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landitolover · 5 months

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𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒕, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓, in which lando and his fiancée joke about having kids (cats), but they randomly just drop an actual pregnancy announcement! ౨ৎ lando x mexican!fiancée!reader

Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 109,122 others

yourusername que feo

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user get this girl a kid for christmas!

→ landonorris 😉😉

→ user bitch WHAT

→ user plot twist he gives her an actual kid instead 🤷‍♀️

→ user OH NAAH..😭

user QUE PRECIOSA

user are u guys still trying for a baby

→ yourusername yes i rlly want a kitten for Christmas landonorris

→ landonorris yeah and i want a hippopotamus for christmas

→ user okkk xmas king ‼️‼️

user i love u queen 🙏🏼 and your lil white boy 🫶🏼

Liked by the creator

user jump-scare warning for the 1st pic yn

→ yourusername LMFAOO

→ landonorris babe you’re supposed to defend me

→ yourusername lo siento 😞

carlossainz55 por fin, un caption que es la verdad 😂

→ yourusername yo solo digo la verdad 😇

→ landonorris stop shit talking me guys!!!!

→ carlossainz55 pobrecito 😪

→ yourusername no, you THREW ME IN THE SNOW

landonorris SOOO HERMOSA 🤩

landonorris i don’t regret the last slide.

→ yourusername i see how it is.. calling off the marriage rn

→ landonorris BABY I WAS KIDDING I FELT REALLY BAD

→ user smh i’m already a child of divorce 😞

lilymhe 😍😍 become a runaway bride for me

→ yourusername ofc baby

Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and 220,029 others

yourusername when he hangs out with the opposition… he’s cute though, I guess?

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user the opps 😒😒😷😷

user WHERES RHE CAT CAFE LOCATED QUEEN

→ yourusername tiki’s cat cafe in mexico city x

user my babygirl perfect angel pink princess bubblegum honey sweetheart sunshine shmuckums

→ landonorris that’s actually what i call her every morning

→ alex_albon good morning baby

user shes so gorgeous I just died dead

yourmom que preciosa mija ❤️❤️

→ yourusername te amo mami !!

landonorris DIOSA 😍😍😍

→ yourusername okkk mexican king 🤩🤩 !!

landonorris mi chula novia 👰‍♀️

→ yourusername 💕

maxfewtrell no

→ yourusername who r u

→ maxfewtrell fuck off

→ landnorris erm actually 🤓 don’t talk to my fiancée like that

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and 1,290,192 others

landonorris we found a cat in our chair after we finished swimming, welcome to the family zanahoria 🥕 (this is her only Christmas present)

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user OMG 😊😊 THEY HAVE A KID!!

user she’s so pretty

user LANDO U ARE THE LUCKIEST MAN ALIVE.

→ landonorris i know 😌

user UGHHHH IM SOBBING

user real baby next xx

→ user NOO GET OUTT 😭😭

user katnapped ❓

lilymhe she looks absolutely beautiful! uhm- and you’re there..

yourusername MY ONLY PRESENT?? YOU KIDNAPPED THE CAT

→ landonorris it was stray

→ yourusername u right.. i still deserve christmas gifts

→ landonorris i’m broke

→ yourusername …….🌝

Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, mclaren, lilymhe, and 228,929 others

yourusername life update: back in my hometown, lando brought the helmet he quite literally dnfed in (🌝🌝), and my mom won’t stop showing him my baby pics. p.s. flo, can you please send me lando’s baby pics so he can stfu xx

December 21st, 2023

tagged landonorris

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user tbf the helmet is rlly nice

→ user his rep era 😢 gone too soon

user WAAAHHHH

user best couple ever idc

user she was such a cute baby 🥹

→ user imagine their kids 😭😭

landonorris flo please don’t send her my baby pics

→ yourusername too late baby xx

landonorris wow u are so cool!!!! i am your biggest fan 🤩🤩

→ yourusername I’M (getting) MARRIED!!!!!!😡😡😡

→ landonorris he doesn’t have to know…😉😉

alex_albon u look disappointed in the first pic

→ yourusername i am

Liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, mclaren, lnfour, and 1,239,290 others

landonorris she isn’t dead!!

january 4th, 2024

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user YN 😭😭😭 its been a year daddy

user i missed them so bad

user dont talk to me im sobbing

user SHES ALIVE!! AND HEALTHY!!!

yourusername 😇😇❤️❤️

alex_albon is your cat studious

→ landonorris duh, just like his dad 😉

→ alex_albon didn’t u like… not go to high school?

→ landonorris i can still be studious, mate!!!!

Liked by landonorris, mclaren, carlossainz55, yourmom, and 1,091,100 others

yourusername and it’s all just too much for little lando norris… surprise!! i am pregnant ❓(have been for like 3 months now)

tagged landonorris

march 1st, 2024

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user OH MY GOD. THEYRE HAVING A KID????

user i am hyperventilating shut up

user LMFAOO THE 2ND PIC

user what about us….. your og children ☹️☹️

→ yourusername don’t worry 💕 you guys are the og!!!

user whats it finna play.. WOAAAHHH

user im throwing up i. Jsut fell on the floor

landonorris te amo mucho mi vida ☀️🤍🫶🏼

→ yourusername i love you more 🫶🏼🧡

lilymhe CONGRATS BABY 🎉🎉

→ yourusername thank you 💙💙💙

carlossainz55 i guess he isn’t so little after all? 😂

→ yourusername LMFAO CARLOS 😭😭

oscarpiastri is he crying over your cravings? cause they’re horrendous

→ landonorris yeah i am, but anything for my girl

→ yourusername STOP 🥹🥹

→ oscarpiastri ew don’t get all corny on me

yourmom por fin!!!

Liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, lnfour, and 1,678,919 others

landonorris daddy norris 🔜

tagged yourusername

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user THE CAPTION? 💀

user i am so unbelievably happy for them

user mama y papa 💞💞💞

user who CHEERED

user omg she can’t have sushi until after the baby 😭😭

→ landonorris good.

user so i guess they were trying for an actual baby 😃

maxfewtrell mate get out with that caption

→ landonorris make me

→ maxfewtrell woah, you’re a soon-to-be-married man

→ landonorris 😐😐

yourusername 🔜

mclaren congratulations you two 🧡

→ landonorris thank you 🧡 (give me a life time contract??)

→ yourusername 🤍🤍

danielricciardo let me be the godfather (congrats mate 😁)

→ landonorris yourusername opinions?

→ yourusername uhmmmmmm

→ carlossainz55 let ME be the godfather

→ yourusername no güey

→ oscarpiastri pick me, choose me

→ yourusername 🐨🐨🐨

lnfour the soon to be better norris-l/n 💚

→ yourusername agreed

౨ৎ hi guyyysss 🤍🤍 sorry for not posting, i just didn’t have any motivation :,) but hopefully my motivation will come back though xx also i will prolly start writing part two of ‘say don’t go’ 🫶🏼

#𓇼 landitolover #꩜ my writings #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #female reader #smau #latina reader #mexican reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #carlos sainz #oscar piastri

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simpforboys · 1 year

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meeting the master

neteyam sully x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: when neteyam gets invited to one of your famous parties, he’s not too sure why. he knows of you, but doesn’t know you. you change that.

warnings: fluff, neteyam checking you out, you checking him out

aged up characters ofc, not proof read

this is high key based off the great gatsby fyi🤞

“neteyam! you have to come to y/n’s party tonight!” mukata exclaimed.

he was one of the boys neteyam and his brother quickly befriended in awa’atlu.

neteyam’s ears twitched at your name.

everyone always raved about your parties, how charming and beautiful you were. but neteyam had never seen you.

the more and more he heard about you, the more it intrigued him. how can someone be so great to a whole clan?

that night, deep into the ocean on an island, neteyam disconnected his queue to the ilu. his feet hit the cold sand as he pushed his braids out of his face.

loud cultural music consumed his upturned ears as they twitched from the noise. there were easily over three hundred clan members on the island.

neteyam suddenly felt very insecure. he was the only omatikaya- standing alone- in the middle of a crowded party.

“neteyam!” mukata ushered the man over. neteyam silently thanked eywa for not making him stand alone any longer.

“isn’t this great? one of y/n’s best!” mukata commented, his almond eyes blinking quickly.

“very… lavish.”

throughout the night, neteyam sipped on a specialty drink that was made specifically for that night.

he began to wonder where you actually were. really, he just didn’t know what you looked like.

some metkayina girls approached neteyam, batting their eyelashes and flirting with him.

“have you met y/n yet?” leyra asked.

“i have not.”

“she is like royalty. if tsireya wasn’t the chief’s daughter, everyone would believe y/n is.”

“i’ve heard that she has eaten people.” eyrina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

neteyam’s brow bone raised as his ears twitched.

“don’t be ridiculous-“ leyra gently slapped her friend.

“i believe my friend is calling me,” neteyam dismissed himself. he needed fresh air- the party atmosphere was extremely overwhelming.

he pushed through some brush and found a woman. long curly hair cascaded down her back in a V shape, a fancy loincloth that had shells and pearls decorated on the waist. it hung low on her hips and jewelry filled her finned-arms.

“hello?” he asked softly.

you turned around to hear the voice that startled you. a tall man with broad shoulders and- it was one of the sullys.

the sully family had arrived in awa’atlu a few weeks prior. you blinked your eyes at him, your second eyelid showing as it took a second to disappear.

“hi.”

“getting some air?” he questioned you, joining you to stand by the ocean.

“yes, same with you?” you asked.

“yes ma’am, i needed a break from the crowd.”

you were beyond gorgeous. a flower was tucked behind your ear, purposely balanced on the flesh. you had big, doe eyes that sparkled in the moonlight.

it quickly made neteyam flustered.

his freckles were illuminated under the moon as you stared at him, the white dots seeming placed from eywa in a particular manner.

he was a very handsome man, with almost eight inches of height between your heads.

“i understand. who invited you?” you asked him, your voice gentle as you gazed down at his veiny hands.

“mukata, he said this would be y/n’s biggest party yet. although, i still haven’t met her. and really, i’ve heard so much about her yet i’m surprised she didn’t have a grand entrance to the party introducing herself.”

neteyam felt himself ramble, his eyes finally going to meet your face. you had a blank expression, one he couldn’t read.

“i guess i haven’t been a good host then,” you shrugged.

“what?” neteyam asked, his heart dropping.

you laughed at the man.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you…”

“neteyam.”

“nice to meet you, neteyam.”

“ngaytxoa (my apologies), y/n, i didn’t know-“

“it’s okay, neteyam.”

you reassurance only made him feel a little better, however the overwhelming guilt was larger.

“no really, i-“

“neteyam, it is fine.” you placed your hand on his bicep, the muscle flexing under your touch. neteyam suddenly realized he was extremely touched starved and craved more of it.

a crimson pink made its way onto his cheeks as he looked out onto the ocean.

“do you want to know a secret?” you whispered, lifting yourself on the tips of your toes to reach his ear.

he softly purred, making your heart stammer.

“i do not really care for parties.”

neteyam turned to look at you, a confused look on his face.

“then why do you throw them?”

you shrugged at the man.

“if i don’t, then this island will remain boring forever.”

neteyam’s ears faltered as you turned to look out at the sea.

“i love the ocean and my home, but sometimes i need change.”

“like a forest?”

you looked back at neteyam to see him giving you a small smile. you grinned back.

“perhaps a forest.”

you and neteyam spent all night talking about your homes, the reason him and his family came to awa’atlu, and many other things.

the sunrise was quickly coming as you rubbed your eyes.

neteyam was laying on the sand next to you as you hugged your knees to your chest, continuing to babble on and on about your lives.

and while you two talked for hours, there was never an awkward moment. everything just felt right.

“i guess we should head back to the main land.” you suggested, seeing the fisherman off in the distance.

neteyam agreed, standing up. he offered you his hand, an electric shock going through both of you as your finned hand connected with his.

he was much stronger than you, his back filled with muscles. and sand.

“neteyam, you have sand on your back.”

without waiting for him to answer, you stepped behind him and ran your hands over his deep blue skin. the stripped patterns looked beautiful as you were mesmerized by his back.

neteyam accidentally let out a loud purr as you grazed against skin, making both of you blush.

“feel nice?” you teased, finally removing your hands from his skin (much to neteyam’s dismay).

the sunrise was dotting on your teal skin, illuminating your features as you stared up at neteyam.

in the beginning of his stay, he had yet to realize why you were so important, why everyone was obsessed with you.

but when he sat and talked with you, he soon found himself realizing just exactly why everyone adored you.

you were thoughtful, intelligent, cared for your people, funny, witty, and many other things he could not put into words.

and he began to think to himself if he could imagine being with anyone else, despite just having met you.

but when eywa calls, neteyam answers. and right now, he can hear a ringing in his ears.

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moumouton4 · 5 months

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Dom Muichiro (Aged up) x Sub fem reader, I'm rewriting it to make it clearer. So she ends up flirting with other Slayers and ends up getting a 'punishment' where Muichiro won't let her cum until she learns her lesson? She whimpers and complains but he is simply cold and still won't let her cum until he realizes that she has really learned her lesson. (again I hope you don't feel uncomfortable as I'm very paranoiac)

Have Your Learned Your Lesson ? || Muichiro Tokito x fem!reader

Part 2 : Have Your Learned Your Lesson ?

A/n : Heyyy sweetie I can assure you it's fineeee ! Also since the "first" part of this seems very close to the one I've already written there ( That Day He Got Jealous Of One Of Your Student ) let's say this is the 2nd part of it

Part 1 : That Day He Got Jealous Of One Of Your Student ✨

Warnings : Muichiro is aged up ofc, dom Muichiro, edging, use of slut twice ( I don't unsually do this but it felt somehow right ), pussy slapping, jealousy, fingering, oral fem!receiver, overstimulation, bredding kink if you squint, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 742

Well you thought you were getting back at him, because as soon as your hand made contact with his bulge he swatted your hand away “No touching ! Unless you want me to tie you up” he said somehow dangerously, sending chills down your spine. Truth be told you wouldn’t have minded him tying you up but right now you wanted to tease him too.

Seeing the glint in your eyes, he figured that you weren’t going to be a good obedient slut girl today. Gripping both your hands, in his, by the wrists, he tugged you to your shared room. His eyes looked all around trying to spot the ribbon he used to tie you with. An evil smirk spread on his lips when he finally found it. And before you knew it he was already rolling it around your wrists, your hands safely placed behind your back.

Soon after he stripped you from your panties, that he slided from your legs. His fingers soon replaced the silky fabric, circling and rubbing your most delicate spots. From your inner thighs to your wet, needy core. His skilled fingers started to inch closer to your quivering hole, before giving in and beginning a slow and teasing fingering motion.

Seeing you starting to squirming he brought his face closer to your ear, whispering lowly “I can feel you tightening around my fingers. Are you going to cum for me so soon ?” again the smirk in his voice was palpable.

Speeding the movements of his fingers he mused “Come on, cum for me Y/n. I can feel you’re close, come one”

You moaned even louder “M-muichiro I’m-”

“Ah ah ah” he spoke nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just deprive you from a climax ( please don’t read this as a laugh 💀 ) “You were close, weren’t you ? I could feel you milking my fingers. So needy” he scoffed, before slapping your pussy.

You yelped, making his devilish smirk grow on his face “What ? You didn’t think I was going to let such a bad girl come after what she did today ?”

“M-Mui- mmmh” your plea was stopped by his fingers who restarted moving in your soaking cunt, squelching sounds filling the room as he continued torturing you.

He kept this little game going for about 30 minutes. Fingering and then rubbing your clit with his now pruned fingers, halting each time you were on the verge of cumming.

Your breath was shallow as you muttered “P-p-please… l-l-let m-me fin-finish… ngh” you whimpered, barely managing to get the words out. You thought that tying you up was your punishment, that he was preparing you to receive him, but no he had decided to edge you instead.

From between your legs, his face glistening with your essence - because yes after a while fingering you he decided it wasn’t enough torture for your to learn your lesson - “Please ?” he chuckled darkly, his tongue flicking your clit once more “If you’re so desperate to finish you can still leave and try your luck with him” he spat “I bet you wouldn’t mind, you slut”

Somehow the harsh words had you throbbing inside, fuck he really know what he was doing. You shook your head trying to get him to understand that you wanted him, only him “N-no ! M-muichiro… mpf I-I want… y-you”

The brat, he didn’t even let you get your words out in peace “Say it again” he demanded through gritted teeth, of course he didn’t stop his oral assaults.

“I-I want you… ah- on-only you” at this you could feel his lips curving upwards in some kind of smile.

“Only me ?” he repeated, your words had just boosted his ego.

“I-l love you Muichiro p-please” you begged.

“Fine” he relented, you had learned your lesson this time, he was sure about it… also the sheets were drenched, as in the hurry he forgot to put some towels to cover. His face inched once more closer to your core, and this time he didn’t lose any time to plunge his tongue inside your tight heat, making your hands struggle behind your back, you wanted to hold his hair so bad.

He seemed to feel it so, with a swift movement he untied them. since you had understood your lesson you were going to be rewarded like a good girl now. First with a long awaited orgasm, and then with a hot load of his cum in your stomach.

#demon slayer #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba imagine #kimetsu no yaiba smut #muichiro tokito #muichiro tokito imagine #muichiro tokito x reader #muichiro tokito smut #muichiro x reader #muichiro smut #kny muichiro #kny muichiro x reader #kny muichiro smut #request #smut #miri-writes

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milksnake-tea · 1 year

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━━ homecoming.

He was always your favorite, ever since the day you'd found him. But you knew you couldn't keep him forever. One day, he would have to leave.

merman!blade x gn!reader

contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, a smudge of angst, blade is a little shit, reader is a scientist, potentially ooc blade, a hint of abandonment issues, making out (but nothing suggestive), not edited we die like jing liu, written before version 1.1

word count: 1.7k

a/n: posting this on the last day of mermay because ofc i am (im pst so shhh its not june yet). anyways merman blade is the most genius thing i have ever thought of no one will convince me otherwise

Your research facility was unlike any other in the world.

The hallways were enshrouded in darkness, with the only light sources being the illuminated tanks that lined the walls. They varied in size and shape, some cylindrical, others rectangular. Some tanks were lucky enough to have entire biomes in them, ranging from gorgeous coral reefs to murky kelp forests, and some had nothing in them at all. But what every tank had in common was an eerie glow of cyan that pulsated throughout their waters.

As you walked past the exhibits - your footsteps echoing loudly throughout the empty halls - your specimen began to unravel to life.

Electric eels sparked with lightning as you passed, and beside them, gigantic sea serpents hissed and coiled. Grindylows peeked from behind their forests, and jellyfish of all forms drifted aimlessly through their tanks. An eye the size of a soccer ball watched you from the largest exhibit of all, the giant squid thrilled to see its master.

This institute was home to mythology and biology alike, where fables rested alongside common knowledge. Here, in the middle of nowhere, with no land in sight, you were in the eye of the storm - vulnerable to the truths behind old sailors’ tales.

Despite this, you loved your job more than anything. These creatures that you studied, that you nurtured and raised, were like your children. Even the various hippocampi (who you didn’t have the heart to keep within your walls), were dear to you, and you to them.

Yes, there was the occasional sea monster that you had to shoot down. Yes, there were the occasional sirens who would try to lure you to your death. Most of the ocean’s creatures were dangerous, and well aware of it. Unfortunately, you were too smart and too stubborn to die.

A sharp tap on glass snapped you out of your thoughts. Smiling knowingly to yourself, you walked up to a cylindrical glass tank that spanned two stories tall, encircled by spiraling stairs.

“Hey, Blade. Missed me?” You greeted, placing a hand on the glass.

Out of all of the creatures that you held within your home, he was your favorite.

He really was a beauty. Gifted with a slender black tail, seared with a vicious red, the merman swayed gently in his tank, sleek, almost sharp fins flowing around him. Blackened scales gave way to fair skin, scarred with scratches and bites from previous battles. His hair billowed around him like a dark cloud, fading from black to a soft maroon.

You'd found Blade a few weeks ago, bleeding out in the coral reefs surrounding your little island of a facility. He’d likely gotten into a fight with other merpeople, as the more territorial ones tended to do. Even now, the wounds hadn’t completely healed, with bandages still wrapped around his abdomen.

Blade’s ever-cold face barely budged at your greeting. The second your hand met his tank, he backed away, swimming up towards the top of his tank - naturally expecting you to follow. You sighed, shaking your head knowingly.

By the time you had climbed the staircase to the top, Blade was already lounging on the stairs leading into his waters. His wet hair clung to his body as he watched you expectantly, his tail flicking small waves into motion. Sunlight cascaded over him from a glass ceiling, bathing him in a gentle light.

“You’re late.” His eyes never left your body as you neared him, eyeing you like a hungry predator.

You dropped your bag off some counter lining the walls. “I was dealing with the new shipments.”

“Oh? Am I finally getting some company?” Blade asked sarcastically, stretching like a cat in the warm sun. You don’t think it was an accident that he rolled over, shamelessly showing off his sculpted abdomen.

“Like I could just order a merman off the web,” you scoffed, sitting next to him and dipping your legs into the tank. “You’re just a special case.”

He didn’t respond to that, merely watches you with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint. Knowing him, it could be anything from warm affection to a mischievous desire to inconvenience you by the slightest amount. He was petty like that.

Briefly, his tail came to brush against your legs. You giggled at the action, the thin fins ticklish against your skin. A flicker of a smile flashed across Blade’s face, gone just as fast as it had appeared.

“How are your wounds?” you asked, your hand absentmindedly coming to pet his head. Where Blade would have bitten anyone else, the merman keened at the touch, closing his eyes briefly.

“Better.” His voice was barely above a whisper as you threaded your fingers through his wet hair.

“That’s good. No pain?”

“None,” he answered. As you removed your hand, for a moment, he chased it, before he met your teasing eyes and remembered himself. Coughing, he quickly turned away, refusing to meet your amused gaze.

“At this rate, you’ll be leaving sooner than expected,” you hummed. Blade’s eyes widened at your words, an unfamiliar pang hitting his chest. “I’m sure you’ve been missing your friends.”

Blade scoffed at the notion, rolling back onto his chest to stare at the floor. “Hardly.”

“Well,” you shrugged, kicking up some water. “At the very least, you’d miss the open waters.”

That, he couldn’t deny. But even still, the thought of finally leaving the facility had become foreign to him. Three weeks prior, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to get out of this place, this tank. But now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Hey, chin up.” Your hand cupped his cheek, bringing him to look up at you. “It’s not like you’ll never see me again. You can always visit.”

He doubted that. Out in the ocean, he had little free time to himself. He would spend his days constantly on the run from various mermaid kingdoms and tribes, and if not that, he’d be hunting, searching for his next meal. He journeyed the seas without end. Blade was a vagrant, a wanderer without a home.

But here, perhaps…

His body moved without thinking. Pushing himself up onto his arms, he leaned over you, water droplets falling onto your shirt as he caged you between his arms. His gaze had become hazy, his eyes lidded. His breath shuddered in his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, drinking in as much of you as he could.

Blade didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. You heard his words loud and clear, without him needing to say a word.

Stay.

It was unclear who he was talking to, whether it be you or himself. There was a subtle desperation in the way his chest heaved as he breathed, breathless without a thief.

Your arms, your welcoming arms, wrapped around his shoulders like a warm blanket, bringing him in for an embrace. Immediately, he latched onto the opportunity, gripping onto you as though you’d disappear if he dared loosen his grip. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, forever engraving it into his memory.

If only he was human, he’d lament. If only he could walk the lands like you did. If only the two of you weren’t separated by land and sea. If only - his grip became just a little tighter - he could stay like this a little longer.

You stroke the back of his head gently, feeling Blade shiver at your touch. He wasn’t crying - you didn’t know if he even remembered how.

Deep inside, you wanted him to stay. You didn’t want to let him go. It was an ugly, selfish part of you that wanted to keep him for yourself. But you knew you couldn't keep him here. He had to return to the ocean, where he belonged.

He pulled away from you, yet still held onto your arms like a lifeline. You never thought you’d describe the stoic merman as desperate, but there was no other word that could properly depict the emotion swirling in his eyes.

Your hands came to cradle his face gently, unable to say a word. Blade’s breath hitched.

His lips barely parted as he spoke, his voice raspy and low.

“Forgive me.”

That was the only warning you got before he crashed his lips into yours.

His kiss was unlike any other you’ve had. Whereas your previous experiences were tender and romantic, this was hungry, raw, depraved. Blade kissed you with the fervor of a starving man, as though you would be his final meal. He was aggressive with his affections, practically clawing onto your shirt as he clutched you closer to him.

Your heart raced in your chest as you met his violent dance, parting your lips for a moment to allow him to slip in his tongue. You welcomed him in, firmly holding his face. Emotions swirled in you like the blurred voices of a crowd, overwhelming and satiating you at the same time.

To say that you were surprised by his actions would be a lie. You’ve known his feelings for a while now, and had plenty of time to accept yours. It was obvious, in the gentlest touches, in the way he could make you smile just by being around you.

You’ve avoided acknowledging these feelings for the longest time, and so did he.

When the two of you finally parted, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, the only thing you could do was watch. You studied Blade’s face, clearly now, for the first time. Your fingers traced around his jawline, admiring how his cheeks had become dyed with a pretty red. You swiped over his parted lips, still catching his breath from the kiss. Your thumb rubbed just underneath his eyes, brushing away the loose strands of hair from his face.

You’ve always known he was a beauty, but in this moment, he simply took your breath away.

Blade covered your hand in his, nuzzling into your palm. He softly pressed his lips to your inner wrist, a stark contrast from the kiss he’d just ravaged you with. He kept his eyes solely on you as he did this, trapping your gaze with his stare.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Huh?” You blinked, trying to snap yourself out of your daze. Blade smirked against your palm, swiping out his tongue and dragging it against your skin.

“Come, now,” he mused. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail blade #hsr blade #honkai star rail blade x reader #blade x reader #hsr blade x reader #x reader #y/n #reader #reader insert #oneshot #mermay #archives 🏵️

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ecoamerica · 2 months

Text

youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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mailjeevasfan · 1 year

Note

hii! Can you do death note cast with a fem s/o who is very pretty, nice and rich pls? Like those pretty girls with Dior and Channel

ofc!

-death note x fem!reader

-light, l lawliet, misa amane, mello, matt, near, matsuda

༺♡༻

dn characters with a sweet gf who loves designers ❦

light

-he’d probably look good with a gf like this

-light is eager to make his public image look good, and having a presentable and wealthy girlfriend is definitely going to help with that.

-it feels strange to say but bro has a stressful life lmao so you being super sweet and nice all the time is going to be good for him. even if he doesn’t appreciate it on the outside very often, he really does.

༺♡༻

l lawliet

-i don’t think he would care too much for designer clothes and stuff like that. i mean, have you seen him

-however he appreciates that it is important to you. he knows that it’s the kind of thing you’re interested in, and slowly begins to compliment you when you have a new top or expensive perfume on etc (i’d like to believe you do this to get him to notice). i can also see him buying you gifts he knows you’d like, the crazy ass skyscraper he built proves he has the money (i’m still confused about that. aizawa had the realest perspective)

-i also think he’d find your personality cute. as much as he’d like to believe he’s great at staying on track with his work, even with you around, he can’t resist how sweet you are sometimes.

༺♡༻

misa amane

-would LOOOVE this!! she’d absolutely adore having a gf who appreciates high end fashion the way she does.

-even if your styles differ at times, you still both have a great eye for this sort of thing. you love to borrow each others clothes and go shopping together and stuff.

-i think misa with another very nice and wealthy girl would go down well tbh. you both being so sweet would work well and you’d be very close, especially due to your common interests.

༺♡༻

mello

-he’s a pretty stylish guy let’s be real. even if he doesn’t get it the way you do, with the specific designers you like, he still appreciates your love for that kind of thing.

-he’d never say it, but he finds your style very cute. i think he’d also buy you gifts that you’d really like. if he saw you in something he bought for you, he’d be so so happy

-your personality contrasts his well. he learns that he needs to be less aggressive and crazy all the time LMAO. in return, he teaches you to be more blunt sometimes. he totally teases you for being kinda preppy and for ur niceness from time to time. IN AN ENDEARING WAY THO

༺♡༻

matt

-kind of similar to l, except he can understand the want to be more fashionable. i mean he has drip bffr

-but seriously he gets it, but probably isn’t all that interested. he likes to see you happy when you’re in your favourite clothes, it makes him happy to see it. he probably doesn’t care about wealthiness, he just loves you because of who you are

-however, like mello, he also probably teases you for being kind of preppy and also being super sweet and nice.

༺♡༻

near

-this sounds so weird and stupid but i feel like near would appreciate the craftsmanship and detail orientation of the clothing? LMAO IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN he’s obviously not interested in fashion one bit but that’s kind of his way of trying to understand your love for it. it’s just how his brain sees it

-he would also buy you new clothes and stuff because it’s an easier way for him to show affection

-he really likes your personality too. he’s a pretty cold guy most of the time so you manage to warm him up a little ig

༺♡༻

matsuda

-aw i think he’d be so cute. i think matsuda is another person who genuinely gets your love of expensive clothes and materialistic things. he strikes me as a guy who would love love love to own a very expensive watch (you buy him one for his birthday. he cries)

-he’s the sweetest man alive so he’s probably the best match for a person like this on the list imo

-you guys are the cutest little couple. misa especially would find you guys absolutely adorable

༺♡༻

#death note #mail jeevas #mello #mihael keehl #l lawliet #light yagami #matt #misa amane #death note x reader #near #nate river #mail jeevas x reader #misa amane x reader #near x reader #mello x reader #light x reader #l lawliet x reader #matsuda touta x reader #matsuda touta

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whatsnewalycat · 4 months

Text

Psychomanteum / Chapter 17

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 17: I'll Be Your Mirror

Chapter Summary: Fin.

Word Count: 6.0k+

Content / Warnings: listen if you made it this far you know what it is

Notes: Chapter title from “I'll Be Your Mirror" by Nico and The Velvet Underground. Ok I know I said there would be an Epilogue, but I decided... I really love it as is. This story is my baby and the feeling of finishing it is so bittersweet. Thank you to everyone who has ever given me the encouragement to feel this story is special. There are so many of you, I don't even know where to start. You know who you are.

[ Previous Chapter ] [ Series Masterlist ]

“Dee?”

He looks up from the notebook in his hand and goes still.

To say that your heart skips a beat when he meets your gaze is an understatement.

It freezes, along with everything else in the universe. You can’t move. You can’t breathe. You’re almost certain the Earth stops turning.

Is he angry? Relieved? Shocked?

You can’t tell.

But then his tensed muscles go slack. His hunched shoulders drop from his ears. Glossy, pained eyes melting wide into wonderment.

“Lua?”

Hearing your name on his lips makes your stomach flip into free fall. Your pulse jumps. A sound escapes your chest that’s halfway between a sob and a laugh.

He drops the notebook and strides towards you.

You can only take one step forward before he’s pushing your back to the door, lips pressed against yours. His hands slip around your waist and pull your body flush to his while you comb your fingers through his hair. He groans into your mouth, tongue rolling soft on yours as you whine at how fucking perfect it feels.

Unzipping your jacket, Dieter pulls back and rasps hot against your cheek, “I’m so glad you’re ok, I thought I fucking lost you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, pressing your foreheads together as he strips off your jacket, “It was stupid, I shouldn’t have left like that—”

“Later,” he murmurs, shrugging off his fuzzy coat, then brings his mouth to your pulse and sucks the thin skin so hard you gasp, gripping his broad shoulders to bring him closer.

His hands slip under your shirt—his shirt, actually, you stole it from a laundry basket before leaving his house—and he slides his heated palms against your bare skin. With a chuckle, he looks down at the garment and says, “You little thief.”

You bite your lip and shrug, flicking your eyes around his face.

“God, I missed you,” he grins, dimples and all.

“I missed you, too.”

Both your faces fade from amusement to something heavier as you study each other. Heat flickers at the middle of you when he brushes the back of his hand against your cheek. Your gaze dips to his mouth when he murmurs, “Don’t you dare leave me again.”

“I won’t—”

“Please.”

“I promise I won’t.”

You meet his eyes so he can see how much you mean it, stroking the soft whiskers on his jawline with your thumb, “I love you, Dieter. I love you so fucking much.”

His warm gaze flicks all over your face, “I love you, too.”

Your throat thickens. You try to swallow down the discomfort before asking, “Are you mad?”

“Mad?”

You nod.

“No,” he scoffs, gently taking your hand to kiss each of your fingertips.

It’s reverent, the way he does this. Worshipful. Like he’s thanking every piece of you for existing.

He clears his throat. Pain creases his forehead, making his dark eyes go all gooey soft when he whispers, “I was so scared. I didn’t know if I’d find you dead or alive.”

It hits you hard. Right in the heart.

You let out a guilty squeak. Your face crumbles. Tears cloud your vision, distorting him. You draw a shattered breath before responding.

“I was going to do it. I was going to, umm,” you avert your eyes and shake your head, “I was gonna drown myself, Dee. I had everything ready, but… I couldn’t.”

A sob bursts from your belly.

His body tenses and he pulls back ever so slightly, as if he were seconds away from calling off the conversation. But you stay firmly planted. You link your hands behind his neck and meet his tear-brimmed eyes with your own. When you speak, your voice trembles with honesty.

“I thought that I was supposed to die. That my being here was a mistake, or like I was cursed or something. Destined to destroy your life if I stayed in it. I didn’t want to do that to you. But also,” you swallow hard and search his face, “I didn’t know if I could trust you not to break me like he did. I didn’t know if I could trust myself not to break you, either. I was so afraid… of everything. Of all the possibilities. Of not knowing what would happen.”

The way he looks at you—shoulders slumped, jaw set, eyes all dewy with sorrow—it’s fucking torture. But you continue.

“I was so afraid of everything… except dying. Dying felt like the best option.”

Dieter sobs. It crushes your ribcage to dust. You have to keep going, though. You need him to understand that you mean this.

“But I realized—just now, before you got here, like,” you laugh with bemusement and shake your head, “Immediately before you got here, your timing is truly blowing my fucking mind right now—”

He chuckles and wipes at his damp face. You smile, tilting your head at him.

“I realized that… I was being a fucking coward. You’re not Ethan and I’m not Anika, and you and I… we’re something different. Dee, our love feels big the way the universe feels big. It’s never-ending and always growing and it is fucking forever. To turn my back on something like that would be… well, it would be fucking blasphemy.”

He smiles back at you, grip digging into your waist to bring you closer.

You cup his cheeks and tell him, “There will be good days and bad, but I know that I will never regret choosing to stay.”

He stares at you with so much love and awe your chest aches. You can’t stop yourself from beaming at him.

“No matter what the future has in store for us, I know that it will be worth spending every second I can with you in this beautiful, painful, amazing life.”

His smile widens and he shakes his head, choking out, “Fuck, how do I follow that up?”

You laugh, this soggy, wet laugh and bury your face in his shirt, then mumble against his chest, “You don’t have to, love, I just needed to tell you.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you.

“For what?”

“For staying. For sharing with me, trusting in me—trusting in us. Without you… I don’t know. Everything is fucking stupid and meaningless. You make me a better me. And I need you. So. Thank you.”

Your heart swells.

“You make me a better me, too.”

He pulls back to look at you, the warmth of his gaze sticking all over your face. Heat glints behind his eyes when they drop to your mouth.

Something profound throbs between you. Newborn with shaky legs, taking its first breath. Intentional, fearless certainty.

You kiss him, hard and purposeful, and he responds with fervor, the tips of his fingers digging into the tender skin of your waist. His tongue slides soft and wet and hot against yours, a slick writhing that hypnotizes you. Between the gentle crush of lips and nips from teeth and quiet whimpers that echo back and forth, you get lost in him.

Time and space slip away and this kiss becomes the only thing you long to feel.

Dieter pushes your back flush to the cool door, warm hands exploring the tender skin beneath your shirt. His shirt. His skin.

His his his—

He cups your breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The tedious touch sends a rush of need through your body. Whining into his mouth, you slide your nails down the expanse of his back, beckoning him closer, wordlessly begging for more.

Of course, he gives it to you.

Of course he pinches your nipples so hard you gasp, then tugs even harder.

Of course he activates something primal deep within your brain, making you hiss, “Fuck yes.”

“Does that feel good, baby? Hmm?”

“Yes—”

“Good,” he husks.

One hand unclamps. It slips under the waistband of your pants and slides down between your thighs, down to the hot, slick middle of you, where it rubs all those attention-starved nerves and makes them fucking purr.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Mmmm, how about that?”

“So fucking good, Dee,” you moan, nodding your head in vehement approval as you arch your hips towards him, “Oh my god, yes.”

Pulsing heat creeps up your spine, making your mouth go slack and lids drift closed.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open to meet his. He searches your face with intensity, watching you twist up with pleasure, and drops his gaze to your lips when your panting becomes tainted with whimpers.

“You’re so fucking hot I can’t stand it,” he mutters, shaking his head, “God, I wanna fuck you.”

“Oh my god, please—”

“You want me to fuck you?” He releases his tight grip on your tit to stroke your cheek, his low voice almost a growl, “Hmm? Want me to fill your tight pussy?”

“Yes—”

“Yeah?”

“Yes yes yes please, I wanna feel your cock inside me, Dieter I fucking need it please—”

“I want you to come for me first,” he works you faster, pressing his forehead against yours as he coos, “Can you do that for me, baby? Come all over my fucking hand?”

His request gushes hot down your spine. You gasp and nod frantically, then choke out a throaty moan as heat starts to branch out inside you. Your heart pounds hard and fast in your chest, white-hot need overflowing your veins and pooling thick between your legs, pulsing and growing, stronger, wider, pushing you up up up up—

It overtakes you. Rips you into a million pieces and puts you back together again.

Your legs clamp shut. You twitch and whimper and gasp as his touch softens and slows.

It doesn’t stop entirely, though.

Just a gentle, languid back and forth that persists through ebbing aftershocks, assuring you he’s not done with you yet.

Dieter rests his forehead against yours, breath warm on your parted lips when he says, “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

You let out a dreamy chuckle, hooking your hands behind his neck.

And, fuck, his fingers feel so good. Sliding up and down, spreading your slick in a gentle manner, teasing but patient. So fucking patient.

“I mean it. You are… amazing. I love every single thing about you.”

He dips a thick fingertip in your entrance, sending a heady rush of need through your body, then drags it out to draw slow circles around your clit. His touch prods the glowing embers in your belly. They smolder beneath your skin and make your heart race.

“Oh my god, Dee—”

“Even the parts you don’t think I want. I want it all, Lua. Forever. I never want to wake up without you by my side again.”

“I’m yours,” you breathe, “Forever and ever until I’m nothing, Dee, I’m fucking yours—”

His lips crush into yours. You moan into his mouth, accepting the warm caress of his tongue, urgent against yours. Between your thighs, he rocks his hand against you hard, then slips a digit inside you.

Head rolling back onto your shoulders, you gasp, “Jesus fuck.”

“So fucking ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he laughs, delirious and breathy, then takes a step back, removing himself from your body completely.

The loss sends you reeling. Like a puppy, you glob onto him, not wanting to part from him for a second.

Regarding your desperation with a smirk, he takes your hand, “Come on.”

You follow along behind him, grinning at the way he carries himself with authority, striding through the cabin like this has been his residence for the past few days, not yours.

When you cross the threshold into a bedroom, he turns to ask, “This one ok?”

Nodding, you push him back towards the bed and tug at his clothes, a silent plea he quickly grants. You mirror his actions, stripping down to nothing as he sits down on the edge of the bed and stares up at you, all fuck-me-eyes and parted lips.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you coo, slotting yourself between his knees, combing your nails through his hair, “Looking up at me with those puppy dog eyes. I love it.”

His eyelids flutter and his cock twitches. A little bead of pre-cum sprouts up at the tip.

You lick your lips and smirk, wrapping your hand around his girth, gasping when you smear the swollen droplet with the pad of your thumb.

Dieter groans, grabbing your waist. He twitches again.

You pull back his foreskin, forming an ‘o’ with your mouth when more of the viscous liquid slips against your thumb.

You think about how it might taste, salty and hot on your tongue. You think about his hard, smooth length stretching out your lips, soaking wet with drool as he fucks your face.

“If you keep looking at it like that I’m gonna blow my fucking load,” he mutters, burying his face between your breasts.

When you respond by churning your grip, a moan vibrates against your sternum. As if he can’t help himself, Dieter slides his hands up your body and grabs your tits.

He takes one in his mouth, then the other, sucking and licking and biting your swollen nipples while you work him, slow and meticulous. His muffled whines stoke your desire, flames hot and tingling up your spine.

Looking up at you with big doe eyes, he flattens his tongue against your nipple, then moves his head from side-to-side.

“That feels fucking amazing, Dee, oh my god,” you pant, drawing your brows together as you nod in approval at the heated sensation that clings to your bones.

Arousal urges you to pump him faster, and when you do, he husks, “Fuck, Lua—”

“Hmm?”

“Please.”

The tips of his fingers dig into your waist and he scoots further back onto the bed, ushering you onto his lap, “Wanna feel that sweet pussy wrapped around me, please, baby, please.”

Your knees settle on either side of his hips and you fold forward, smoothing your hands up his broad chest, to his neck, then you cup his cheeks. He searches your face, wild-eyed and desperate.

“I love seeing you like this,” you purr, brushing your thumb against his bottom lip, “So fucking needy.”

He groans and his hips jerk, the tip of him nudging up against your entrance. You tease him with it, letting him feel how hot and wet you are without allowing access.

“Do you want my pussy, baby? Or do you need it?”

“I need it,” he rasps, the tendons in his neck going taut he grips your hips with bruising strength, “I’ll fucking die if I don’t feel it, I swear to god, please—”

You lower yourself down slowly, whimpering at the exquisite stretch that reverberates through you.

His back arches off the mattress and he groans, “Fffffuck yes. Holy fucking shit, Lua—”

“So fucking good, oh my god,” you croak, rolling your hips.

You take him slow at first, savoring the way he fills you so perfectly, how he rubs along every tingling nerve inside you. Beneath you, Dieter pants and writhes, devout hands roaming your humid skin, worshiping you.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I love you,” he pants, thrusting up into you so hard and deep you moan. He lets out a gasping chuckle, then drives his hips up again, and again, and again.

You nod in approval. Thick static bubbles at your center. You press your forehead against his, pushing back against his thrusts as they establish a steady rhythm.

“Wanna spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Wanna spend—fuck,” you whimper, nodding again, “Wanna the rest of my life with you.”

“Wanna marry you, make you my wife—”

Still nodding, you choke out, “Yes, oh my fucking god yes—”

“Would you like that? Hmm? Get you a pretty dress and a ring? Show the whole world that I’m yours and you’re mine?”

“I want it, Dee, I do. I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours—“

He captures your lips and pounds into you, hard and fast, exchanging moans with you like vows, vibrating on your tongue as the tingling heat in your belly stretches wider, climbing up your body, swelling and swelling, pulling your muscles tight, until you find yourself suspended in a moment you both never want to end and don’t think you can stand any longer.

Then, it bursts.

You sob when the wave of pleasure washes over and under you, making this sick wet sucking noise as your whole body convulses around him.

Dieter whines against your mouth, fucking up into your fluttering cunt with crazed, frantic thrusts. He goes rigid and silent for a second, then releases a guttural noise from his chest.

When his breath returns to him and his muscles start to slacken, you meet his eyes with a grin that spreads to his lips.

You kiss him, slow and deep, then go limp on his chest, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The two of you stay here for a while, content and rubber-limbed. His fingertips trace the scar tissue on your shoulder and arm while sand gathers heavy on your eyelids.

“I haven’t been able to sleep,” you mumble into the damp crook of his neck, “Not sober, at least. Now you’re here and we have so much to talk about.” You yawn, “And I’m so tired.”

He kisses the crown of your head, then gently persuades you to roll off him onto the mattress. Like a sleepy child, helplessly lethargic and too engrossed in comfort to do it yourself, you let him pull the bedspread out from beneath you and tuck you between the sheets.

The warmth of his skin presses up against yours as he drapes an arm over your belly and tugs you close. When he speaks, his breath is warm on your cheek, voice low and quiet.

“Get some rest, love. We can talk more tomorrow.”

His offer is tempting, but one question nags at the back of your brain and gives you a small burst of energy.

You roll onto towards him, blinking your weighted eyes open to meet his, all gooey and soft as they search your face.

“Did you mean it?”

A mischievous smirk plays on his lips, “What, that I wanna marry you?”

You nod.

“Yeah,” he grins and grabs your hand to kiss your palm, then holds it to his cheek, “What about you? Did you mean it? Do you wanna marry me?”

For some reason, your cheeks get hot and you laugh. The noise is water-logged, struggling against the tears that burn up your throat and blur your vision.

“Yeah, I really fucking do.”

These aren’t the kinds of tears you’re used to crying. They’re celebratory. Joyous. You find yourself unable to stop smiling through them.

“This is crazy,” you tell him, shaking your head, “I love you so much it’s fucking crazy.”

“I love you,” he smiles and brings your hand to his chest, pressing your palm against the thump-thump of life and light and love, “Do you feel that?”

“Your heart?”

He nods, “That’s yours. ‘Til my last breath, then after. It’s yours.”

—

Dieter listens to the peaceful dozing huffs that blow hot across his chest, cherishing each and every one.

He savors the heat of your body on his, the blood pumping through your veins, and the flutter of REM behind your closed eyelids. Proof that you are here, alive and safe in his arms. An answer to his desperate prayers.

Something like relief but bigger engulfs him.

Warmth tingles through his limbs and tears sting behind his eyes. His throat gets all thick with emotion as he pulls your pliant body closer, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

Careful not to be too loud, he whispers, “Thank you.”

He’s not sure who he’s thanking. You or fate or whatever omnipresent puppeteer pulls the strings behind the scenes. He just knows he means it with his whole heart.

Dieter lays here for some time, live-wired with optimism, thinking up a million ways to convey the intensity of his gratitude. His mind wanders into tomorrow and buzzes with anticipation. He gets to tell you about his impromptu trip to New York, and that your charges are dropped.

Goosebumps prick his skin as a realization dawns on him.

You don’t even know.

When deciding to stay, you factored in the consequences of these charges. Your devotion to him was not because of this resolution, but in spite of it.

You had every single reason to doubt this would work. Probable prison time. Shrapnel from the fame machine. Ongoing recovery. The ugly demise of his marriage. The tragic end to yours.

Fuck, it’s a shit show.

And yet, here you are.

He gazes down at you, far away in dreamland, cheek pressed against the rise and fall of his chest. All angel-faced, but with a little drool at the corner of your mouth. Fucking beautiful.

On one hand, he could stay here watching you sleep like a fucking stalker for hours. On the other, his stomach growls for attention.

When he contemplates whether or not to untangle himself from you and tend to this need, you let out a little grumble, then start wiggling around, rolling away from him. He misses the heat of your body as soon as it’s gone, but lets you go anyway.

He carefully gets out of bed and wanders through the dark cabin into the kitchen.

The cupboards are essentially barren, which is both disappointing and unsurprising, but he finds some bread and drops a couple slices into the toaster. While guzzling down a tall glass of iron-flavored water, he notices piles of towels and blankets stacked on the kitchen counter. This piques his curiosity.

To put it lightly, you are an incredibly neat and tidy person. Normally you wouldn’t allow this kind of disorder in your living space, however temporary. He should know. Last week you pulled the clothes out of his dresser and gave him a tutorial on how to fold “the right way” before organizing the acrylic paints in his studio by hue.

Your need for order only increases when you’re distressed, which you definitely were, so… what the fuck is up with this?

When he rounds the countertop peninsula to investigate, something catches his eye. Big slabs of wood propped up next to a door in the hallway. The door sits ajar, the crack emitting a warm golden glow.

His footsteps creak across the wooden floor as he approaches it. Somehow he knows what he’ll find when he opens the door, and releases an amused chuckle when his suspicions are confirmed.

Dark fabric draping the walls. A dimmed-down lantern propped up behind a makeshift seat. The seat, a makeshift nest of pillows and blankets, faces a mirror.

You built a psychomanteum.

Something tugs at his memory, causing him to turn on his heel and walk towards the couch. He picks up the notebook he discarded when you walked through the door and revealed yourself.

He studies the page in abstract, catching little glimpses here and there. Words like unrecognizable and hopeless and monster. Fragments like swerving around traffic, and crying, begging.

Some sentences stand out so much, he can’t help but snag on them.

It was over, I couldn’t do it anymore.

He called me a bitch. A rat.

It didn’t seem real.

He said we had to do this together.

Far away, the toaster pops. He’s not even hungry anymore. In fact, quite the opposite. He feels fucking sick.

A smattering of circles distort in the paper, black ink bleeding out from your script as if diffused by tiny droplets of moisture. Probably tears.

Grotesque curiosity churns beneath his skin.

He swallows around his thick throat and looks up at the closet. The psychomanteum.

The first time he tried to read the passage, before he knew you were ok, he was in such a state of panic that he didn’t fully understand what it was. But he understands now. He sees the pieces and how they fit together.

His stomach twists when he recognizes the pattern laid out before him. His ribcage shrinks two sizes, pushing his pulse to his ears. He runs a hand through his hair and wrings his tight neck as he realizes with horror that he has been a similar kind of monster.

He knows he had a problem. And it wasn’t as much the drugs or infidelity as it was the emptiness. An infection that set in early and rotted out a cavity in his chest. In his heart.

He knows it made him change in unspeakable ways, altering the very nature of his character. It made him angry and reckless and fucking ravenous. Starving for anything that would fill him up, however fleeting.

He was a fucking beast.

He also knows you love him. Flaws and all, you love him. You had the grace to forgive every unforgivable mistake he made.

Could Dieter do the same?

He tosses the notebook down on the coffee table and walks to the closet, opening the door. As he steps inside, he takes the lantern from behind the seat and turns to face him in the mirror.

He studies the face, recognizing the distinct nose and dark eyes. Mop of messy brown curls atop his head. He looks tired, but hopeful.

Staring at his reflection, Dieter tells himself, “I forgive you.”

—

The first thing you notice when you rouse from sleep is the warmth that surrounds you.

You feel Dieter’s chest flush to your back, arms wrapped around your middle, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your combined body heat under the covers makes your skin stick together. The steady rhythm of his breathing moves in time with yours.

Before you even open your eyes, you smile.

Your fingertips twitch against his arm and you try to wiggle even closer, intertwining your legs with his.

Behind you, Dieter stirs a little, then mumbles into your neck, “G’morning, doll.”

“Good morning, love.”

He takes a deep breath in, squeezing you tight, and exhales a groan, “You smell so fucking good what the fuck.”

“I haven’t bathed in days,” you giggle, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair, “I’m stinky.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’re bullshit.”

He laughs this big, boisterous laugh as he rolls onto his back, separating from you save for the arm pinned under your side.

You miss his heat immediately and turn over to face him, scooting close enough to feel it. His gaze holds pure adoration. Your fingertips meet his and play this sort of dance before he laces your hands together.

He asks, “Wanna take a bath then go get some grub?”

—

Dieter lathers up a washcloth, watching the muscles shift beneath your skin as you rinse the remaining conditioner from your hair with a shower head attachment.

When you turn it off, you glance over your shoulder at him and announce, “I’m probably going to prison.”

He sits up and presses the steaming washcloth to your back, working suds up the curve of your spine.

“You’re not going to prison.”

You relax into his touch and snort, “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

��I took care of it.”

“Wha—wait,” you sit up, then turn around to face him, water sloshing around with you. You furrow your brow and stare at him, “What does that mean?”

“It means the DA dropped the charges against you.”

Your eyes narrow as you search his face, “Are you fucking with me?”

“I’m dead serious.”

“How?”

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth as he averts his gaze, shrugging, “Let’s just say that, for plausible deniability reasons, it’s best you don’t know anything else.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not!” he laughs, tugging at your waist. You jokingly wrinkle your nose at his affection, but let him pull you into his lap.

“C’man, sweetheart. Look at me.” He waits until your eyes meet his, then tells you, “I swear to god I’m not fucking with you. You’re clear. A free woman.”

Your shoulders fall away from your ears. You clamp down on your huge smile, then it breaks free, “Really?”

The way you light up at this news… It is breathtaking. Jesus fucking Christ. Worth every second of misery.

“Really,” he smiles, cupping your cheek.

You try to blink away tears with a relieved burst of laughter. You stare at him, glossy eyes all ripe with admiration as they flick around his face, “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he murmurs, holding your gaze, “I’d do anything for you, Louella. You know that?”

Your smile gets bigger somehow. You nod, “I do.”

His stomach flips when he imagines you saying those words in front of that ordained minister he saw in his near-death vision. Little details come into focus. He can taste the salt of the ocean and feel heat from the overhead sun. Light filters through a canopy of sheer white fabric.

The crowd of onlookers is small. Of course, he sees Parker and Darlene and Lincoln. He sees Glenn, looking like a fucking dick as usual, but grinning nonetheless. He sees his brother’s family, the small children all wriggling around in their chairs. He sees a couple, a man and woman around retirement age, that he doesn’t quite recognize, but he understands that they’re Ethan’s parents. He sees his mother dab her eyes with a tissue while his father curls an arm around her shoulders, letting the faintest smile creep across his lips as he watches you slide a wedding band on Dieter’s ring finger.

Atop your head sits a band of stars, forged from gold and adorned with dazzling crystals that glimmer in the sunlight. Corona Borealis for his Princess of Crete. Your dress is cream-colored chiffon and lace and fucking perfect. You have on that smile, the one that takes up your whole face. The one you’re wearing now.

You take the washcloth from him and dunk it under the hot, sudsy water, then bring it to his chest. The smile on your lips lingers as you wash, lathering up his skin with tiny iridescent bubbles.

“What does Darlene think of all this?” you ask, glancing up at him.

Smoothing his hands around to the small of your back, he shrugs and pulls your slick body closer, “In a personal sense, supportive. She helped a lot actually. Held down the fort while I was in New York.”

“While you were—” you scoff, shaking your head with an amused grin, “Dieter, what the fuck have you been up to?”

“Long story, I’ll tell you on the drive home,” he grins.

“Fine,” you snort and roll your eyes, but fold forward against his chest. His eyes drift closed as he relaxes into the heat of your body pressed to his. Fingertips sliding against his collarbone, you ask, “So the blowback to your career has been minimal?”

He gulps when he contemplates how to answer, not wanting to scare you into a spiral that sends you running again. But it is what it is. You’ll find out sooner or later anyway.

“Not… necessarily. It’s been pretty brutal, actually. Mark and Darlene wanted me to throw you under the bus and move on without you, but I refused. So they dropped me.”

You prop yourself up and frown at him, “I thought you said Darlene—”

“She was helping me find you, Lua. She’s supportive of our relationship as my friend, but…”

Your eyebrow quirks, “The optics are shit?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, searching your surprisingly serene face, “It’s ok, though, you know. You were right, I don’t enjoy it anymore. Acting, I mean. I think I’ve been too scared to try anything else, but… I don’t know. I think I’m ready now. I’m ready for the next chapter of my life.”

“You could try writing,” you offer as you trace his jawline, “I could find a job at a bakery or something. It’ll be ok. We’ll figure it out, I know we will.”

He nods, “We will.”

“I love you, Dee,” you say, holding his gaze, “We can do fucking anything together.”

Your certainty hits him square in the chest.

For him, love always cast a dark shadow of fear that warned him to be distant. Not too eager or enthusiastic. Careful not to be fumbled by the wrong hands and wind up broken.

It doesn’t feel like that anymore, he thinks.

Your presence in his life has always been big and blinding. The warmth of your love has blistered his skin more times than he can count. He has dedicated hours upon hours of his life this past year trying to understand your magnitude and longevity, trying to measure the shadow that the fear of losing you cast. The dimensions fluctuated in a non-linear sort of way, waxing and waning with the circumstances surrounding your relationship.

But now?

You are the sun at high noon. No fucking shadow in sight.

—

“All set?”

“I think so,” you zip up your suitcase and look up at Dieter as he leans against the doorframe. Your stomach growls and you groan, “If we don’t get food soon—”

“I found a Denny’s about 30 miles away. Open on Christmas.”

“Thank fucking god.”

Dieter chuckles and buries his hands in his coat pockets, “Oh, by the way…”

He pulls out a small, familiar sketchpad and hands it to you. Nostalgia spreads warm across your chest as you open the cover and flip through Ethan’s artwork. Each page depicts dark and painful images that tug at your heart, reminding you of how much he was suffering.

“How did you—?”

“Part of the long story. Tell you on the way home. But, umm… I figured you should have it.”

You nod, pausing to study a high-contrast illustration that feels different from the previous pages. At first, it just looks like a collection of bold black triangles. The edges and points are crisp. Precise. But as you stare at it, your perspective shifts. The white paper beneath the black ink starts to stand out bright, then rises above the dark hollows.

When it comes into focus, you gasp.

It’s a face.

It’s your face, carved out from negative space.

“That one’s my favorite,” Dieter tells you, “He, umm… he was really talented.”

Through your burgeoning tears, you smile, “Yeah. He was great.”

You tear the portrait from the sketchbook and hand it to Dieter, who asks, “What about the rest?”

Instead of answering, you step past him and take the sketchbook to the living room, where you lower yourself down in front of the fireplace and open the grate. Dieter follows, sitting down beside you as you tear out the first page and feed it to glowing embers in the hearth.

Flames crackle to life, burning the paper to ash.

You give it another.

And another.

When the sketchbook is just an empty shell, you toss it in. Then Dieter hands you something. You glance it over for a moment, recognizing the painful passage you wrote the night before. You give that to the fire, too.

He takes your hand and sits there with you while the flames die and return to smolders.

“How’d that feel?” he asks eventually.

“Fucking perfect.”

You turn to him, searching his face, “Thank you.”

The corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk and he squeezes your hand, “Anytime, doll.”

When you lean in to kiss him, his lips are soft and warm against yours. A sensation swells in your chest, this glowing kaleidoscope of patterns that shifts and twists into a million brilliant images. It feels like forever in the best way. It feels like heaven.

He pulls back, those big ganache eyes meeting yours, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you nod and smile at him, “I’m ready. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Groaning, Dieter climbs to his feet and holds out his hand to you. You accept it, letting him help you up. Your hands stay firmly locked together as he grabs your ratty old suitcase and leads you to the door, out of the dark room and into the bright midday sun.

#psychomanteum #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x ofc #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo smut #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader

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dearorpheus · 1 year

Note

Do you have any writings abt sex and death, and how they're connected? Thanks if you decide to answer!

hiiiii yes♡

first and foremost is Bataille’s Erotism: Death and Sensuality which is expressly about this. everywhere you turn while researching this subject, Bataille will be mentioned. inclusive of this is a foray into religious eroticism/divine love/mysticism and elements of dissolution/continuity, violation and violence, aberration, so on... "There is no better way to know death than to link it with some licentious image." (pdf)

also v central are Freud’s theories surrounding our competing Eros/Thanatos drives, in which (as a very reductive summation) “the death instinct pervades sexual activity”; Freud also touches on dissolution, displacement and 'higher order/form'—you can see here one of the many ways Freud influenced Bataille's theories/writings. ultimately we might agree that the drives, rather than competing, are irreparably intertwined. "Life is displaced death, and death is displaced life." -> I like this article about them, but the source material is his Beyond the Pleasure Principle (pdf) +if you're interested in this, you could further research in sexology, sexual ethics and phenomenology as regarding sexualities linked to death, namely necrophilia, lust murder/sexual homicide, asphyxiophilia (sexual arousal by oxygen deprivation/erotic asphyxiation) and autassassinophilia (sexual arousal from the idea/risk of legitimately—imperatively, not in a fantasy-sense—being killed)

speaking of necrophilia (from Howard Barker’s afterword for Eroticism and Death in Theatre and Performance):

the last two sentences accordant with the modern usage of la petite mort in which the sensation of orgasm is likened to death. literature which comes to mind: M.G. Lewis’ The Monk*, Gabrielle Wittkop’s Le Necrophile, Angela Carter’s “The Snow Child” and “The Lady of the House of Love” as published in The Bloody Chamber, Poppy Z. Brite’s Exquisite Corpse, some of Baudelaire’s poetry...

then getting into more periphery stuff, there’s a lot of theory on the corpse and its sexuality (touched on above) + fetishisation. some theories have to do with executions, others with the sexual aspects of ritual sacrifice, as below in Death Comes To The Maiden: Sex and Execution 1431-1933 by Camille Naish:

more on the former in Julia Kristeva’s The Severed Head: Capital Visions and Nicole Loraux’s Tragic Ways of Killing a Woman

also the eroticisation of the medical venus—for this i heartily recommend Joanna Ebenstein’s The Anatomical Venus which is an absolutely fucking stunning artwork of a book to caress and coo over and cradle as you would a baby and which has a chapter dedicated to ‘Ecstasy, Fetishism and Doll Worship’ that delves into this (and religious eroticism, ne'er shall these subjects be pried apart for individual study it seems, not that i’m complaining)

+supplementary readings into our corpse-like beauty standards, with the heroin chic of the 90s (which has perhaps insidiously returned?) but esp in terms of the consumptive beauty ideals of the fin de siècle x, x etc etc. pervasive and perverted when beauty—an engine of evolution/a vehicle for sexual selection—becomes dictated by icons of illness

other haphazard things which come to mind: Camille Paglia’s Sexual Personae (tw for terf rhetoric); Angela Carter’s Sadeian Woman; cause-and-effect death by sex horror trope/generic imperative of post Halloween/‘78 slasher film; death and the maiden trope ofc which is often highly sexualised

*there is a v good essay on this called “Between Life and Death: Representing Necrophilia, Medicine, and the Figure of the Intercessor in M.G. Lewis's The Monk�� by Laura Miller

#sex and death are connected in cohesion with the human spirit; the coordination of potentialities #eroticism #asks #bataille

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arcielee · 11 months

Text

Farewell Wanderlust

Warnings: As always, MDNI, 18+ past trauma mentioned, sexual themes, unprotected sex, grinding, oral (female receiving), fighting and death, holy ground being disturbed? Pairing: Osferth x OFC Word Count: 5138 Summary: Torn from her home country, Keavy finds herself trying to survive across the Irish sea. She happens across Uhtred and his motley crew, and finds herself befriending a monk who is determined to become a warrior. Author’s Note: I apologize for the delay, irl is being tedious for me, but I very much know how this story will end. We have one more chapter to go! It is still very much a hybrid of the show and the books, with me adding flare as needed to fit the narrative. Anyway, enjoy. 💜 Thank you @theromanticegoist for being my beta reader and offering me a sliver of your insight and talent. Thank you my darling @itbmojojoejo for the gif you took the time to create for me. 💜 Dividers are by @saradika Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @sylas-the-grim @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @tssf-imagines @triscy @whoknows333 @shesjustanothergeek @greenowlfactif @larlarmojo @babyblue711 @fangirlninja67 @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauftivy @vintageypanwitch @heimtathurs (bold means I was unable to tag you!)

Chapter 6

Keavy awoke to the morning light streaming through the cloth that was pinned over the window, allowing a muted, dawning glow to fill the room. She wiped the haze from her eyes and realized the intimate tangle of bare limbs beneath the furs; her gaze moved from the nightstand, from the candle that burnt to its wick and its wax spill onto the wood, and drifted to Osferth, who was curled at her side.

Her slight movement stirred him and he gave a sleepy groan, his arm reaching to wrap around her waist and pulling her against his torso. Soft laughter spilled from her lips with the tickle of his chest hair, his lips soft against her hairline. “Good morning,” she whispered, craning her neck with a phantom kiss to his jawline.

Osferth hummed, tilting his chin downwards to find her lips. “Good morning, beautiful,” his voice was drowsy and each word punctuated with a gentle kiss.

She burned from his touch, from his words–no man before had called her beautiful, especially not a Saxon man. “Do not tease me, Osferth,” her breath fanned his cheeks and she saw his dimples peeked with his smile.

“I would never,” and he kissed her again.

Keavy smiled against the press of his lips, shifting to spread her legs as he moved closer, cradled against her hips; he hummed his pleasure, careful to place his weight on his arms that were propped on both sides, with a slow rhythm of his hips. She sighed as his hardness pressed between her thighs, the genial rub against the flush of her arousal.

“Osferth,” she gasped, arching against him. “I shall never grow tired of this.”

“Do not tempt me,” his mouth moved along the column of her neck, placing kisses until he came to the junction of her shoulder and nipping softly; she sighed again, her skin raising in response. “I may never allow you to leave.”

But inevitably they would, the begrudging pull from the sex soaked linen and allowing the cool air to nip at their skin. Keavy poured the chilled water from the ewer into the porcelain basin and they were quick to clean and dress; she fetched a small vial and her pecten to comb through her dark locks.

She palmed the rose oil gifted from Gisela, working it into her curls, which allowed the polished bone to glide through to style. Osferth came up behind her, his hands gentle to touch and his fingers threaded through to finish braiding her hair. “A man of many talents,” she teased him, her cheeks crimson with his gesture.

“Of course,” his voice low, his attention focused as he knotted the end. “How else do you believe Sihtric manages his hair?”

Her laughter was lyrical, and he smiled; she reached for his hand, her fingers interlacing with his own, and he pulled her outside. The fallen fresh snow glittered with the sun’s light and their breath was white clouds that rose above them; their hands knitted with a soft swing that synchronized with their slow steps as they made their way towards the great hall.

The doors groaned open and the attention shifted towards them; it was the Irishman who began his cheer, with the rest following. “It’s about fucking time,” and Finan’s smile was bright against his dark beard, while a rose color dusted their features as they took their seats at the table to join them.

Winter settled over, which kept the men in Coccham; Keavy did not mind and enjoyed the new comfort with the new routine. She slowly created space for Osferth within her room, enjoying how his scent lingered over the shared space, especially in the furs and blankets from when they curled beneath them, sharing an intimate warmth as they talked about their days.

Outside of Coccham, the snow billowed high against the walls and isolated the village from the rest of Wessex. The inside thrummed still, with pathways that weaved within, the spirits high from the rich harvest despite the cold. An occasional traveler would wander through, taking a moment by the fire and delivering any letters, one which was addressed to Osferth from Lady Æthelflæd.

That night the great hall was alive with liquored cheer, but her focus remained on Osferth as he stepped away a moment to break the seal. To the untrained eye, it could be considered an eager want to read the letter from his kin, but Keavy saw the brief press of his lips into a thin line and the flicker of worry that knitted between his brows as his eyes flitted over the parchment in hand.

Keavy did not wish to draw any attention, but waited as the night waned away, when they began to file out into the night to find their beds. She reached for his hand and they returned to the privacy of the room they now shared, which was dark with a slight chill. Once the door was closed and candles lit, she felt Osferth press up against her, a pillar of warmth on her backside; she sighed as his arms wrapped around her waist, his face nuzzling beneath her scarf and the soft press of his lips to her skin.

“What news did your sister have for you?” Her hand reached back, her fingers combing through his golden locks towards the back of his head.

Osferth hummed and she felt the curl of his lips into a smile. “You read me as well as her words written.”

She turned in his arms to face him, pressing to her tiptoes for a chaste kiss in response. “With the time I have invested, Osferth, I should hope so,” her brow raised to hint the teasing of her tone. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against her own for a moment, slow breaths to intake her fragrance of lavender and thyme, her hint of rose oil in her tresses. Osferth pulled back, taking her hand and moving to sink into the straw mattress.

Keavy followed him, but remained standing between his legs, quiet and watchful as his long, slender fingers that played with her own, his forehead lined as he struggled to find the words. “My father,” he began but it was said as if there was a bitter taste to his tongue. Osferth swallowed and began again. “The king’s health has been failing.”

In the last few years, King Alfred had the reputation for being perpetually ill but without actually dying; Lady Æthelflæd wrote her worry that their father’s luck, or perhaps the favor with his God, was finally coming to an end, or so she believed. “I know he will reach out to Uhtred when winter ends,” and he finally met with her eyes, a glassy shine to his brilliant blue. “Perhaps to ask that Uhtred swear his fealty to Edward.”

She nodded, aware that Æthelflæd was his sister but that Edward was always referred to by his name. “He would never agree to it,” Keavy whispered, one hand coming to touch his jaw. “To swear fealty to a boy would last until the end of his life.”

Osferth nodded and his lashes fluttered closed, leaning into her touch and releasing the hold of her hand; she moved to touch the other side of his face and he reopened his eyes, looking up at her once again.

Before their intimacy finally bloomed between them, she had first become his confidant and, in return, he was her haven embodied. Right now she saw the solemn severity that lined his features, she saw the uncertainty, the weight of the future of Wessex, a burden not belonging and, at the same time, imbedded into his blood.

Her thumb trailed the sharp edge of his jawline. “Let the king call for Uhtred when the snow melts, he will handle him,” and her tone grew coy, “but right now the snow piles high and we must stay warm to survive.”

She leaned forward, another chaste kiss to tease his lips, and his hands moved in response, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer. Keavy grabbed fistfuls of her skirt, rutting the fabric up to straddle him, the soft plush of her thighs caging him to the bed.

His hold moved to cradle her lower back, pulling her against his chest, his head tilting back and pressing his lips to the underside of her jaw. “We must stay warm,” his hot whisper tickled and she tried to pull back with a smile, a giggle, but his grip held and brought her back, capturing her lips with his own.

Keavy moaned and his clever tongue deepen the kiss, as if he was drawing the very breath from her lungs; she wrapped her arms around his neck, leveraging for a slow grind forward against the hardness that pressed through the crotch of his trousers, pulsating from the pressure of her clothed cunt.

Osferth groaned into her mouth and the vibration sent a trickling desire down the length of her spine; his tongue tasted her, his dexterous fingers loosening the ribbons that laced her backside. Their clothing fell to the floor, quick with the cold that seeped in, and he pulled her beneath the layers of their bed, a kiss to the inside of her knee and a trail of open mouth kisses that led to her core.

She sighed with the familiarity of his touch, his lips, and the beginning glints of pleasure sparked before her eyes, leading towards the precipice of her release. A warmth coiled in her lower abdomen as his fingers curled within, one after the other, and she moaned with his ministrations that pushed her over the edge, her blossomed release that spread and pressed the very seams of her being.

Osferth followed through its completion with the sinful squelch of her cunt pulsating around his fingers, almost to that brink of overstimulation, before he withdrew and carefully climbed on top of her. She was breathless and beautifully flushed from her climax, a soft mewl spilled when she felt his length press against, heavy and warm and wanting.

Keavy combed her fingers through his hair, pulling him close for a kiss and savoring her taste on his tongue, while her thighs wrapped around his slender waist. She sighed sweetly as he molded to her curves, the weight of him and the tickle of his chest hair against her bare skin.

His arm reached between, lining himself with her entrance; Keavy moaned when he pushed in, his head dipping into the curve of her neck with his own low groan from how her velvet walls clenched in response. Osferth waited a moment, allowing her the time still needed to adjust to his size, and he only moved when she found his mouth with a hungry kiss to urge him.

The gentle thrusts of his hips began to rekindle the flames licking her bones, the curtails of her prior release still tingling throughout; the crushing closeness, the tickle of his hot breath against her skin and his pace quickened with the flutter of her walls; there is a tandem of their release, the sounds of her sighs and his guttural groan that reverberates through them both.

Every moment spared would be this entanglement of limbs, curling into one another flushed from their climax and until their breaths were an exchange. Eventually, the snow began to thaw and the spring greenery struggled through the cold mush left behind. The earth warmed still and Osferth’s prediction of a letter from the king did not come until the midsummer months.

They packed to travel to Wintanceaster as commanded or as asked, depending if you spoke with the Lord or Lady of Coccham.

Gisela complained with good nature and grace, swollen with the life that grew within her. She sighed her complaints of her size as Uhtred took her hand, careful to guide her steps towards the cart. “It will not be able to hold me,” she smiled with her words.

Uhtred kissed her hand, his other arm wrapping around to lift her inside. “If the wheels split, I will carry you myself,” and his eyes glittered as he teased her, pressing forward to steal another kiss before moving back towards his horse.

Gisela shook her head, her lips pursed into another smile, and her gaze fell to both Keavy and Osferth, with him helping her to mount her horse. “This will be your fate one day,” she called to them, smiling still and raising one brow. “And I will be the one on horseback!”

Keavy flushed from her words, unable to look at Osferth, unable to stop the curl of her lips into a smile from Gisela’s teasing.

Their time together in the last few months had been everything she always hoped for, but she could not help the flutter of apprehension that it would never be more. The thought knotted in her chest late at night when Osferth would curl against her backside, the warmth of his palm on her stomach, but she found it was the one thing she could not say outloud to him.

She confided in the great hall where Hild began to speak scriptures and Gisela waved her off, seated with her swollen ankles propped up. “Away with your Ephesians, Hild. Do not listen to that nun,” she said to Keavy and her dark eyes glittered. “Is he good to you?”

Osferth was and so much more. He showed consideration for her in his every action, something that was without effort and just seemed natural for him: from how he filled his plate to share with her, how he took her hand to lead their steps together, with how his eyes brightened, alert, always aware of their surroundings as if he would do anything to keep her safe. She loved their time together, at the end of the day when he would curl into her, the soft trail of his fingers along the length of her spine and back, or how they would comb through her dark curls with gentle kisses along her hairline.

She was crimson when she finally answered. “He is very good to me.”

“Then that is enough,” and her tone clipped with a sense of finality, and Keavy tried her best to tuck the thought away.

But it still lingered; she was aware of his bloodline, of the royalty that ran through his veins that was stronger than the sins of King Alfred. Keavy assumed the day would come when he would want a wife of his equal, a true Saxon lady of reputation and not some marred, cursed cailín from across the Irish sea.

“Marriage is only a title, a status, an exchange of goods when had,” Gisela argued. “I see how he is with you and it is the actions of a man that speaks of his character.”

This was now the thought that she clung to.

It was then that Finan barked to the caravan prepared, reclaiming her attention, and they made their way towards Wintanceaster.

+ + + +

They had barely arrived when the king called Uhtred away, leaving the rest to settle into the home of the priest and his wife, Thyra; she held the same fierceness as her kin, Uhtred, but had a softer deliverance with it, instilled with the bold blue of her eyes.

Their home was comfortable with a rich fragrance from the supper prepared over the open flame; the children played amongst themselves, with Sihtric’s son alongside Oswald and Stiorra, and the men made their round trips to the alehouse to refill their cups, their spirits high. They crowded around the table to eat and with the shortage of seats, only then did Osferth pull Keavy into his lap, relishing in the sight of color that tinged her cheeks.

Uhtred returned, soured with the news they were to sunder tomorrow, heading towards the Burh of Aescengum on his advice that the king sought from him. “Unfortunate this is the one time he listens to you, lord,” Finan teased him, but he could only manage a grim smile in return.

The following morning, the stables were cluttered as the wives came to bid their farewells, with Keavy among them. Osferth curled his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back, pressing his lips against her own with his promise, “I will return to you.”

Her smile was forced, but her eyes were bright from the kiss.

The sun shone overhead and moved behind them as they went eastwards, the city of Wintanceaster shrinking away. A comfortable silence settled over with the ambling gait of their horses, until Uhtred decided to break it. “I believe it is time you take a wife,” he began, his lips curling as if he was aware of something already. “It is time that you got married.”

There was a low chorus of chuckles from Sihtric and Finan behind them. “I have thought of it,” Osferth admitted.

This was a thought that reverberated within him, something that rattled his bones whenever he was in proximity of Keavy, something ignited with her touch, with her lilt. It followed him, heavy in the air that surrounded them and it mixed with the sickly sweet scent of sex and sweat above their bed shared; his throat was thick with his want to whisper the words: my sweet wife.

But also was the thought that he was a bastard and the curse bond with it. The holy book of Dueteronomy taught how this curse would follow for ten generations because of his illegitimacy. As a boy, he did not mind it, but as he matured, he now found that it clawed at his heart from the moment he had kissed Keavy.

Osferth knew then that he loved her, and that perhaps he always had, as it gradually blossomed more over the years. He enjoyed the sharpness of her emerald eyes, how well she fit into his embrace and he would bury his face into her dark curls. Most of all, he admired her strength and her resilience; Keavy had been shy and hesitant to share the cruelty that destiny littered her path on the way to him; the thought that his curse could possibly add more suffering to it pained him, especially when she already survived so much.

Uhtred raised his brow. “Just thought?”

“Usque ad decimam generationem,” the Latin spilled from his lips and he continued, “I could not… my children would be cursed, their children too, and every child for ten generations.”

Osferth tried to avoid this pending biblical curse that clung overhead, but too often he would be cuntdrunk, with the taste of her lips too enticing and the sinfully sweet clutch of her velvet walls all too consuming. It was only when the post-coital haze wore off that the thought would return: bastard begot bastard, his curse continuing.

“So every bastard is doomed?”

Osferth hummed, his eyes forward. “I do not see the king taking ownership for his… mistakes.”

There was another chortle of laughter and Osferth only hummed again. Ahead of them was the low smoldering glow of the ruined village of Alton, the remains of a guarded church coming to view when Uhtred called to him. “Let us ask your God what else can be done.”

But God had seemed to abandon the parish and instead they found a woman of many names: a seer, a witch, the devil reincarnate. Sihtric moaned of the curse that followed with her capture, voicing his concerns until it was palpable and heavy overhead. Only Finan was bold enough to say, “Do not speak of it, it only gives it strength,” and it was left alone, but lingered on the edge of their minds.

The Battle of Farnham, as it would be remembered, was a slaughter of Danes and their victory was sung throughout Wessex, following their return to the city. It was surreal with the echo of bells off of the Roman structures that were still rooted throughout the city, the swarm of the crowd and their cheers for King Alfred and his men, for their victory and safe return.

Osferth peered through, his eyes sharp for Keavy, or even Gisela, but instead he spotted the nun Hild; he saw how her face was drawn with grief and the nursemaid in her shadow, holding a bundle to her chest. Before he could say a word, Uhtred quickly dismounted and pushed through towards her; Osferth instead swung his leg over, following after Beocca back to his home, relief washing over when he saw Keavy seated inside with Stiorra and Oswald.

The priest moved to kiss his wife and Keavy pushed to her feet, enveloping in Osferth’s arms; he pulled back to kiss her, finding her cheeks stained with tears that confirmed the news plainly written in Hild’s expression outside.

Gisela was gone. “I could not save her,” she whispered hoarsely and he pulled her close again, a soft kiss on her hairline.

With the summer months waning away, the night came with its chill and its sorrow. Osferth took Keavy’s hand and they moved outside the city walls, towards the holy ground where Gisela had been buried; Hild breathed a quick prayer and the men grabbed their shovels, upturning the fresh grave.

Uhtred watched as the flames licked up the sides of the lumber stacked, the poignant smell of death masked by the smoke that curled up into the silver light of the moon. “It is beautiful,” and Hild wet her lips, her voice a reverent whisper amongst the splintered pops of wood. “It is as though she is drifting away from the earth and upwards towards the heavens.”

The amber glow of the funeral pyre cast its golden dysphoria over him, his cheeks shone with his tears and he wilted with wracking sobs that echoed emptily against the trees. Osferth moved to his side and Finan quickly to the other, a strong hold of their lord, with their whispered words of comfort offered to him.

“Death is unavoidable, it is a part of life,” he rasped, his palmed gripped Osferth and his glassy eyes locked onto him. “It is inevitable, but love is not and you must always take the moment when it is offered.”

As their attention returned to the blaze, Osferth dared peer back to see Keavy. She held onto the hand offered by Hild, pale in the moonlight and her features tight with her grief aflare, reflecting her tear streaked cheeks, and he had the intrusive thought.

She is lovely still.

Uhtred’s words was something repeated in his mind as they retreated back inside the city, returning to their beds; it was a soft echo still in his mind as he pulled her flush against his chest, something that resonated when he felt the gentle press of her lips to the underside of his jaw, nestling into his embrace. Osferth held her close throughout the night, his fingers tangled in her dark curls and his other hand rested on her hip, the soft expansion with her every breath eventually lulling him to sleep.

The lamenting lessened in the days that followed. Though the grief remained, there was room for a sense of clarity, for Uhtred to announce they were leaving Wintanceaster at once. Osferth saw how he was haunted with Gisela, how the city now served a reminder of his love that was lost.

He knew this would follow them back to Coccham and he thought back to that summer day years before, when he first came to swear his sword to Uhtred and what he promised, his words–“You may never see Wessex again,”–but still they remained, tethered by the oath to the king.

Osferth only truly understood his sister’s words when he saw their father at Aescengum; he almost did not recognize the cadaverous man had it not been for his crown, his regalia that hung from his thin frame. The dark force that escorted him from Wintanceaster was now grey in his complexion, with silver streaks in his hair and beard, a brittle man that a strong gust could have swept away.

He also thought of what else she wrote, how she encouraged him to come to her estate, to come to Mercia; her letters tempted him to go, to take Keavy and to travel North.

But instead he stayed, now spurred with the unspoken exigency to ready the horses, to leave the city at once, and it was interrupted when Beocca called for Uhtred, stating the king called for him again. They watched him leave before continuing, with an unease that lingered behind.

Later, Osferth first spotted his return, his grief partnered with a fervor as he called to him, to Finan and Sihtric. The city thrummed, holy ground has been disturbed, and soon the king’s guard arrived, but the men of Coccham were already standing guard, with a palpable choler that solidified their stance.

In that moment, his sister’s words returned. “We need to get them out,” his voice was low, whispered to Sihtric; Finan continued to needle Steapa and his men, bold as always. The Dane quirked his brow at Osferth. “The children, your wife and son,” he continued, before adding, “and Keavy.”

Sihtric steeled his jaw, a sharp nod to acknowledge his words. “You have a plan, baby monk,” but it was not a question, more a statement.

Osferth hummed, his eyes locking onto Hild as she pressed through the men, a beacon for peace and her tongue chastising them all.

“You were goading him,” she hissed to Finan as she moved past him.

The Irishman raised his brows in response. “I was, Hild. And enjoying it.”

“So the abbess may enter, but I may not?” Steapa sounded incredulous and Osferth took the moment, a quick nod to Sihtric, before falling behind in her steps.

Finan squared off, just as bold. “We’re afraid of the abbess.”

Osferth slipped behind Hild, leaving the nun to have her scathing exchange with the kept witch while he moved towards Keavy. She was seated by the bed, the children tucked away as she ushered soft tones to soothe them.

He thought back to their days together in Coccham, their rosy-cheek smiles now hallowed with the somber undertone that clung to their small frames. Osferth felt the loss of Gisela, as she was kind to him, but understood that the children felt it tenfold.

“We need to leave the city,” he murmured low enough for her to hear; Keavy looked to him, her lips parted to ask but his low timbre continued, cutting through the tension of the room. “Lord, we need to get the children and women out of the city.”

The focus turned towards them. “I cannot have them return to Coccham,” Uhtred began, his tone wry. “That land belongs to the king and I am not in his favor.”

“I am aware,” and he paused, a look stolen to take in Keavy, his gaze trailing the severity that lined her face and spilled into the scar along her jaw. Osferth then looked back at Uhtred. “We should send them to Saltwic, lord.” From the corner of his vision he saw Keavy stiffen, how her green eyes darkened and pinned him where he stood, but he did not look away from Uhtred. “My sister will never forget what you have done for her and I know she will be the sanctuary needed,” his tongue wet his lips, “I agree with Hild. You should call for Beocca and hear the demands of the king to serve as a distraction.”

Uhtred nodded, his focus returning to Hild. “I am willing, but in exchange for the safety of our children, for our women,” and she watched him, her eyes flitting back and forth his face. “I worry about getting them out of the city.”

Osferth now looked to Keavy, but her attention was rapt, her grip tightened on the handle of the seax that hung at her side. “I will protect them, lord,” Keavy stepped forward, a slight tremor to her tone. “I swear it on Lady Gisela.”

“I will also go with them, Uhtred,” Hild sighed. “I will first tell Beocca that you are ready to listen and then I will see that they are escorted to Saltwic.”

Uhtred offered a small smile and Hild was gone; Beocca was quick to arrive with the demands of the king, which called for silver and his vow to the aetheling. Uhtred pushed to stand, following Beocca out into the night, pausing to hand his sword, Serpent-Breath, to Finan and his eyes landed onto Osferth.

“You know what to do.”

Time slipped through their fingers with this newfound urgency, licking their heels to quick their steps to the stables the moment the guard shifted to follow Uhtred and Steapa. The sleepy haze was wiped from the children’s eyes by the hem of Hild’s sleeve, the hushed tears and kisses exchanged between Sihtric and his wife, Sigdeflaed, while Finan saddled the last mare.

Osferth felt the slight tremble of her hold and looked down at Keavy, her eyes watchful, almost doleful. “You will be safe in Saltwic,” he whispered in the shell of her ear as he pulled her close. “This is for the best, this will keep you safe.”

She pulled back, her brow furrowed with her sharp nod, her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed the threat of tears. “I know this, I understand this is the logical thing to do and yet…” and she took a deep breath, her hands moving to untie her necklace. “Osferth, I want you to take this and for you to bring it back to me.”

He leaned forward and his skin prickled with her touch as she knotted it behind the nape of his neck; the silver cross gleamed in the little light offered. “Return to me, Osferth,” her voice was small.

He pressed closer and captured her lips, her honeyed kiss a balm for his resolve. Osferth moved to help her onto the backside, then he picked up Stiorra who nestled in front–one child for each rider. His hand then fell to touch Keavy’s ankle, sliding up beneath her skirts and he gently squeezed her calf; she looked down at him. “I will return to you,” he promised.

Her response was a pained smile, another quick nod, and she brought her heels against to trot behind Hild and Sigdeflaed. Osferth followed behind until they passed through the gates, and remained until they were silhouettes in the night.

Finan clasped his hand onto his shoulder and Osferth looked at the Irishman. “We will see them again. Soon, baby monk,” he promised. “Now help with the gate.”

previous | Chapter 7 | masterlist

#the last kingdom #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fanfiction #osferth #osferth fanfic #osferth fanfiction #osferth x ofc #we need more osferth fanfic #slow burn #farewell wanderlust

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booksbabes · 4 months

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I need some opinions on a Thorin x ofc fin im writing

I want to attempt to get the whole thing written before I post it. I feel like I loose interest if I post as I go.

It’s set pre quest to Erebor. Everyone is about 7 years younger than the quest age. Should Thorin and OC fall in love in this fic before quest? Should the quest even happen? I like to read hobbit fics other than the whole quest itself it tends to get predictable. And I feel there are a lot of post-quest. Everyone lives. But not many pre-quest. (Everyone will live bc I cannot take unhappy endings) let me know what you think or any ideas!

#thorin oakenshield x reader #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin oakenshield smut #thorin x reader #thorin fic #thorin fanfic #thorin imagine #thorin x oc

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saiyanprincessswanie · 1 year

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SaiyanPrincessSwanie - Reading List Week 149 & 150

Welcome to Week 149 & 150

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal boosting them. Author is listed next to title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community. 💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

My Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers & header by me

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Mine Part 2 - (Steve x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Protecting What's His - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Secrets chp 14 - (Steve x OFC, Brock x OFC) - @nekoannie-chan

Bucky oneshot - @angrythingstarlight

Starving, Darling - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Rule Number One - (Bucky x Reader) - @sidepartskinnyjeans

Bucky One shot - @angrythingstarlight

A fallen crush - (Steve x Reader) - @biteofcherry

Not my world part Il - (Steve x OFC) - @nekoannie-chan

Two kings (10) - FIN of Arc 1 - @holylulusworld

A Vampire's Kiss - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

All Access - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Slow - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Dog Tags - (Stucky x Reader) - @sidepartskinnyjeans

Our psychos break the new toy in - (Mr Freezy x Reader) - @the-iceni-bitch

You Get What You Pay For - (God the Bounty Hunter x Reader) - @navybrat817

Wild Kitten (10) - @holylulusworld

A hard world - (Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Secrets Chapter 15 - (Steve x ofc, Brock x ofc) - @nekoannie-chan

Delectable Discipline - (Steve x Reader x Lloyd) - @labella420

Terms and Conditions - Keep the Change - (Andy x Reader) - @navybrat817

3 Billion Divorce - My Dear Wife - (Lloyd x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Collared part 15 - (Dean x Reader) - @spnexploration

I wish it wasn't true - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Visible Mark - Part 3 - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @navybrat817

Digital Bath - Part 2 - (Bucky x Reader) - @syntheticavenger

A Kiss to Remember - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Fresh Fallen Snow, Part 2 - (Curtis x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

Signals - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

His Inheritance - Part 19 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18

#saiyanprincessswanie #recommended reading #missy reads #missy reblogs #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x ofc #brock rumlow x ofc #lloyd hansen x reader #curtis everett x reader #dean winchester x reader #god the bounty hunter x reader #mr freezy x reader #stucky x reader

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 10 months

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Can’t Say No

Fandom: American Actor, Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader x Jerry Schilling

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Jerry Schilling, Memphis Mafia

Word Count: 5108

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Elvis Presley is an understanding man. Loving you is something he understands all too well.

Tags/ Warnings: Series of Oneshots, Non Chronological Order, Graceland, POV Second Person, Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Penetrative Sex, Group Sex, Extra Marital Sex, Threesome F/M/M, Kissing, Kisses, Neck Kissing, Cuddling, Declarations of Love, Falling In Love, Angst, Fluff, Creampie, Dom/Sub, Dom Elvis, Teasing, Wife Sharing, Reverse Harem, Established Relationship, Marriage, Reader and Elvis are Married, Breeding Kink

Notes: Fin!

As much as I’ve loved writing for our slutty summer Saturdays I think here’s a good place to end it.

As previously stated if I had to pick anyone after Elvis it would for sure be Jerry so ofc I had to finish it on him. But don’t be sad – I’m sure Elvis and Reader will be having lot of hot baby making sex that I might write about one day. Hope you’ve liked it <3

LINK TO MADE FOR THE MAFIA

You were upset. Anyone would think that it might have been the long day of travelling that had gotten to you or the fact that since you had touched down in California Elvis had been forced into meetings meaning that he had only got home an hour or so ago. They’d be wrong. You weren’t upset about that, in fact, what you were upset about was the fact that when Elvis had finally trudged upstairs to bed, finding you ready and waiting to spend a little one on one time together he had told you no. Well not no but he had rejected your advances citing the need to wind down after a long day by watching the football which was now playing out into the room much to your annoyance.

You were laying in bed beside him your fingers playing with his large hand as you rested your cheek against his shoulder waiting for him to pay attention to you though he was watching the TV riveted. In fact the only time he peeled his gaze away was when he rang through for some sodas to be brought up, Jerry knocking at your bedroom door not five minutes later.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle not getting your own way it was just that when it came to you Elvis rarely refused to bend to what you wanted. So you weren’t unaccustomed to it.

It didn’t help that over the past couple of weeks you’d been living in a permanent bliss. Since the incident and Red’s subsequent punishment your little arrangement had cooled off. Though you hadn’t mentioned it outright the boys seemed to notice that they weren’t in favor, well not at the moment, and had left you and Elvis to it. And that had been heaven.

Without them there he had seemed to relax. It was less about experimenting and more about the experience. He had shown you almost every day that he loved you with his entire being and you had done so in return. But if you were being honest you missed the man he was when they were around. You missed the fire in his eyes when he took charge or how he showed them he was your one and only. It had been a good side of him, well before it had all gotten too much.

In fact as Jerry handed a couple of Pepsi bottles over and prepared to leave you found yourself missing the way it had been when it was just the three of you. At least then it had been uncomplicated.

And so before you could force yourself not to you said, ‘why don’t you stay?’

‘What?’ Jerry said glancing at Elvis and then back at you. You knew why he was questioning it, any previous offers had been more than just about watching football and since you had cooled it he had every right to be confused. ‘He can stay right baby? Watch TV with us?’ you asked looking at Elvis whose eyes narrowed as he tried to work out what you were up to before he said, ‘yeah sure. Take a seat man.’

Jerry paused but seeing as the pair of you were watching him intently he nodded and slipped onto the bed beside you. This one was smaller than your bed back home, meaning that he was pressed against you as you lay between them, throwing him a smile as you settled back.

Though as you looked at the TV your eyes glazed over as your need took hold. You yearned for Elvis to touch you, though he pretended not to notice as you leaned further into him. So your mind started to wander. You knew you shouldn’t, that he would pay attention to you soon but you couldn’t help yourself, especially when Jerry shifted, his thigh rubbing against yours making the dampness between your legs worsen as you glanced towards him. He smiled awkwardly and then looked back at the TV only upsetting you further. A couple months ago both these boys would’ve been chomping at the bit to do something with you and now it all felt off.

And you didn’t want that. In fact what you did want you were laid in between but you knew Elvis wouldn’t bend to your pouting. Though he rarely told you no when he did he had a will of iron. Jerry however you doubted would be as strong. So you came up with a plan. One that went into motion the moment your hand fell onto Jerry’s thigh.

Given the summer heat he wasn’t wearing much, just shorts and a T-shirt so when you reached across you were touching bare skin. You could feel his eyes burning into you but you kept your gaze forward, fixed on the TV, as you trailed your fingers in soft circles against him.

As he put his gaze back on the TV you smirked to yourself, allowing your hand to trace over the material of his shorts. You could feel him shift, trying to ignore the fact the material was getting a lot more restrictive the more your hand moved. When you glanced towards Elvis however he didn’t even seem to notice in fact he was leaning forward excitedly anticipating a coming touchdown.

‘That’s it he’s gonna do it! Hot damn!’ he said cheering as he moved forward forcing you off of him in his excitement meaning that your hand fully shifted, touching Jerry’s now hard cock. However it was only brief and your hand had no sooner brushed against it before Jerry was leaping up, his face flush with embarrassment though you could see he was thanking God his situation wasn’t too noticiable given the shorts he was wearing. ‘You alright man?’ Elvis asked he lay back his arm going around your shoulders as you feigned innocence. ‘Yeah,’ Jerry said clearing his throat, ‘you want more sodas? I can get ya more sodas.’ ‘Nah I’m good,’ Elvis said though as Jerry made no attempt to sit back down next to you he said, ‘oh don’t mind her. She’s just pouting because I won’t fuck her.’

Jerry’s eyes went wide as did yours as you looked towards him, a scowl on your face that made him smirk as you protested, ‘I am not pouting!’ ‘Sure you’re not, is that why your hands been rubbing up Jer’s thigh for the last ten minutes?’ he said smirking as you folded your arms across your chest, ‘you can’t kid a kidder baby.’ ‘I’m not kiddin’ anyone,’ you said looking away from him, irked that your teasing hadn’t gotten the reaction you hoped for. ‘Hey now stop poutin’ I told ya I would didn’t I?’ he reasoned brushing your hair off your shoulder though you continued not to look at him. ‘I guess I just thought I was more appealing than the football,’ you said. ‘You are look would ya just give me till the end of the game?’ Elvis asked. You could feel yourself caving, his fingers down the chiffon of your nightdress creating goosebumps as they went but the throb between your legs was too much. You would give him his game but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t start without him. You nodded earning yourself a smile and feeling like he was back in safe territory Jerry took a seat back beside you.

Once he was situated though you moved turning to face both men whose eyes fell on you instead of the TV. Then Elvis watched as you clambered onto Jerry’s lap, sitting on his thighs as he watched you, mouth agape and dry.

‘Baby,’ Elvis said with an edge to his voice. It wasn’t that he was mad at you it was just that you were openly disobeying him. ‘Yeah?’ you asked as your fingers fiddled with the waistband of Jerry’s shorts. ‘I thought we were waiting,’ he said. ‘You said you were waiting,’ you said, ‘maybe me and Jer don’t wanna wait.’ ‘Y/N,’ Jerry said unsure. ‘Oh come on Jer don’t ya fancy a lil helping hand,’ you said ghosting your hand against him, ‘how longs it been? Weeks?’ ‘Exactly. Ten minutes ain’t gonna kill him and it won’t kill you either,’ Elvis said. ‘I don’t know,’ you mused teasing your finger along Jerry’s clothed shaft, ‘from the looks of things I’d say making him wait could seriously hurt him. And y’know I can do a lot in ten minutes.’ ‘You think?’ Elvis said. He was baiting you, knowing what you really wanted was him but he wasn’t going to let you win that easily. So he said, ‘fine. Go ahead but don’t expect me to be waiting around once I’m ready.’

And then he turned his head to the screen. It wasn’t what you wanted. You’d hoped he’d cave but seeing that he wasn't you decided not to pout any longer and take matters quite literally into your own hands.

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around Jerry whose hold on you remained tentative, glancing towards Elvis unsure though you turned his face back to look at you.

‘You’re not going to leave me high and dry now are ya?’ you purred. ‘EP-‘ ‘Is fine,’ you said, ‘if he would rather look at 30 guys run about a field he can. But is that what you want?’

Jerry looked at you, watching him expectantly, and then shook his head

‘Good boy,’ you smiled before you leaned into kiss him. It was slow and languid, his hands finding your waist as he held you to him but it wouldn’t last. Not when you had a time limit hanging over you. You pulled back, sitting firmly on his lap as you shimmied the straps of your night gown down, allowing it to gather at your waist as you revealed yourself causing Jerry’s cock to twitch at the sight. Your hand ghosted down him, teasing along his waistband before you pulled them down with some assistance until he sprang free, slapping against his own stomach where he left a trail of excitement behind.

As you reached your hand forward to grasp him he grunted, thrusting his hips up for any scrap of relief you could offer. For a moment you could’ve sworn you felt Elvis watching you but when you looked his way his gaze remained fixed on the screen, seemingly ignoring the pair of you. So you paid him no attention, moving your hand against Jerry, your thumb swirling over his tip as you moved at an agonisingly slow pace. You kept your hand moving, enjoying the way your touch seemed to reek havoc on his breathing. When you looked up he was watching you lustfully.

‘So,’ you mused, ‘be honest.’ ‘What?’ Jerry said though it was more uneven than he intended. ‘Have ya missed this?’ you asked. ‘Is that a serious question?’ Jerry said making you giggle, even harder as his head fell back as he said, ‘oh fuck.’ ‘I’ve missed it too,’ you said. You were looking at Jerry but your words were meant for Elvis, hoping he’d see how much you needed him, ‘don’t know how he expects me to wait through an entire football game. Not after months of us all running amuck.’ ‘I can’t believe he said no,’ Jerry said in a tone so honest you wondered if he had forgotten Elvis was less than a metre away. ‘Guess I’m not as appealing as football,’ you giggled.

He was meeting your pace now, thrusting up into your hand though his face fell as your movements slowed. You knew Elvis loved you but teasing Jerry made you excited, seeing the desperation on his face as his eyes pleaded with you to give him the release he was looking for.

‘Are you gonna touch me Jer?’ you asked in a sickeningly sweet voice. ‘I’ll do anything,’ he pleaded. ‘Yeah?’ you asked earning a nod, ‘you gonna cum for me first?’ ‘Fuck,’ Jerry said. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. It wasn’t that you two hadn’t been in this situation before it was that all the times before Elvis had been right there with you. He knew if Elvis had a problem he would never have let it get this far and he also knew that all of this was to get a rise out of your husband. But it didn’t feel like that. In the moment it felt as though it was just you and him, as if you were the only two there. It felt good. ‘That’s not an answer,’ you said leaning in as your hand worked his shaft quicker and quicker, your chest pressing against his as you placed your mouth next to his ear, ‘now…are you gonna cum for me Mr Schilling?’ ‘Yes,’ he said obediently, unable to fathom how his own name could sound so erotic. ‘Where do you wanna cum?’ you asked. ‘Your mouth,’ he said without a thought in his brain to stop him not that it mattered as when you pulled back your face was plastered with a cheeky smile and you shuffled down the bed until you were laying between his legs.

As your hand held him your mouth moved to his balls, your tongue swiping along them in a manner that made his toes curl. Yet your tongue didn’t stop there instead it carried on its knee weakening assault along every inch of him until it could swirl his head before you inched him into your mouth. He groaned, his hands flying to your hair as you worked him. He was moving his hips against you, his fingers knotting in your locks as you moved. You could tell he was getting closer, the familiarity you had with the man telling you what ever little grunt and groan meant until he spoke.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna cum,’ he panted as you pulled back, keeping his tip in your mouth as your hand met his on his shaft working him frantically until you felt his release spill onto your tongue. You swallowed him down effortlessly, pulling off him with a pop though before you could speak you felt hands on your legs pulling you away from him as your body was flipped. You hadn’t noticed him move but Elvis was on you in a matter of seconds, your body pinned in the nook of Jerry’s legs as he hovered over you. Your hands immediately went to his neck, stroking it as he smirked at you.

‘Thought you weren’t touching me,’ you said. You were unable to hear what the TV was playing in the background but with all your teasing you assumed you’d gone well over your time. ‘You had with a minute to spare,’ he said leaning down to kiss you, his lips migrating along your jaw as you sighed. You had won but that didn’t mean you were going to let him off easy. ‘Doesn’t that mean there’s still a minute left of your game then?’ you asked smirking as he pulled back to look at you. ‘Yeah but you were right,’ he said as his fingers found their way up under the hem of your nightdress, teasing your folds as he found there was nothing there to stop him, ‘this is a better.’

And before you could protest he moved to thrust inside you, burying himself down to the hilt as he buried his face in your neck.

‘Honey you’re soaked,’ he grunted moving his hips at a furious pace. ‘Been waitin’,’ you panted. There was no tenderness here, the gentle and loving caresses the pair of you had shared for the past few weeks were all but forgotten as he plunged in and out of you his mouth nipping and sucking ever inch of your skin he could reach without disentangling from you. ‘You ain’t ever gonna have to wait again,’ he said, ‘never gonna say no again.’ ‘Promise?’ you groaned as he hit that sweet spot, forcing you to grind your hips against him chasing the high once more. ‘Promise,’ he said, ‘I’ll give you anything you want.’ ‘Want it E,’ you said grasping his face. ‘You sure?’ he said making you nod, ‘ask me again doll. Tell me what you want.’ ‘Want you to cum in me,’ you said breathily. ‘Mmm?’ he asked, ‘you gonna take it from me? Fill you up all nice and full? ‘Yes,’ you said. Though you had been on edge all day waiting for this very thing none of the anticipation could’ve matched what you were feeling at that moment. ‘Okay honey,’ he said, ‘but ya gotta cum with me okay?’ ‘Okay,’ you said as he moved his hips against your he snaked a hand between you both, tracing electrifying circles around your clit. ‘You ready?’ he asked as you nodded, unable to keep your eyes open as you clung to whatever would keep you grounded namely his hair and Jerry’s leg. ‘Fuck E,’ you whimpered ‘That’s it,’ he grunted, ‘cum with me now.’

And then he was spilling out into you, his hips going haphazard in movement though his fingers never lifted from your clit causing ecstasy to flow through you milking him for all he was worth.

As he slowed down and the shocks started to ebb you opened your eyes finding him still watching you breathlessly. You giggled pushing the hair that had fallen in his eyes off his face as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. When he pulled back he was sporting that familiar lopsided grin.

‘You happy now?’ he asked. ‘Very,’ you giggled. ‘M’glad,’ he said kissing you once more. Then he pulled out of you wiping you both down with one layers of your nightgown of which there were and outrageous amount of before he shuffled back up the bed, you scampering behind him. Though as you flipped yourself onto your knees you seemed to notice the pair of you weren’t alone, that the passionate moment you had shared had been witnessed. But you didn’t care instead you climbed back to your spot on the bed, cuddling into Elvis’ side.

However as you did Jerry started to shuffle up towards the edge of the bed only stopping when you tugged on his T-shirt. He looked at you puzzled making you smile, ‘and where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I thought I’d give you guys…y’know…’ he said awkwardly sighing as you raised an eyebrow, ‘some privacy.’ ‘I think we’re well past that part don’t you?’ you giggled patting the bed beside you, ‘c’mon. Besides he missed the ending of the game which means he needs someone to watch the highlight show with and I’m tired.’ ‘Like you paid attention before,’ Elvis chuckled pressing a kiss to your temple. As the pair of you watched Jerry he seemed to deliberate before eventually he nodded and climbed back on the bed beside you. You shuffled down in your seat, wrapping your arm in Elvis’ as you snuggled against his shoulder though that didn’t stop you from using your other hand to take hold of Jerry’s holding it gently. You glanced at him, offering a smile which he returned before you looked back to the TV, finally content.

You still weren’t watching whatever was playing but your mind wasn’t whirring now, in fact, you were enjoying just being beside them both, listening to them talk about the football until finally you felt yourself being pulled into a slumber. And after a while, from where Jerry was sitting, it appeared that both of you had fallen asleep and so he gently let go of your hand and placed it on your thigh before he shifted himself off the bed.

He moved silently through the room opening the door quietly until he could wander down the hall and out onto the patio. The summer night’s air was warm but given that he was still in his shorts and a t-shirt he felt a chill run through him though he didn’t care. He just needed to be outside, to think. Though as he stood there he heard the sliding door open once more and he sighed to himself thinking it was one of the boys needing him for something but it wasn’t, it was Elvis. He didn’t say anything, instead, he allowed his friend to come and stand beside him but where Jerry was looking out onto the valley below Elvis was leaning against the railing, watching him.

‘You alright man?’ Elvis asked. ‘M’fine,’ Jerry shrugged, ‘just figured I’d give you two some space.’ ‘Yeah?’ Elvis asked. Jerry nodded and then he dropped his gaze looking back out at the view as he tried to work out how to phrase what he wanted to say next. ‘You know I’ve been thinkin’,’ he said nervously glancing at Elvis who watched him but said nothing, ‘maybe we should stop…’ ‘Oh?’ Elvis asked. ‘I mean not that it ain’t been fun or anything because it has but I mean after the last couple of times maybe it’s better if we don’t,’ Jerry said watching Elvis. ‘Why ‘cause Red can’t last longer than two minutes?’ Elvis asked though he knew that wasn’t the reason. ‘I’m just sayin’ it’s getting complicated don’t you think? I mean you can't deny Red got y’all a lil spun out,’ Jerry said. ‘So we go back to the way it was,’ Elvis shrugged making Jerry sigh. He was trying so hard to get his point across, to say what he wanted to say without saying it outright but it was falling flat well, that’s what he thought until Elvis said, ‘you fell in love with her didn’t you.’

Jerry looked up at him, his face splashed with regret though he didn’t say anything for a minute, allowing the words to hang between them. But it was confirmation enough. Elvis sighed and turned to look out at the valley himself, the lights of the houses below them twinkling even in the light of the summer’s night. After a minute Jerry spoke, saying the only thing he could muster.

‘I didn’t mean to.’ ‘I know,’ Elvis said quietly. There was no anger behind it, yet Jerry didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. He had half hoped that he would’ve torn into him, the way he had with Red, if it would’ve helped that gnawing feeling in his gut he would’ve let him whoop his ass. And though he had no right to all he could do was plead with him. ‘Please don’t tell her,’ he begged. Elvis sighed a laugh. ‘I don’t kick a man when he’s down,’ Elvis said looking at his friend. Neither of them spoke for a minute, unable to navigate through the awkwardness. But Elvis couldn't help himself, the questions in his mind begging to come out.

'How long?’ ‘EP-’ ‘How long?’ Elvis asked though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know. He had started their arrangement because he hoped they could all have a bit of fun, to learn his best friend might have had other intentions would sting he was sure. ‘I don’t know,’ Jerry said honestly, ‘but the whole thing with Red…’ ‘Right,’ Elvis said looking away from him. It was a relief if only slightly.

Again the pair of them remained quiet, though there were questions spinning through both of their minds, neither of them knowing where to start. Eventually, Jerry bit the bullet though he refused to look up as he said, ‘so we stop?’

‘I think that’s for the best,’ Elvis said earning a nod. ‘Maybe the other guys,’ Jerry said clearing his throat, ‘maybe you could…’ ‘Nah, not without you,’ Elvis said shaking his head, ‘I mean they’re fine and she likes ‘em but…if it’s worth anything I think she’s come to like you too.’ ‘EP don’t be cruel,’ Jerry whispered. ‘I’m not,’ Elvis said firmly, ‘look do I think she’s clambering to leave me for you? No…but she does love you Jer.’

Jerry had been looking away from him but as his words he couldn’t resist glancing his way though he immediately wished he hadn't because he could see from the look on his friend's face he was telling the truth. It was enough to make his heart flutter and squeeze all in one go. He groaned moving to sit on one of the patio chairs as he put his head in his hands, ‘I am an idiot.’

‘I’d say I blame ya but I can’t…not really,’ Elvis said watching his friend sadly. And in that instance, he had the urge to comfort him. It was odd to want to comfort your best friend, especially when the said friend had just admitted to falling in love with your wife after fucking her senseless so many times yet he knew how he felt. He wished he could be angry but watching the man in front of him so torn up over a love he knew was worth it meant he couldn’t be. He was just lucky that it was him you had picked.

‘You know if it was any other circumstance you know who I’d tell ya to speak to,’ Elvis mused making Jerry sigh. ‘Yeah she’d probably sort it all out for me,’ Jerry said. ‘Hell she’d probably let ya use her to wean yourself onto the next ‘un,’ Elvis chuckled. Jerry chuckled too though he felt fear flutter through him and he stood up. ‘She can't know,’ he said firmly. ‘No, I know,’ Elvis sighed. Jerry nodded feeling a little bit better though he bit his lip as he asked, ‘what are you gonna say?’ ‘I’ll think of sumthin’. I’ll probably blame Red to be honest with ya. I mean she’ll be bummed but she’ll understand,’ Elvis shrugged. Jerry nodded. ‘Promise you won't tell her?’ Jerry asked hoping for one last confirmation. ‘Of course not,’ Elvis said, ‘I wouldn’t do that to ya. You’re my best friend.’

Jerry nodded moving back to the balcony as his mind whirred. He felt better for telling his friend but that still didn't stop his stomach from flooding with butterflies the moment his thoughts landed around you. It also didn’t stop the guilt from flooding through him as he felt Elvis place a hand on his shoulder for just a moment before he headed inside.

When he got back to the bedroom you were laying on your front, tucked under the bedclothes as you slept soundly, though you were disturbed as he climbed in beside you, slipping down onto his back as you moved to lay on him.

‘Where’ve you been?’ you asked stirring as he wrapped his arms around you. ‘Nowhere baby,’ he murmured, ‘go back to sleep.’ ‘Where’s Jer?’ you asked, your eyes opening a touch as you realised the bed that had been practically absent of space was now empty on your other side. ‘Gone,’ Elvis said trying to keep his tone even. You nodded, yawning as you rubbed your eyes. He watched you closely, he had to tell you, now in the dark where you wouldn’t question him too much because he knew if you asked, if you probed at him, he wouldn’t be able to keep it from you - no matter what he’d promised his friend.

So before you could lay your head back on him he said, ‘baby?’ ‘Mmm?’ you asked sleepily. ‘I think we’re done,’ he said quietly. You stirred pulling back to place your hand on his chest as you looked at him, your brain failing to register what that meant but when it did all you could say was, ‘oh.’

He held you, his blue eyes sparkling in the low light as his fingers traced along your chin waiting for you to say something. You didn’t know what to say. You were sad it was over sure but more to the point you were worried. Worried you had done something to ruin it.

‘Is it me? Did I go too far?’ you asked making him chuckle. ‘No doll it’s not you,’ he said. ‘So what is it? I mean I thought after Red you said…I thought we were okay,’ you said worriedly. ‘We are,’ he said hoping that if he locked onto the narrative of Red you’d follow, ‘I just…I don’t know. I think the whole thing with Red might’ve been our signal to stop y’know. Maybe we shouldn’t push it.’ ‘You’re probably right,’ you said, your anxieties ebbing. Tonight had been fun but you couldn't deny it had felt different than before though you didn't know why. ‘Are you okay with that?’ he asked. You nodded. ‘Yeah I mean it’s been fun but I’d right have you, us, be comfortable and happy than all of that anyway. You know that right?’ you said. ‘Always,’ he said leaning up to kiss you. You kissed him back, smiling into it which made his brow furrow as you pulled back, ‘what?’ ‘Nothing,’ you giggled, ‘it’s just that I’ve realised something.’ ‘Oh yeah, what’s that?’ Elvis asked amusedly thanking his lucky stars you’d taken the news so well. ‘Well we might’ve closed that chapter but that doesn’t mean we can't find other things to do,’ you mused running your fingers up his chest. ‘You’re right,’ he laughed, ‘can’t have you gettin’ bored on me can I?’ ‘Hell maybe we could actually do it like it was intended and try for a baby,’ you joked though as the words left your lips Elvis’ eyes sparkled. ‘You know that’s not such a bad idea,’ Elvis said making flutter run through you. You hadn't been being serious but at his words you let excitement. Maybe he had a point. This little arrangement had been fun but maybe it was time for the pair of you to think of the next chapter of your life. After all this whole situation had done nothing but prove how much the pair of you loved one another, why not create something out of that love?

‘Really?’ you asked quietly. ‘Why not?’ he shrugged. ‘You really never can say no to me huh?’ you giggled, amused by just how quickly he had bent to whatever you wanted. Even tonight he hadn't lasted. ‘Nope,’ he smiled, ‘how could I? Love ya too damn much that’s my problem.’ ‘Well let’s put that love to good use huh?’ you said. ‘Oh definitely,’ he said kissing the tip of your nose.

ELVIS TAGS

@literally-just-elvis-fics @caitlin1996 @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @daffieapple @lillypink @lettersfromvenus

#My writing #elvis #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader x jerry schilling #elvis x you x jerry schilling #made for the mafia #cant say no

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kikyan · 1 year

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Hello! I saw your writing and I was amazed on how great it is! I was wondering if I could request Yandere Octavinelle x a Mer shark reader that acts all proud and overconfident in human form (even threatening the twins and Azul since technically sharks are natural predators of mooray eels and octopi) but in actual mer form they are pathetic (small and their tail fin is terribly scarred so they are very slow) so they mostly hide.

Apologies for the way over specifics and I hope I am not a bother with my request.

Omg, thank you!! I hope each and every one of you guys knows I love and appreciate all of you!! You're never a bother with your request! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!

I could see Azul get a tad bit annoyed at how you're always so proud. Honestly, who wouldn't? Azul hates the idea of being looked down upon and here you are threatening him? You're already on his list of trying to get a contract with you to reverse the tables (this is when he's overconfident in his ability so ofc he acts proud too). The twins just find it intriguing, Jade probably wants to see what would happen if you got into a fight and Floyd is probably trying to start it. I think Azul has a short temper along with Floyd (maybe not as short as Floyd but then again I don't see Floyd as getting angry, like genuine anger, over things like this) but Azul doesn't like confrontation. Azul enjoys planning your downfall and ideas to get you by his side while also realizing the power he has. Floyd wants to push your buttons and torment you slowly. Jade wants to see you reduced to a pitiful form through a carefully thought-out plan. Honestly, even just acting like hot shit around them is already a risk.

Imagine their surprise, when they see your shark form. Really? Is this the big reveal, the big monster that was going to swallow them whole? Pathetic. Azul would laugh, mock you even. I think Floyd mentioned how in the water Azul poses a huge threat because of his eight limbs and how he can actually move them individually? I wanna say this happened during the bean fest event? Regardless, this is embarrassing! I think Floyd and Jade would taunt and tease you relentlessly. They have more reason too. At first, they let you get away with it but now Floyd is there making your life hell. Pushing you down the stairs Trey style, he's snatching your homework, he's pulling your hair and pinching you. Jade is the worst, he's getting the others to start picking on you, and after a run-in with Floyd, you're scared to see Jade with a sickening smile on his face. He's following you and he may even join in the physical torment (they're not practicing WWE moves on yall sorry I just have to clarify that) like grabbing your wrist to tightly to the point you think he may snap it in half. Floyd comes around the corner and grabs the other one as they drag you to the monstro lounge to see Azul. I think they let the torment get so bad, not just Floyds but the others who have started thanks to Jade's help that you have no choice but to turn to Azul for a contract. What's this? Do you need help from the same people you threatened to jokingly eat and how you said you were better than them? Gee, I don't think we have a contract like that but I'm sure Azul can whip something up no? Then BAM! He has you in a contract that the bullying will cease and stop from the others as long as you become theirs. It's a good deal really, they could have you working tirelessly at Monstro Longue dealing with customers. Maybe even cooking and burning your beautiful hands. Though you're safe from the others, you're not safe from them. Now they really WILL practice their WWE moves on you.

#yandere octavinelle #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade x reader #yandere asks #yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere headcannons #yandere imagines #yandere twisted wonderland

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ventiij · 9 months

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Helllooo. This is my first time asking for requests but I've run out of Cyno ffs and one shots and am actually going insane(/lh) so can I request a Cyno Modern ff bf/husband ff playing TCG with yn.

ofc!! I’m so excited to post this since it’s my first req, so there you go <3 (might’ve gotten a lil too general, sry in advance)

modern au!Cyno x reader playing genius invokation TCG

you and Cyno have been toghether for a looong, long time. he’s the perfect boyfriend: you never know which one of you gets home first, but if that’s him, he’s already doing chores around the house as soon as he gets there; he might not be as good as you are, but he’s trying! he loves you so much, the last thing he wants is you overworking, also because that would mean less time with you.

in his free time, he always takes care of you by making sure you’re drinking enough water, had complete meals, healthy sleep, etc and he really likes to get rid of that boredom circling you, by playing table games, videogames and of course card games such as Genius Invokation TCG.

at first, you trusted you could beat him, but oh, it’s when he totally DESTROYS you that you come to realize you were definitely wrong.

in that moment, he decided to dedicate more time to help you out, and you really appreciated it. when it was time for you to practice with him (he beat you four times in a row), you saw your level compared to his and that made your next goal to win a duel against him.

you asked most of your friends to help you and, after a lot of fatigue, you got better and felt brave enough to duel him once again. after a quick match, you achieve victory! you cheered and Cyno encouraged you (he let you win on purpose but after a couple hours he felt bad and told you the truth).

now though, you got even better at playing Genius Invokation TCG, so you’re often challenging your s/o to it. you guys’ duels are usually very calm and strategy-based, make it coming up with new decks and give them a shot, or simply having fun toghether.

other times the atmosphere can get really competitive after saying things such as: “if I win, we’re watching that show, later.” “sure, but if I win instead, you have to hold me ‘till I fall asleep.” yk yk.

Cyno will always win if he’s in the mood to get something outta you this way (he’s a pro, what can we do), but, if you’re lucky, he’ll have mercy and let you win.

overhall nice experience if you know how to properly play, otherwise…

fin

bonus: imagine if he got jealous that someone else helped you learn how to properly play LMAOO

#cyno x reader #cyno bf #cyno oneshot #cyno fluff #cyno ff #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader

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440mxs-wife · 4 months

Text

Treasure Quest, Chapter 10: New Adventures (FIN)

Pairing: Captain Dean x Rhaya Payton (OFC) Other Characters: Benny, Sam, Jessica, and Baby John Winchester, Jack (mentioned). Lord Darius Payton, Connor (OMC's), Captain Keira, Darcy (OFC's).

Word Count: 5351

Warnings: Some Angst, Lovers' Quarrel, Misunderstanding, but there's a HAPPY ending (I promise)!🥰

Series Summary: Rhaya Payton is the daughter of the governor of Ochana. She grew up listening to her father tell her stories of pirates and treasure maps. At a gala one night, her stepmother, Carissa, announces Rhaya’s engagement to Ashton Kane, a wealthy nobleman. Only problem is, no one checked with Rhaya first. After overhearing plans made by her fiancé, Rhaya decides to go on the run and stows away on Captain Dean’s ship. What will happen when he finds her?

This Chapter: So, who is the Duke of Rosevale....?

Rhaya's troubles continue as her father has arranged a diplomatic reception for the new Duke of Rosevale. Unfortunately, meeting the duke doesn't go anywhere near as well as planned and leads to a verbal confrontation. A meeting in the courtyard later in the evening may hold the key to a resolution between them and a possible new adventure. Can their love be saved? Tune in to find out....Enjoy!

A/N: To all of you who have read, liked, reblogged, commented, or interacted with this story in any way: thank you. We have reached the end of the story for our favorite captain and governor's daughter. It has been my pleasure to bring this story to life for you, and I thank you all from the bottom of me heart. ❤️

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rhaya entered her bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind her. She slipped off her shoes and flopped backwards onto her bed, then heaved a deep sigh. As she stared at the ceiling, she reviewed a conversation she'd had with her father about some affairs of state.

Earlier in the day, her father had requested a meeting to inform her of an upcoming diplomatic function. The event was scheduled to occur in less than two weeks, and he wanted it to be a formal one. This meant she'd have to be on her best behavior, which she wasn't really keen on, considering her current emotional state.

The purpose, he'd said, was to introduce the new Duke of Rosevale to his inner circle of associates. He also planned to announce him as Ochana's newest ally and business partner. Thus the need for a more ceremonial approach, and his reason for including her in the process.

While he explained the situation, her father watched as she fought to keep her facial expression somewhat neutral. He knew of her dislike for official functions, and her feelings of sadness at her captain's prolonged absence. In the end, her sense of duty won out, and she promised her father she would conduct herself properly when she met the new Duke of Rosevale.

***

Three days before the duke's arrival, Rhaya had just returned from an appointment where the finishing touches were being placed on her gown for the gala. She was walking towards her bed to relax for a bit when there was a knock at the door. After taking a seat at the foot of the bed, she called out "Come in!", and the door opened with Darcy on the other side. She was giddy with excitement, which raised Rhaya's curiosity, though she couldn't quite muster the same level of enthusiasm.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Our guests arrived in port early, and I was sent by your father to bring you to the main hall to meet them," Darcy explained. "He said to make sure you were presentable."

"Ha! That's a laugh. Rarely am I presentable, nor do I want to be, especially not for this Duke of Rosemont or whatever his name is," Rhaya muttered.

"It's the Duke of Rosevale, and your father said you have twenty minutes to get ready," Darcy warned.

"Ugh, fine. Let's go," Rhaya begrudgingly agreed and headed for her ensuite bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, she had quickly washed up, changed out of her pants and tunic, and into a more appropriate pale pink day dress. Darcy fashioned a princess braid across the back of Rhaya's head like a crown, with the rest of her hair left untethered. Her makeup was minimal and neutral in color, except for the pink lipstick.

Upon her arrival in the main hall, she saw her father deep in conversation with a few visitors. There was one man in particular who caught her eye, dressed in dark brown pants, which were tucked into knee-high black leather boots. He was wearing a burgundy-colored, long sleeved tunic with a hem that reached to his mid-thigh. Around his middle was a black belt and a sword hanging from it. From behind, she thought the man looked a little familiar. She shrugged off the notion, figuring she'd learn his identity soon enough.

When Lord Darius spotted his daughter, he called out to her and waved her over to join them. As soon as the visitor heard the name, he stopped mid-sentence and turned around. His eyes brightened when they landed on the woman who had been occupying his every waking thought for the past three months. As she approached their circle, he couldn't help but marvel at how her beauty seemed to have only increased since the last time they'd met.

Rhaya stopped in her tracks when she saw who was speaking with her father. What is Dean doing here? No one told me he was coming back, only that we were hosting the Duke of....her thoughts trailed off. It can't be.... she silently pondered.

Lord Darius' voice interrupted her train of thought. "Ah, Rhaya, there you are. Your Grace, may I present my daughter, Rhaya Payton. Rhaya, please welcome the Duke of Rosevale, though I believe you know him better as Captain Dean Winchester," he explained.

Rhaya caught Dean's gaze and held it for a few tense seconds until finally extending her hand in his direction. "Your Grace," she murmured, giving him a slight curtsy.

Dean's lips twisted into a sly grin as he curled his fingers around hers, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "Lady Rhaya, it is truly wonderful to see you again. May I present my brother, Samuel Winchester, his wife, Jessica, and their newborn son, John. Also with me is my advisor, Robert Singer, and two members of my crew, Master Gunner Benjamin Lafitte, and Ensign Jack Kline."

Lord Darius and his daughter nodded to each of the members of Dean's entourage as they were introduced. Glancing at the faces of everyone, she was met with genuine happiness at seeing her again. Then she remembered her feelings of the last three months that had passed with little to no word from Dean, who had promised to return. "Excuse me," she mumbled before picking up her skirts and turning to leave the room.

"Miss Payton! Miss Payt--Rhaya, wait, please!" he called.

Rhaya was about halfway to the door when she stopped in her tracks. "Wait?? Wait?!? You want me to wait??" she whirled around to face him, glaring with angry, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. "For the past three months, I've done nothing but wait! For you!"

Lord Darius and the others exchanged somewhat shocked and awkward glances at his daughter's outburst of temper. They weren't exactly sure what to do, and they all preferred to be anywhere but there at the moment. "Rhaya, dearest--" he started.

"Papa, I'd like to speak in private with Captain Winchester, the Duke of Rosevale, or whoever he is, please," she spoke, fighting to keep her voice even. Her father nodded, and everyone filed out, leaving Rhaya and Dean alone in the room.

"Rhaya, please let me explain," Dean begged.

She held up her hand to silence him as she walked over to a nearby chair, her arms crossed over her chest. "Do you have any idea what it's been like for me, waiting for you to come back? The longer we were apart and the less I heard from you, the more doubts crept into my head. Some days, they were so loud that I couldn't ignore them, no matter how hard I tried. When you didn't return after two months, I had to concede that they were right, that I wasn't worth it and that you'd changed your mind."

"Sweetheart, I promised I would be back for you. I'm sorry that it took so long, but there was never any 'changing my mind' at any point. I'm here now, for you," he pleaded, taking a seat near her.

Rhaya sighed deeply and shook her head before continuing. "Come on, Captain, I'm not stupid. One look at you, a handsome, heroic ship's captain, off to find buried treasure. You're a true leader, strong, noble, who cares more for those around him than he does for himself. What's not to love about that? I'm sure wherever you go, women practically fall at your feet for even a chance to have something with you."

"But--"

"And then there's me. Only daughter to the governor of Ochana, who is automatically assumed to look down her nose at people. She's spoiled, entitled, unintelligent, with no discernible skills except how to spread gossip and keep up on the latest fashions. No one is falling at my feet for the opportunity to learn anything about me past those assumptions," she shook her head sadly. "Most men are only interested in courting me to get near my father. Their ambitions involve obtaining a slice of his power and influence rather than anything to do with me."

"That's not--"

"So, I hope you can see how I might interpret your delayed return as a change of heart? Realize that I don't occupy your every thought like you do mine? Or how--" she choked back a sob then continued. "How you preferred to return to someone from your past instead of explore the future with me?" she whispered.

"There is no one else, past or present--" he vehemently denied.

Rhaya stood up from her chair. "I know you didn't intend for it to work out this way between us, but maybe it's for the best. Perhaps we should call it like it is and remember the good times we had, formed through an unlikely friendship. We're just too different for this to go any further, and for that, I'm sorry. Good evening, Your Grace." She gave him a watery smile, dipped a quick curtsy, and left him staring helplessly after her.

Dean remained seated, his head in his hands, with his shoulders slumped in defeat. How did everything go so wrong, so quickly? he wondered. He was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Rhaya, to once again feast his eyes on her beauty and finally express his feelings for her. He had not expected his dealings in Alcaria to have taken so much precious time away from her. And now it seemed that such delays had cost him what he wanted most at this point in his life.

From the doorway, he heard the sound of someone clearing his throat. When he looked up, he saw a member of the house staff, offering to escort him to the dining room as soon as he was ready. The man explained that Sam and the rest would soon be shown to the table as well. Dean thanked him and motioned for the staff member to lead the way.

***

Rhaya hastened towards her room, tears threatening to fall from her lashes. As she passed the dining room, she asked a staff member to tell her father that she would not be joining him. When the staff member expressed concern, Rhaya assured her that all was well. She explained that it was only a headache that left her feeling less than herself at the moment. The young lady wished her a swift recovery and promised that the governor would be informed of her absence at dinner.

Once inside her room with the door closed firmly behind her, Rhaya's composure slipped and the tears gave way from her eyes. How did it all go so wrong, so quickly? she sobbed. She should've been overcome with joy to finally see Dean, in person. Especially after the amount of time that had passed without one word from him.

Instead, she allowed her insecurities to get the best of her. She accused him of using her for his own amusement, which she knew in her heart wasn't true. At this point, she wouldn't blame him if he decided she wasn't worth the effort after all and returned to Alcaria without another word. Especially since she'd all but insisted that whatever connection they had was likely to have run its course. Those and other thoughts only served to restart the flow of tears down her face.

As the late afternoon sun gave way to the evening twilight, Rhaya lay on her bed, her eyes fixated on the ceiling. While she wondered if there was any way to fix what was broken between her and Dean, she heard a knock at the door. A spark of hope lit inside her, when she thought for a fleeting moment if her captain was on the other side. She couldn't help the flicker of disappointment that crossed her face when her sister opened the door.

"Missed you at dinner," Keira remarked. Rhaya nodded and mumbled an apology. "Yeah, your father conveyed your regrets to everyone for you not attending, said you had a headache?" Again, a nod, but no verbal response. "Rhy, honey, what's really going on?" she asked gently.

Rhaya heaved a deep sigh before launching into an account of what happened after everyone left the main hall. She explained her feelings to Dean and why she was so upset when he didn't return when promised. "I figured I had to be making it all up in my head, that I wasn't as important to him as he is to me," she confessed. "I thought there was no way I measured up to what he deserves, especially now that he's a duke."

Keira crawled up onto the bed to sit next to her and covered her sister's hand with her own. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but he is in love with you, Rhaya. That means he knows you and has accepted you as you are. I saw it every time he said your name or we told each other stories about you. He drove us all crazy on that treasure hunt, me in particular," she laughed.

Rhaya gave her a glimmer of a smile. "He did? How?"

"Every minute of the day, he bugged the hell out of me by asking me so many questions about you." Keira turned to her sister with a fond smile on her face. "He's the real deal, honey. Besides, he knows that if he hurts you, he has to answer to me," she declared, which caused Rhaya to laugh.

"Do you think I can fix this?" Rhaya asked with hope in her eyes.

"Hmm. I think it's possible. Might involve some groveling, but I have faith that the two of you can work it out," Keira replied with a wink.

***

After dinner, Dean went on a self-guided tour of the mansion, rather than heading straight back to his room. In the process, he found a courtyard and entered through the open double doors off the main hallway. The area felt like an oasis of calm, which was exactly what he needed after the events of a few hours ago.

In the center was a stone fountain, encircled by a ledge for sitting and listening to the bubbling water. Tendrils of jasmine vines climbed the outside walls of the mansion. The white blooms produced a heady but comforting fragrance during the evening hours. Could be useful, should sleep elude me, he thought.

Benny saw his captain leave the dining room while the rest of the group was sipping on coffee, tea, or whiskey. Jess excused herself early because it was time for John's feeding, while Sam remained behind for the after-dinner drinks and conversation. He noticed Dean was a bit withdrawn at dinner, leading him to conclude that the conversation with Rhaya didn't end well.

He watched as Dean lowered himself to sit on the ledge of the fountain, then tilted his head up toward the night sky. "Hey, there you are, Chief. Whatcha doin' out here? You're missin' drinks with Sam and the governor," he mentioned.

Dean laughed softly as he absently trailed his fingertips through the water. "Nah, not my thing. Good for Sammy, though." He heaved a deep sigh and shook his head gently. "Really made a mess of things, haven't I? I was hoping for a chance to clear things up with her, but she didn't make it to dinner. Guess she couldn't even stand to see me across from her at the table," he muttered.

"Chief, don't be so tough on yourself, and try not to read too much into it. Her father said it was a headache, so I'm sure that's all it was. Give her some time, I'll bet she changes her mind once she's had a chance to think about things," Benny replied.

"I don't think so, Benny. She all but flat-out told me that whatever was between us has run its course, that we're not meant to be together. Instead, she'd rather just remember the good times we had," he remarked.

"Is that what you want?" Benny asked.

"Of course not!" Dean blurted. "I want to be with her so badly it hurts. I'll admit, we didn't really get along at first, but once we got to know each other....she's amazing, Benny. Strong, kind, selfless, and I can't help but be captivated by her. She's tough as nails one minute, then sweet and compassionate the next."

Benny's heart went out to his friend. As upset as his captain was, he knew Rhaya was the only one for Dean. "I know you got to know her real well and you two got close, Chief. For that reason and so many others, you can't give up. You have to fight for her, at least long enough to tell her how you feel about her," he advised.

"How can I do that if she won't even give me a chance?" he exclaimed. "You know, as smart as she is, and as beautiful as she is, she also can be so--so--" Dean buried his fingers in his hair and growled in frustration as he searched for the right word.

"Stubborn? Headstrong? Infuriating?" a voice called from the doorway. Both men looked at each other in surprise, because the comment definitely didn't come from either of them. Their focus returned to the entrance to the courtyard to see Rhaya standing there, nervously wringing her hands in front of her.

This was the opportunity that Dean needed, so Benny decided to take his leave. On his way out, he paused in the doorway, locked eyes with Rhaya and gave her a reassuring nod. "Take care of him, chérie," he murmured. His hand gently landed on her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before he disappeared from sight.

"Good evening, Lady Rhaya," Dean greeted with a quick bow, once he'd recovered his composure.

"Good evening, Your Grace," she replied softly. "You know, this is one of my most favorite places on these grounds. I hope you find it as relaxing as I do."

An awkward silence stretched between them as neither one knew quite what to say to the other. Dean was cautious, not wanting to blurt out something and send Rhaya scurrying away from his presence. Meanwhile, she needed answers, but didn't want to sound demanding. To do so would risk closing the door on any prospect of the two of them remaining together.

The two of them paced around the courtyard, deep in thought, only pausing briefly so as not to run into each other. Rhaya decided to take a seat on the stone ledge surrounding the fountain, with Dean following suit almost immediately after her. She kept her eyes on her hands folded neatly in her lap. At the same time, he studied her, trying desperately to find any clues as to her current state of mind.

The tension in air grew thicker with anticipation, until she broke the silence. She reached over to cover one of his hands with her own, but pulled back at the last second. "Dean, I want to apologize for being terribly unfair to you earlier. I'm sure that whatever kept you away from Ochana for so long must have been important. You're a man of your word, and you've never given me reason to doubt that. I'm so sorry for what I said to you," she confessed, still unable to meet his eyes.

"I had hoped for a warmer reception, considering the length of time we spent apart," he replied. "But I understand why you reacted in the way that you did," he hastily added, covering her hands with his own. "Sweetheart, please look at me," he murmured, reaching over to bring her face within his line of vision. "You deserve to be loved and cherished, and I'm sorry if I did anything to make you think otherwise."

Rhaya jerked her head away from his hand, instantly missing his comforting caress. "You don't have to apologize or say that," she replied with a shy smile. "I mean, I know I'm far too opinionated, I jump to conclusions, and I definitely speak without thinking first. Though, I really should work on all of that, because it leads to a lot of apol--mmpf--" Her self-deprecating ramble was cut off when a pair of plump, soft lips connected with hers.

Dean couldn't bear to hear any more disparaging comments made about the woman he loved, not even from the woman herself. So, he chose to resolve the issue in the simplest way he knew, while at the same time declaring his feelings for her.

The kiss started tentatively at first, as if he was giving her a way out, in case she wanted or needed to take it. As her mouth began to move more confidently with his, he could sense her relaxing into the kiss, so he chose to deepen it. He was rewarded when he slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging for entrance and gave a slight groan when she granted it. A small moan of satisfaction escaped from her as their tongues battled for dominance.

One of his hands roamed up her side, from her waist to her back, while his other hand slipped around to tangle his fingers in her hair. A slight pressure to the back of her head gently kept them connected as he devoured her lips in a near-bruising kiss. Rhaya's hands traveled up Dean's chest, until she cradled his neck with both hands. Then her fingers began to twirl themselves around the curled ends of his hair, gently tugging on them.

When the kiss finally broke, they were both panting, each trying to catch their breath from what just happened. Dean leaned his forehead against Rhaya's as he attempted to return his heartbeat to a somewhat normal rhythm. Her hands moved back down to tilt his head up so he could see her eyes and realize the depth of the love she held for him.

"I'm in love with you, Rhaya. Exactly as you are, whether you're outspoken, or whatever, I don't care," he declared. "You're a smart, compassionate, kind, and absolutely beautiful woman who lights up any room she enters. It would mean the world to me if I can call you mine," he added.

"I'm in love with you too, Dean. Exactly as you are, and whether you're a duke or a ship's captain makes no difference to me. And I am yours, as long as you don't mind a woman who knows her way around a ship better than some fancy society function," she remarked with a nervous smile.

Dean glanced lovingly into Rhaya's eyes, his fingertips gently grazing her jawline. "Nah, darlin', I wouldn't have you be any other way. I knew you were meant for me when you threw that dagger at my head, but nailed my hat to the doorframe instead. Ruined a perfectly good hat, I'll have you know," he muttered teasingly.

Rhaya burst into giggles at her memory of that moment. "Great first impression, huh?" she observed sheepishly as she snuggled closer and rested her head on his chest. "I knew that first night you caught me out on deck in my nightclothes. Out of propriety, I was headed back to my room, but you asked me to stay. I'm so glad I did, as it was my first of our many astronomy lessons."

He wrapped his arms around her and sighed deeply in satisfaction when he felt her melt against his body. "Hmm, I remember that," he smiled as he recalled that night. She looked so ethereal that night, with the moonlight giving her strawberry-blond hair a rosy glow as it cascaded down her back.

The two of them stayed locked in each other's arms, with her back leaning against his toned, muscular chest. They sat beside the fountain watching as the moon rose over the hills in the distance. One by one, the stars came into view until there were so many it appeared as though someone painted the heavens in a fine metallic dust. Their excitement grew when a meteor shower began, which sent streaks of light dashing across the inky night sky.

***

After some time had passed, Rhaya pulled herself up into a sitting position and turned to face her captain. "Dean? I have a favor to ask of you," she began nervously.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he inquired.

"Will you....that is, when you....," she stammered, then took a deep breath to calm her frustration with herself before continuing. "After the gala and you return home to Alcaria....will you please take me with you?" she asked timidly.

Half a heartbeat passed before a beaming smile broke out over Dean's face, causing the crinkles around his eyes to appear. "I would be the happiest man in the world if you would return with me to Alcaria," he replied. "I-I was going to ask you, but I wanted to wait until it was the right time. What do you think your father will say?" he wondered.

Rhaya tilted her head in thought at his question. "A long time ago, Keira asked me once to run away with her too, and together we would sail the high seas. I think he would've been supportive of me, had I decided to go then, but I couldn't leave him with Carissa and all of her scheming. She probably would've convinced him to never let me come back," she muttered.

"Fortunately, she's no longer a factor," he smirked. Rhaya matched his grin and nodded, then shifted her position to snuggle further into Dean's chest.

***

The next day, Rhaya asked to speak with her father prior to the gala about an important matter. She met with him alone for afternoon tea while Dean waited outside the doors, in case she needed his support. The longer he waited, the more anxious he grew as he continued to pace out in the hall. His mind drifted to thinking that Lord Darius would forever banish him from Ochana for the mere suggestion of taking his daughter away from her home.

When he could no longer bear to wait, Dean turned on his heel and marched towards the door to the governor's study. Before he could reach for the handle, the door flew open. Rhaya and her father walked out, with the governor pulling him into a warm embrace. "Take care of her," Lord Darius whispered before releasing him. Dean nodded in silent promise to do exactly that and more.

Over the next week, Rhaya set about the task of packing her belongings for her move to Alcaria. She decided to leave behind whatever didn't fit into her largest trunk and one of her duffle bags. Most of her dresses were left hanging in her closet, since she wouldn't have much use for the fancier ones in Alcaria. Newer, more practical garments were already being made and would be finished by the time she left Ochana. Until then, her tunics and trousers would have to suffice.

The evening before his daughter's departure, Lord Darius hosted a gathering for Dean and his crew from The Black Diamond. Keira and Darcy were among the guests, as were Connor and any other members of the house staff wishing to say their goodbyes. Many toasts were made, as were promises of future return visits to the land she'd called home for so many years.

Everyone met down at the docks the next morning for the final farewells. Rhaya promised Darcy that she would come back to Ochana whenever she was able. However, in the meantime, she suggested for her friend to consider accepting Connor's offer to allow him to court her. This brought a deep blush to Darcy's cheeks at Rhaya's advice, followed by a shy glance in the captain of the guard's direction.

The most difficult goodbye was between father and daughter. On one hand, Lord Darius was at peace with his decision for Rhaya to leave the nest and find her place in the world. He knew she had a good man at her side, one who would take the best care of her and treat her the way she deserved.

On the other hand, he would miss seeing her bright smile and loving face every day around the estate. He knew the staff would take the utmost care of him and ensure to the best of their ability that all of his needs were met. The special bond between father and daughter, though, would be impossible to replicate with anyone else. The first few days without Rhaya would be among the hardest, but he knew this was for the best.

Lord Darius gazed fondly at his daughter. In his mind, it was only a short time ago that she was nine years old, deep in her studies but aggressively avoiding her math tutor. Now he marveled at the grown woman before him, of whom he could not be more proud. He held his arms out and she ran to be engulfed in his embrace. "I love you, Papa. Thank you for this amazing opportunity. I'll--We'll come visit as often as we can. Or, maybe we can arrange to host some sort of 'diplomatic function' in Alcaria," she grinned.

He laughed at her solution to enable him to visit her more often. "I'm sure we can work something out, sweet pea. I will miss you, though," he commented fondly as he glanced over in Dean's direction. "He's a good man, Rhaya. I had a rather lengthy discussion with him after you didn't marry Ashton. When the time is right, he knows he has my blessing," he winked.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as her cheeks blushed furiously at the implication of her father's words. "Papa!" she gently admonished. "It's much too soon for that, we're still getting to know each other."

Lord Darius shrugged. "Perhaps too soon, perhaps not. When you know, you know, just like it was for me with your mother. She'd be so proud of you," he responded with a watery smile. "I certainly am proud of you."

"Oh, Papa," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I love you so much," she choked out.

"I love you very much, my darling daughter," he whispered.

Not wanting to intrude, Dean kept a few paces' distance away. As father and daughter gave each other one last embrace, he approached them and stood behind Rhaya, his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry to have to do this, my love, but we really must start our journey," he explained. He turned to Lord Darius with his hand outstretched, only to be pulled into a tight but affectionate hug from the man.

"Take care of each other. And remember, you always have a home here on Ochana," Lord Darius remarked gruffly, trying to hold back his tears at Rhaya's departure.

Dean nodded and gently took hold of Rhaya's elbow to guide her towards the gangplank to board his ship. They walked together, hand-in-hand, and when they reached the top, they turned to face the group on the docks. Dean waved goodbye, while Rhaya blew a kiss to her father before also giving a wave.

Once they were on board, the gangplank was removed and the docking ropes were released. The ship left port and began its return to Alcaria with one more passenger than what they arrived with. Dean wrapped his arms around Rhaya from behind as they stood near the bow of the ship while it sailed towards open waters.

"Ready to start your adventure, my love?" he asked.

"As long as I'm with you, I know every day will be an adventure," she replied with a beaming smile. "I love you, O Captain, my Captain."

"And I love you, my darling," he murmured near her ear.

***

Some years later....

"Grandpapa, will you please tell me a story?" seven-year-old Laila pleaded. She was in her pajamas and nestled under her blankets, but there was no way she could sleep without a story.

"All right, Laila," Lord Darius chuckled. "What shall it be this time, princesses and frogs, knights and ogres, or...." he trailed off with a smirk, knowing what she really wanted to hear.

"Pirates, Grandpapa! I want to hear about Mommy and Daddy's adventures on The Black Diamond!" she clapped. She could never get enough of his stories about her parents, and they were the best. He always injected such enthusiasm in the characters as he wove his tales of their adventures. And he could never resist an opportunity to entertain his granddaughter.

"Are you comfy, sweet pea?" Lord Darius asked. Laila nodded enthusiastically, and he took that as his cue. "Very well then. Once upon a time...."

FIN

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#pirate!dean x ofc #pirate!dean au #treasure quest

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