif winces - he really needs to ask for a carpet. The paper is placed upon the tall stack and the quill falls near the inkwell - he'll clean the blots later if there are any. Stretching, the blond yawns, cracking his neck and groaning in slight pain, grasping the nape and rubbing it. Tired eyes disappear behind heavy eyelids as he takes the first step in the direction he needs to reach. There are new knocks and it drives the knight mad. He snaps his eyes open and glares at, as he assumes, a bird…

…only to halt in his steps and blink in surprise. There is no bird sitting on the windowsill outside, but there is your figure in the frame. When you see that he has finally noticed you, a smile brightens your lovely face and a hand waves at him excitedly in greeting. Dainsleif rubs at his eyes. Is he hallucinating? He must be, he most definitely must be, his mind playing tricks on him, hinting that it's really time to go and hit the sack. While his office is indeed on the first floor, the window is way too high up from the ground - there is absolutely no way you can stand like this in front of it.

But then you call for his name and he moves quicker than his mind finally registers that yes, you are real. He is at the window in two steps, turning the handle and opening it wide, letting the night air in his stuffy office. The coolness and freshness washes over him and suddenly it becomes so much easier to breathe.

"I see you are as busy as I expected," your voice is even sweeter with the glass barrier out of the way, and Dainsleif almost loses himself in it. He'd lose himself in anything that feels like a glimpse of salvation right now.

"Y/n…" your name leaves dried lips hoarsely, and the man clears his throat to continue. "What are you doing here? No, how are you up here?"

The soft smile on your face suddenly becomes mischievous and you point at something beneath you. Not understanding a thing, your lover puts his hands on a windowsill and leans out of the window. There, keeping you seated on his shoulders, one of his knights is standing, the one Dainsleif knows all too well.

"Good evening, Captain! Or should I say night?" Halfdan is grinning, keeping his hands wrapped around your calves for security. Stunned, his superior redirects his gaze at you and you almost topple over with laughter at how flabbergasted he looks. He wants to ask something, but your lips are on his faster than any sound can leave them. Eyes slightly widen, but then just as fast the lids drop and the kiss is reciprocated. Your hands quickly and with clear impatience find their way in blond soft hair and his palms cup your face in a desperate attempt to pull you closer. He missed it, missed you to the aching of his heart, to the burning in his veins. Your touch feels intoxicating and he hasn't had a drop of liquor in weeks, drowning himself in training and work. Your skin is so warm under his cold hands, and you shiver when he runs thumbs over your cheekbones affectionately. You gasp as the fingertips accidentally brush the sides of your neck and Dainsleif seizes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, mind foggy and body hurting with nagging need…

The kiss is over way quicker than he'd love it to be and you both gasp and pant, still holding onto each other as if one of you is going to disappear. Some part deep inside the man's brain still thinks you are just a mirage, and you feel a small twinge of fear that he'll just close the window and return to his knightly duties.

You stare at each other in silence, unblinking and unmoving, chests rapidly rising and falling. Dainsleif wants to kiss you again, you want to feel his lips on you one and many more times, and just when you are ready to act upon your selfish desires, a polite cough breaks through the entrancing atmosphere.

"Hate to be third-wheeling, but I am still here," a voice from below interrupts the two of you. Heat rises to your cheeks and Dainsleif masks his own embarrassment with a groan. Slipping up in front of his subordinate like this…how unprofessional. It is Halfdan, no less, which means he'll never live his friendly teasing down.

"So…" the blond clears his throat and looks at the man and you in turn. "What's going on and why are the two of you…like this?"

"Don't ask me, Captain, I am merely offering a shoulder - or two - in whatever plan this crazy girl has…ouch!" You gently but tangibly poke his side with the tip of the shoe.

"You agreed to participate in whatever this crazy girl has in mind with no questions asked, aren't you crazy too?"

"Well," the knight chuckles, "it includes a friend of mine, surely his lovely fiancee would do him no harm."

"Fair," you huff, quickly losing all interest in this pointless banter and opting to peck the cheek of your lover, sweetly murmuring, "missed you so bad…"

Halfdan snickers when he hears his superior's shuddering exhale - whatever you told him has the usually collected man crumble because of your words.

"Hey, Halfdan, can you hoist her up?"

At that he hums, unwrapping his fingers from around your calves and putting flat palms under your feet.

"Well, if she manages to stand up and you hold her by the waist, there is a big chance she'll be sitting on your windowsill in a moment."

Dainsleif reaches for your middle section and you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. With a powerful tug you are straightened up, held by your lover on one end and weight supported by Halfdan on the other, and with one more push you are lifted and securely seated where the blond wants you to with legs dangling outside.

"What an eventful night," the man dusts his hands off and rolls his shoulders a couple of times, "I deserve a raise for this, don't you think so, Captain?"

"I don't remember the protocols saying anything about honoring the knight for helping a woman sneak into their superior’s quarters," Dainsleif smirks, meanwhile helping you get inside the room, and Halfdan finally sees the man his friend is - for a moment he really thought his real self was destroyed by the monthly reports.

"Well, knight protocols maybe do not, but I am sure the woman in question has her conscience. You owe me one, remember it! But for now, have a great night love birds," saluting with a playful wink, Halfdan turns around and resumes the patrolling route Dainsleif suddenly remembers he assigned his friend to.

The window clicks closed and two lovers find their bodies in a tight embrace, almost knocking the chair nearby. Holding his breath, the blond expects the armor he put there earlier this evening to crash on the floor with disturbing loudness, but, thank whoever is listening, nothing falls.

Your lips find his again and all the worries disappear, leaving only one feeling coursing through his system - yearning. The remnants of drowsiness are gone, replaced with the sweet awareness of your proximity, chests pressed and mouths married, the union breathing life into his worn out body.

You two are kissing for what feels like eternity, as you are slowly stepping further and further into the room, until he slides back into his chair, with you descending onto his lap, arms wrapped around his neck and his hands gripping onto your hips. Soft sighs caress each other’s skin, when you draw your faces away, and share a gaze full of love and adoration, both coming back to your senses, too drunk by the intimate display of affection.

The lover of yours relaxes in the back of the chair, smiling contently and bringing one of your hands to press a kiss to your knuckles, not even once taking his eyes off of your beloved face.

“So… Can I have an explanation?”

Your fingers brush against his lips and reach to tuck a lock behind his ear, baring his jawline. Your lips are on his pale skin in a second, ghosting butterfly kisses all over the length of it.

“Mhm… You haven’t come home in a few days and I figured you were busy and, most likely, miserable. I was planning to visit you, even if it meant hours of convincing the guards to let me in - after all I am not yet an official member of your family, - but just when I was crossing the garden I spotted Halfdan and asked him if he’d assist me in getting to you. He agreed, your window was closer than the entrance, and everything else is history. But hey! - it saved me time and efforts to get inside the legal way.”

“‘The legal way’ ,” the man snorts, the hold on your waist tightening and nose burying in your hair. “You know I should actually arrest you for entering the palace without permission?”

“Then arrest me,” you suddenly say and draw your face back to look up at him. “Arrest me for the night and keep me in your office under your unwavering gaze - it’d be such a shame to go and wake the dungeon warden at such an awful hour, wouldn’t it?”

“You,” Dainsleif shakes his head in disbelief, emotions bubbling in his chest, threatening to burst out in a laughter. “Halfdan is right - you are crazy.”

“Crazy with love for you,” you declare, cupping his face with both of your palms and peppering kisses all over his lovely visage. “Crazy enough to be up with you until you finish work.”

“And then?” He quietly muses , and your lips stretch into a soft smile, that promises you’ll stay.

“I think your office's sofa is quite comfortable to fit two people.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x fem!reader #dainsleif #genshin impact fluff

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sinning-23 · 2 years

Text

How're They in Bed?

arcane headcannons to quench my thirst :) enjoy hoes

Silco

-He’s pretty good

-8 inches, curves to the left

-very well groomed

-fucks like a god (only from previous experience that minx lol)

-expect rough yet slow strokes

-he is definitely a switch but preference to top

-i feel hes the type to be more of a dominant lover and want to have control.

-call him sir, it just does t for him

-has a thing for knives and shibari

-likes to bite or be bitten(he cant explain it that feral mf)

-will consider bottoming but has to lay down very strong, non-negotiable groudn rules

-very whiny and gasoy when he bottoms

-”O-Oh! Fukc, dont blow- OH!”

-falls asleep about half an hour after.

-not the best at aftercare but will try his best

-overallscore 9.5/10

Sevika

-of course she knows how ot fuck after how much time she spends at that damn brothel….

-she is skilled with her fingers, tongue, and the strap

-FREAKY ASF

-i mean sevika is downright nasty!

- will spit in your mouth

-Loves pillow princesses she wants to make sure she’s putting in good work.

-will try her damndest to get you to squirt (shes filthy i tell you)

-”Keep theses fucking legs spread.”

-Knows your clit ant handke anymore but doesnt care. She wants to rip as many orgasms from you as possible

-shes on the cream team

-doesnt shave, doesnt feel the need to since shes usually the one giving that receiving.

-expects to have that metal arm all over you (and in you)

-her strap is black and has plenty ridges along it

-7 inches

-will have you suck it for her, she loves that shit

-overallscore 8.5/10

Vander

-stfu coke can cock because i said so….

-long, strong, and here to bring the friction on (pls shoot me lmao mad unnecessary mc hamer lyric)

-Super veiny

-leaks hella

“Can my pretty pet fit all this in their mouth? Yeah? Show me”

-fucks in the mirror

“Look at how pretty you are, watch me fuck into you, feel me stretching you out”

Will coach you through it. And fuck is it hot

-has a thing for gags. Had one custom made for you speakingof which

-holds your hand when you cum

“Thats it, look at that face, so so so pretty. Wanna let me fuck this hole of youse just one more time?”

Wonderful at aftercare. Knows he can be a bit much in the package department so is always sire to help you out after.

-Overall score 10/10

Pretty good in bed ngl.

Shes cocky tho

Will show off her tats

Switch, and is happy with a either one

Please eat her out, she’ll beg so pretty she just wants to feel your mouth

“Oh god yes, yes, yes, please!”

-will squirt if you get her worked up enough

-She bites and bites hard. I feel like she also likes to leave lot of hickeys

-I feel likes shes got very pretty boobs.Like theyre perfect and always perky.

-slurps when she eats

-She likes to pull hair more times than not

-Is a bit clumsy(fell off the bed once)

-for th love of god bite her lip when you kiss her

-overall score 8/10

Viktor

-Oh lord

-i wont say he has no skill whatsoever, but its pretty limited.

-hen doesnt get intimate with very many an thinks the whole thing is very special

-He usually is the one reciving since his leg makes it a bit difficult to more and be as active as hed like with his partner

-nine times out of ten he’ll either have his partner ride or oral

-Is VERY good at coaching his partner

-”Yes, thats it, does that feel good? Perhaps i should curl my fingers upwards just.. Like…this-”

-very good with aftercare. Will bring you water and a warm towel.

-likes having his hair pulled

-is very sensitive i think, like just kissing th etip is enough to send him into a frenzy.

-overall score 9/10

Jayce

Oh jesus CHRISt

-bratty

-service top

-likes begging called “good boy”

-Has a thing gor shibari and blindfolds

-peg him, hes been waiting for this lmao

-Whiny when he moans but can get very growly/groan when hes close

-likes to be choked and bitten (Lil freakaleak)

-im not saying he has an authority kink….but i am saying that if a ‘yes sir/ma’am’ slips out dont hold it against him

-kinda really shitty at aftercar…welll its usually him that is at the reciving end ofthe aftercare but still!

-will fall asleep almost immediately after

-hes a pillow prince lmao

-overall score 7.5/10

Marcus

-bet you didntthink id write for this fucker lmao

-him an dhis stupis, shitty, sexy sideburns >:(

-marcus doesnt have secks…he fuck and fucks hard

-i feel likes hes the type to hatefuck and just be so filthy about it

-“Oh i bet you like that dont you slut? Like the way this cok feels inside you?”

-strangly enough is packing. I mena id have a bitchy attitude and act like i was the shit 24/7 if i has a monster cock too lmao

-fucks faces and loveeeesss wathcing his s/o choke on it

-’c’mon prince/princess i know you can take”

-Pulls hair, smacks ass,degrades like no other-

-aftercare sucks

-hes the type to blow his load and hit the road and then demand you fuck him again when you see eachother

-overstim 100%

-wil spit in your mouth, smirk, and make you swallow

-”look at you, being so obedient for me”

-overall score 9.5/10

#arcane #smUt #leageoflegends #marcus arcane #silco arcane #jayce talis #viktor arcane #vi arcane #sevika arcane #headcannns #x reader

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

oh captain ~ jack sparrow;pirates of the caribbean

word count: 2488

request?: yes!

“Can you do a Captain Jack Sparrow smut where the reader has a kink of calling Jack her captain”

description: in which she loves to call him her captain, even in the most intimate of situations

pairing: jack sparrow x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

It all started as a joke.

I came aboard the Black Pearl in search of my sister, Elizabeth Swann, and her secret lover, Will Turner. It was no secret that they were travelling with notorious Captain Jack Sparrow and, although my parents did not exactly like Will Turner, they had sent me as a way to tell Elizabeth that they were giving her their blessing to marry Will.

Of course, the moment I - a single, young maiden that had often been described as “beautiful” by my suitors - stepped on to the ship, the captain himself couldn’t keep his eyes off of me. There was many a moment in which Elizabeth had to actually tell Jack that he was being too forward or too crass with me. I liked to play along with his games as well and would tease him back. My favorite way of teasing him was to call him “Captain” in a sarcastic manner.

The first time I said it was in response to Jack’s very bossy tone as he told Elizabeth and I to do something. “Oh, of course, Captain.”

I could see a fire light in his eyes even then as he looked at me. “What did you say?”

“Well, you insist that we on the boat here refer to you as your supposed title,” I had told him. “I was just saying it. I thought you would like that.”

“The way you said it,” he pointed out. “It wasn’t very...crewman like.”

“Oh, my apologies, Captain.”

The fire ignited in his eyes again, but he decided to leave it be this time and to go on to yell commands at his other crewmates.

That’s how it all started. It was just a joke, a way to poke fun at Jack without being too harsh. I used the nickname almost every time I saw him, and almost every time I could see a look on his face that was hard to understand.

That was, until I found myself bent over his desk moaning the original teasing nickname repeatedly.

I never expected to find myself falling for Captain Jack Sparrow. Elizabeth had told me many a story about his attempts at courting beautiful maidens, including herself despite her love for Will. The stories led me to believing that Jack was just a man who wanted to use then leave a woman. I wrote him off as nothing more than a scoundrel, a pirate captain. Oh, what a fool I was.

No one on the ship knew of our love affair, especially not Elizabeth. I loved my sister dearly and I knew she would never judge me for who I had fallen in love with, however I also knew she couldn’t keep a secret from our parents for the life of her, and the last thing I needed was to break my parents hearts by telling them that their youngest daughter had fallen in love with a pirate.

That’s why I continued to use the teasing nickname in such fashion in front of my sister, but every time I used it, I could see that spark of desire in Jack’s eyes.

There was one day that we were on course for some sort of treasure that Jack was dying to find.

“It’s been lost for hundreds of years,” he was explaining to Will. Elizabeth and I were trying to help some of the crewmen and overheard the conversation that both men were refusing to tell us. “Wealth and riches beyond your wildest dreams. You could buy over Elizabeth’s parents with that sort of money.”

“I don’t think anything could buy over Elizabeth’s parents at this rate,” Will joked. “But do you really believe it to be truth? I’ve heard it’s nothing but a - ”

“A pirate’s tale,” Jack finished. “A way to lead pirates to their deaths? I’ve heard those stories, too. But there’s only one way to find out.”

“Mad man is going to get us killed,” Elizabeth whispered to me. “He only cares for the riches he may get, he doesn’t think of the countless lives he’s risking.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” I responded. “Anything that will shower him in gold and recognition is his top priority.”

“What are you two talking about down there?” Jack called from his perch at the steering wheel.

Elizabeth and I shared a teasing glance before Elizabeth responded, “Just about how smart you are, my dear captain! This journey can only go right!”

Jack raised an eyebrow at the obvious sarcasm in Elizabeth’s voice before his eyes landed on me.

“We were discussing how much recognition you will get once you find this totally real treasure you’re looking for,” I said. I paused a moment before giving Jack a brief smirk as I added, “Captain.”

He shuffled a little, trying to make his lust seem like he was just annoyed with me and Elizabeth. I couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly at him before turning back to Elizabeth, who was also giggling.

“You both doubt me,” he finally said after a long stretch of silence, “but I’ll show you both, and this whole boat, that I am right and this treasure is real.”

He came down from his perch and walked into the room that was designated as “his office”, his eyes meeting mine for a split moment. “I’m going to study the map for some time, please do not disturb me.”

What he really meant was, No one else come disturb me, I will be fucking (Y/N)’s brains out.

I felt myself becoming tingly between my legs, a regular sensation that Jack was able to get out of me. I tried to keep a light look on my face, but it was hard to do so when all I wanted was to follow him into that room.

“You two should be kinder to him,” Will said, although he, too, was laughing. “He’s been kind enough to let us travel with him.”

“After trying to get under mine and (Y/N)’s skirts for a few months,” Elizabeth added. “He knows that we like him and that we are grateful for him. It’s just so easy to tease him sometimes.”

Tell me about it, I thought to myself.

“Maybe we should leave the captain alone to his mapping for a while,” Will said, wrapping an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. It was his only silent way of asking Elizabeth for what Jack was trying to get from me.

“Perhaps we should,” she responded and gave her husband to be a light kiss on his lips.

The two left without another word to me, which was alright by me. It meant that I didn’t have to make up an excuse as to why I was “disturbing” Jack when he asked me not to.

Once I was sure they were too busy with one another to notice me, I turned and raced for the door. I hastily did mine and Jack’s secret knock before shoving the door open. I was shocked to see that the room before me was empty - the desk where Jack usually sat waiting for me was empty, and there was almost no sight of him at all.

Before I could even consider why this had happened, the door slammed behind me and I felt someone take hold of my throat and shove me against the closed door. Jack’s lips met mine and I felt the familiar explosive feeling I had whenever we kissed. His hands were already roughly pulling at my skirt, trying to pull it up around my hips.

“Someone is impatient,” I breathed against his lips. “You told everyone not to disturb you, remember? You don’t have to be so fast and so rough.”

“But if I take you quickly once, I can take you again before anyone notices that we’re even gone.”

His dirty words ignited a fire in me. I giggled as he picked me up in his arms and laid me down on his desk. The poor thing had seen more of our action than any actual work that Jack had ever done. I was surprised that it was still standing after all this time.

I took hold of the back of Jack’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Our lips moved so perfectly with one another as his hands trailed up my bare legs, his cold rings leaving shivers where they trailed. I pulled at his pants, trying desperately to get them off. He chuckled against my lips, the vibrations running through my entire body.

“Who is the impatient one now?” he asked.

“Not like the great Captain to leave a girl waiting in her desire,” I teased, hoping the nickname would be used to my advantage.

Lucky for me, I knew that was the one thing that could break Jack. He roughly pulled at the strings around the back of my dress, causing it to loosen and fall off my body completely. Once my dress was a heap on the floor, Jack pushed me onto the desk so I was laying on my back. I watched as he undid his pants and pulled them down just far enough for his hard member to pop free. Just seeing how hard he was from the little amount of teasing we had been doing was enough to make me start dripping in anticipation.

I gasped as I felt him pushing himself into me. No matter how many times we had sex, I still continued to be shocked by how big he was. He made my eyes roll into the back of my head just by filling me with his hard cock.

His hand found my hair and he roughly pulled me up so my body was pressed against his. “What’s my name, love?”

“Captain,” I breathed, dying to move my hips against his to get some sort of friction between us. But I knew that would only result in him punishing me for being naughty.

My response earned me a few slow thrusts. I bit my lip as to not moan too loud, but it was hard to keep quiet during one of our rendezvous. They were often few and far between, leaving the two of us very pent up and needing of release when the time came.

“Say it again for me my pet,” he purred.

“Captain,” I moaned, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him as closely as I could. “Oh, Captain.”

The grip he had on my hair tightened as he began to thrust into me more, now going at a quicker and more steady pace. I pressed my lips to his to try and muffle my moans, which were now starting to become loud enough for anyone who would be passing by to hear.

I moaned out the name a few more times, which led to me being laid back over the desk yet again with Jack leaning over me, his thrusts so rough now that the desk was being moved. I arched my back against him, trying to get him as far into me as he could go. One of his hands was gripping my thigh while the other was wrapped around my throat, pressing slightly against the sides every now and then, and causing me to feel lightheaded.

Jack was always able to hit a spot in me that made my brain turn to mush and my eyes roll back into my head. I could barley think straight when he was pounding that spot relentlessly inside of me, especially at that moment when the only thing I could feel was waves of pleasure rippling through my body.

I managed to pull my thoughts together enough to utter out a sentence, “I’m so close, Captain.”

“Let me feel you come undone around me, my pet,” he said. I could feel him twitching inside of me, indicating that he was close to finishing himself.

My fingers curled into the desk as I felt myself hitting my climax. My entire body seemed to curl in some way as I felt myself contracting around Jack. His hands slipped under my arched back, pulling my body up to press against him as he did his final thrusts and finished inside of me.

The aftermath of our love making rarely lasted long in fear of being caught. Jack held me for a short amount of time, kissing the top of my head and whispering sweet nothings into my ear, before he finally had to pull away from me and begin to redress himself. I pulled my dress back up.

“You mind tying me back up?” I asked him, turning around to present my still bare back to him.

He laced the strings through their proper holes and tied it tight enough that it would stay up, but not too tight to cause discomfort.

“Do you really think you’ll find that treasure you’re on route for?” I asked him once he was finished. “Do you think it’s real?”

“I choose to believe every treasure is real until proven otherwise,” he responded. “I know everyone on the ship thinks that I’m leading us to our deaths, but I truly believe there is something waiting for us at our destination.”

“Well, if you believe it then I believe you,” I said. “What do you plan on doing with your riches once you get them?”

“I’ll share them amongst the crew,” he started. “There’s supposedly enough to keep a dozen men from having to work for the rest of their lives, and I have just a little over a dozen men on this ship. What I keep for myself I’m going to use to get a better ship. The old Black Pearl is starting to see her end I’m afraid. And, with whatever is left, I intend to buy you a rock so big and so stunning that any royal woman would be jealous of it.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and gave my knuckles a soft kiss.

“You intend to marry me?” I asked him.

“Of course I do. Why do you seem shocked to hear that?”

I chuckled. “Well, the stories I’ve heard about the great Captain Jack Sparrow, none of them made it sound like he would ever settle down with a woman.”

Jack smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist, looking lovingly into my eyes. I could get lost staring into those beautiful eyes of his.

“A man must know when the right woman has come along,” he told me. “Especially a pirate. And the moment you stepped foot on my ship, I knew you were the right woman.”

“You sweet talker,” I said before pressing my lips to his. “When you do get me that ring, just know that I will say yes.”

“Of course, my love. And I cannot wait to have you to sail the seas with for the rest of my life.”

#jack sparrow #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow smut #jack sparrow x reader #captain jack sparrow #johnny depp #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp smut #johnny depp x imagine #imagine #one shot #smut #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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aetheternity · 3 years

Text

So sweet, just for me

Synopsis: Just some stories where reader takes care of Virgin! Armin.

Disclaimer: Unprotected sex, blowjobs, Sub Armin and sexually experienced Y/N are all present in this. Minors exit now.

☆☆Just Summer Things☆☆

Sweat coursed down the expanse of every inch of your body. Or maybe it was water you weren't really sure. A set of carefully trimmed nails shivered and shook beside your head, digging into the grimy tree bark. Locks of sun kissed blonde hair stuck to parts of your neck, face and collarbone as you coaxed Armin's breathing down. Forehead resting uncomfortably against the bark and your ass firmly seated against his hips.

"How do you feel sweet boy?"

"I-I.." He panted, pulling his face back a little. Blue doe eyes full of lust and the sweet shine of tears.

His cock currently pressed delicately against your g-spot during what started out as a normal water balloon fight. Between the boys and the girls of course. You guys had all come out during late afternoon, Sasha and Connie started tossing water balloons and teams formed accordingly.

At some point you'd run off to what you thought was a safe zone only to find Armin perched in the bushes. Contemplation etched into his soft features.

"Move slowly ok." You encourage. You were surprised by how big he was sure but the warning was more so this could last for a while.

He nodded where you were still holding the back of his head. His nails cautiously unlatching from the tree moving instead to sink into the fat of your hips while at the same time his once snugly nestled cock began to move. The sweet drag forcing your toes to curl and your eyes to shut. A small exhale cresting off your lips.

A breathy moan fell from his trembling lips as he pulls you in closer. Wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing around you like a lifeline.

You'd met Armin only two years ago through Jean and continued to crush on him for the entirety of those two years. Until today when he'd admitted to you that he was a little ashamed of being a virgin while consistently having to listen to Eren, Connie and Jean's conquests.

You told him they were probably lying about at least half of those stories but it only got you a small smile. So you decided to do him one better and offer to take his virginity.

It wasn't selfish. It was a win win. He would receive a conquest story to tell and you would get what you'd been craving since you'd first seen him in Jean's apartment shirtless and trying to help fix the messed up drain.

"Feels good?" You chuckle huskily

"Oh my God.." He huffs into your skin.

His hips worked themselves up a little faster. A slightly clumsy pace forming but he was new at this so you weren't mad.

"Armin slow down baby, I don't want you to get ahead of yourself."

"I-i'm sorry.. j-ust feels amazing.."

One of his hands hesitantly snaked up your shirt. Skittish in the way he palmed at your breast. Though he quickly eased up when you replied to the affection with a little mewl.

It felt surprisingly amazing for you as well. Considering the situation and the fact that Armin had never done this with anyone. This really was his first time.. What a weird thing to tell people. My first time was at a water balloon fight against a tree.

You hummed when the pleasure started to sit in your stomach. Legs trembling a bit as he pumped inside you a little faster. Any other time you would've just thrown your head back and relaxed, especially since his dick was so perfectly filling right now but-

"Armin, slow down." Your breathing was a little raspy.

He replied with a whimpery moan, thighs shaking against your sides. You reached an arm around grabbing his hips with your hand to slow them. It seemed to catch his attention because those soft doe eyes were wide.

"You'll get to cum baby I promise you, ease up a bit it's not a race." He nodded in affirmation and you smiled warmly.

Silk strands warm under your guided fingers as he pulled all the way out and slowly eased back in. A collective united moan exiting both your mouths. You'd shut your eyes but they worked themselves back open at the almost unnoticeable twitch of his cock head.

Your favorite part.

"Mm baby so close.." You whisper, your lip coming to tuck itself under your teeth.

A small chorus of yes's and little gasps fall from his open mouth. His skin somehow easing out of tomato red and into surface of the sun red.

You pull him close making sure his eyes were open. "I need you to cum for me ok? But make sure no one hears you." You say, and fuck is it gorgeous watching him come undone. Just like you'd imagined so many times before.

The tears once welling in his eyes spilled over like a faucet. Choked moans and harsh gasps worked their way off his lips. One of his hands flew back up to the tree where his nails soon dug the bark clean off. His hips stuttering through his entire orgasm. You were almost worried when his climax ended. The way he went silent except for his wild breathing.

"Armin?"

"Fuck.." He sighed

You couldn't help but giggle. "How was your first time?"

He gasps and rolls his eyes still stuck in euphoria. When he pulls out you take the opportunity to turn around. Working your panties up over your hips and pulling your fluttery skirt back down.

"Please, please let me do that again sometime.." He huffs finally managing words. You bring his lips to yours in a chaste kiss that honestly doesn't last long enough for you.

"Only if you promise to stay my good boy." You reply pulling his shorts up till they rest comfortably on his hips.

"I promise." He remarks, almost too eager. "Oh! Wait you didn't get to c-"

"Hey, where did you guys go?" Armin practically separates from his skin as Connie and Jean round the corner. Water guns tucked in their grasp.

"When did you guys get those?" You asked nonchalantly.

Jean shrugged, "We made the game more interesting."

Connie shook his head running back around the corner as Sasha's battle cry sounded.

"Hurry and get back we need you out there Armin." And with that Jean was gone too.

You picked up Armin's discarded water balloon, placing it in his open palm. "See you out there, lover boy."

☆☆Showing Armin how to do Yoga☆☆

"Why's Armin coming over here so early again?" Sasha asked rolling over onto her side. The bag of cotton candy once perched on her thighs flopping over and nearly spilling its contents.

"To do Yoga!" You replied with a laugh sitting the bag upright next to her.

She groaned dramatically. "But it's six thirty am on a Saturday."

"No one told you to get up with me." You remark, pushing the coffee table to the edge of the room.

She holds her once displaced bag up for you to see. "It was calling out to me." She sighs, hugging it to her chest.

A knock on the door takes your concentration. As you pull it open you call back to her, "Well since you're up, you might as well join us."

"Nope!" She quickly scurries away with a wave of her hand. Cotton candy stuffed under her arm.

You shut the door behind Armin as he stares down the hall that Sasha had disappeared down. Your grin is bright almost devilish as it slowly spreads across your face.

"Seems like it's just the two of us." You mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

You watch as he thickly gulps with a nod. Bite able Adam's apple bouncing but you pretend you don't notice. Your mat is already laid out on the floor but you can't stop yourself from bending over to smooth out the corners. Barely paying attention to Armin until you hear a small cough or maybe him choking it's not very clear.

He's holding his mat in his arms defensively across his chest. Silk strands of blond hair fluttering when he blinks. His cheeks a beautifully vibrant pink.

"I-I wanted to th-thank you.." He says, blue eyes trained where they stared at your mat. "For.. the- um.." He gestures and you can't help but giggle.

"The sex?"

Now his eyes find you. Blown wide as his pink lips part over a word that never succeeds in leaving his mouth. Your feet pat over the floor as you close the distance between the two of you. His cheeks warm under your delicate grasp and you hold his face almost as though you're sure he'll shatter.

"You're so cute, please never change."

You're almost scared it sounds condescending but the soft rosy color trudging up to the tips of Armin's ears says he doesn't agree.

You turn back to your mat with a smile but just before you sit on it you add, "And you never have to thank me for sex, I'd do it with you anytime."

He nods once as if responding to you and then twice as if he's confirming that you did indeed say what he heard. The soft plap of his mat on the floor reminding you of what you were both here for.

"Ok, let's begin then." You take a deep breath, adjusting the scrunchie holding your hair in place. "First we wanna stretch alright, so I just need you to reach up above your head with both hands and reposition your feet."

You demonstrate using yourself and Armin awkwardly copies. Slender fingers curling towards the sky as he slowly relaxes his shoulders. You can't help but let your mind wander a little as a glint of light flickers off the steel rings decorating three of his gorgeous digits.

You had fingered yourself last time the two of you were together and now you were craving him. Wondering what the warmth of just one of those inside you would feel like.

"Spread your legs more." You encourage, meanwhile it nearly has Armin doubling back. "Dirty boy." You tease

You stand in front of him gently kicking his legs apart. Easy enough. And he responds to every bit of your touch like he craved you too.

And well you wanna tell yourself that you had actually had completely innocent intentions when you'd invited Armin over here today. He genuinely had never done Yoga before and you knew Sasha was gonna be here. So yeah, you'd love to say you wanted nothing but to relax Armin in this encounter.

But you couldn't even keep a straight face while thinking it.

"Can you bend your knees a little?" He squats, carefully coming back up. Arms reaching out on both sides as you coaxed him. "A little lower sweetie." You say as his ass hovers inches over the mat.

And oh to be the mat.

You step back until you're completely back on your mat. "I'm sure your arms are tired, you can put them down now." You wave him off and he lets out a smooth exhale. "Feel relaxed yet?"

"A little." He replies with a confident smile.

"Then you're ready for the next part." You clap "I need you to bend over and touch your toes alright."

He shuts his eyes, pretty lips parting over your choice of words. What you wouldn’t give right at this second to be a mind reader. His back arches, ankles locking together as you demonstrated. "Good, good boy. Back straight." You sink your thumb into his black athletic shirt to touch his spine. And he hardens with your touch. "Don't be shy, it's just me." You mutter, breath heavy.

Fuck! Touching his back muscles this up close and personal made you wanna sink your nails into them. Leave lines up and down his soft supple skin as a mark that you'd always be his first. No one else would ever get that privilege.

"I-I.."

Shit.

"Ok, you can stand."

You pretend not to notice the way he shifts his sweats as he stands. This time you vow to actually stay on your mat.

"You should know this position." Your legs spread on one end of the mat while your hands came down to lay flat near the opposite end. "Try it."

Carefully he gets into the position you're currently doing but not without peaking at your figure. His blond hair dipping towards the mat and you can't help but smile at how cute he looks.

"Now we're gonna slowly curve our bodies down until our pelvis touches the floor." You say, head curving up toward the ceiling. For once Armin has immediate trouble, hips dangling weirdly over the ground. His arms trying and failing to steady himself.

"What's the matter? Wanna try a different position?"

"N-no it's nothing.."

You plop down on your mat, crossing your legs and gesturing for him to do the same and even without his reluctance you already know what's wrong. He slowly but surely rotates his hips, spreading his legs. His hardened dick print on full display.

You don't even try to hide the slow slither of your tongue wetting your lips. You quickly turn your head before crawling your way over to a very very flushed Armin. Sweat glistening perfectly over his pale skin.

"W-wait Sasha!" He panics, his arms flailing a bit as he backs up slightly.

"Shh it's ok, she definitely fell back asleep the second she went back in her room." You reply crawling towards him again.

"But you know I c-can't keep q-uiet. Wh-what if she h-hears!"

Your hands inched past his now loosened sweats to gently squeeze his hardened cock through his boxers. Both his hands flew to his mouth giving you a new gorgeous view of those pretty rings.

His eyes roll unfocused with every sweet glide of your hand. Tears already starting to brim along the edges of his warm eyes.

“Do you always wear those rings for physical activities or is it just for me?”

“I-I just forgot to take them off..”

“Did you?” You can tell your smile is shitty. Just from the way his eyes dart away from yours "You've never been blown either have you?" You ask getting back on topic.

"N-no." It's a muffled response but it hits your ears loud and clear.

"Another story for the growing journal then." You tease

You honestly can't help yourself. Lips curving and confining his tip like a vise. Precum salty where it stains your tongue. His gasp bouncing off the wall so elegantly. So fucking perfect. But even though Sasha is a heavy sleeper you were still worried she'd wake up before you finished.

So as much as you wanted to tease.

"Can I pull these down baby? I know your dick wants some relief."

He complies, oddly quickly. And you pull his sweats and boxers down just enough to hug the tops of his thighs.

And his dick is gorgeous. You hadn't actually seen it before but fuck was it pretty, standing tall and leaking before you.

You inch forward spit dribbling from your lips to be collected in the hand that was working his slender shaft. It had Armin's hips bucking up to greet you. His sweet whines egging you on.

And slowly but surely.... "Oh my fucking god."

It was an adjustment. Not as smooth as you would've liked because of the weird angle but you'd taken a little more than half of his dick in your mouth. A mildly painful fit made up for by the angelic cries of Armin just above you.

"Pl-please.. oh God please.."

He couldn't tell what he wanted to hold, hands shifting to the top of your head, the floor and his rolled up sweats all in less than a minute. You swore you could hear his heartbeat through his chest every time you swallowed his cock again.

You wanted to speed ahead so bad, see him just as flustered as he had been last week when he had his cock buried deep inside your pussy but it was obvious he wasn't going to last long either way.

Disorganized syllables flooding off his lips with the occasional whimper of "thank you" and "yes". His throat heavy with every curse word he knew stuck in it. Breaths quick and uneven as you coaxed him down your throat. Vibrations coursing past your lips to meet his already sensitive sex.

"I-i'm.. gonna cum.. mmm soooo close! Gonna cum!"

His choked breaths fell over your forehead and in the next second he was emptying every bit of his stress into your mouth. Eyes clouded like Armin wasn't even in there anymore. And you drained him of every drop, reaching between his legs to squeeze his balls.

When you pulled off of him he let out a deep exhale. Body still shaking as he looked at you.

"Thank you so much." He grinned hazily

"God, I wanna be as many of your firsts as possible." You breathe out a laugh.

☆☆The one where Eren walks in☆☆

It wasn't often you came back to the same guy. Every now and then you had one night stands and that's all it ended up being. You'd always been fine with that.

But Armin made you stay. His shaky fingers, nervous tongue and tear stained cheeks so oddly addictive. Intoxicating in how innocent he stayed despite having two sexual encounters with you.

And now here you both were having your third in his bed. Bodies melded together in the heat of both your sweat. Eyes fixated on only each other as his head tilted up like a hungry baby bird to pull you back in every time you fled.

And you indulged him as much as possible because fuck he was the cutest thing. Your hands gliding over his back and up to his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer. Spine curving deliciously when he grazed over your g-spot.

"Armin.. there." You breathed

Your free hand slid between your bodies making space for those slender fingers to work over your clit.

"Flick it." You encouraged, he immediately did as he was told earning a moan of approval.

"Good boy." You hum, lip trembling where it curves under your teeth.

The once soft pink of his face deepened with the compliment. A little smile decorating his gorgeous features. Just another thing to add to your growing folder of mental images.

"There honey.. keep going." You cooed over the little whimper fluttering off his lips as you hugged his cock. "You remember that spot right? The one that you hit when we were outside?"

"Yeah.. I think it was.." His hips remained delicate as he slid right into place. One leg up as he slotted his cock inside you. Heat pooled in the lowest depths of your stomach with the hesitant prodding of his tip to your g-spot. Eyes curving up to yours for further instruction.

"Mmhm that's it.. hit it a little harder ok."

It was all sorts of clumsy but he rammed your g-spot full force. An apology made its way to his throat but eye contact and the choked gasp that left your mouth soon proved it wasn't needed. You spread your legs a little further for him and he grabbed your waist smoothly working your hips over his dick.

"You're doing so well." You giggled taking a hold of his face. "And you're holding out much longer this time."

"Y-yeah but I'm almost there.." He sighed, fingers working at your clit a little faster. Right in time with the faster tempo of his hips.

"Fuck, you feel soooo good." He drawls

His lips parted, eyes flying north. You hugged him a little tighter as his chest pushed you up and down with each thrust. The once gentle drag of your nails now much rougher. As you let it slip just how much you were enjoying this.

Let your mouth fall open for the words circling your brain. Stomach heavy as Armin fucked you with intention. You brushed beads of sweat back from his face. His hair going up with it, clumping together atop his head.

"Mm gonna cum.." He moaned, head lolling with the intensity of his full body tremor.

"Hey Armin-"

"Eren!" Armin nearly shot up as Eren pushed the door open with zero warning.

Armin's free hand stayed on your clit completely stagnant. Tip twitching inside you, he didn't even have time to cover his mouth. Moans and whimpers pouring out from his still parted lips. Every bit of your fifteen minute effort now seen and heard by Eren who stood in the doorway with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey Eren.." You greeted, pulling your hand away from your upturned lips. Meanwhile Armin's face is buried deep in your shoulder blade. Where you already assumed he'd be staying for the next hour.

"Uh huh.." Eren replied, slamming the door shut. "Mikasa, he's busy let's go!" You heard him call as his boots clicked down the hall.

You don’t say a word till you hear the front door open and close, “You ok?”

“Any chance Eren didn’t hear that?..” He whispered

“Not in hell or on Earth love.”

‘Then no..”

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #snk smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin smut #armin x you #armin x y/n

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