#fourteen year old me had such a crush on her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steveseddie · 3 months

Text

not so fast

rated: t | cw: none apply | word count: 6,219

tags: steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, accidental kissing, getting together, first kiss, steve is a Disaster in this

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***

Steve is running late for work.

And not just a little late either. More like, catastrophically late.

Like, ‘should’ve left his house ten minutes ago to even hope to make it on time’ kind of late.

Why?

There isn’t just one reason for how that happened- it’s been a series of mishaps that started with his alarm not going off this morning and ended with his car refusing to start.

“Because of fucking course!” Steve groans, twisting the key into the ignition a few more times before giving up.

After a string of creative curses and smacking his palms and his forehead against the wheel multiple times in frustration, he leaves his useless car and goes back to the house. As he crosses his driveway, he tries to think of ways to get himself to work.

First, he thinks of Nancy. He knows she’s giving Robin a ride to work today, but she’s probably dropped her off by now, punctual as she is. He has no way to reach her until she goes back home, and he’s pretty sure she mentioned something about hitting the library after dropping Robin off to do research for one of her articles for The Weekly Streak, so asking her for a ride isn’t an option.

Considering Steve’s only other friends are all fourteen-year-olds with no car and no license, he’s out of any other options pretty quickly after that.

If only he had a bike he could use, but the Harringtons got rid of those years ago. He could call Henderson and ask him to ride his bike here so Steve can take it to work. The kid will probably complain, but he owes Steve for the countless rides to the arcade and to Eddie’s trailer for their nerdy campaigns and-

Eddie!

Eddie has a car!

Eddie is Steve’s friend and he has a car!

After that realization hits, Steve rushes to the phone, dialing the number to the Munson’s trailer, which he memorized at some point during the last couple of weeks.

“Please, don’t be asleep. Please, pick up,” Steve mutters as the phone rings, tapping his foot anxiously against the floor. His eyes flick to the digital clock on top of the TV and he groans. God, he’s so late.

“Ugh, hello?” A sleepy voice asks and Steve sighs in relief. Finally, something going his way this morning.

“Eddie! Oh, thank God!”

“Fuck, man, why are you being so loud this early in the fucking morning?” Eddie grumbles, and Steve feels bad for clearly waking him up. Or he would if he had time to feel bad.

“Sorry, sorry, listen, I need a favor, I need you to pick me up and take me to work, my car won’t start and I’m supposed to be at Family Video in- crap, right now actually.”

“Dude-”

“Eddie, please. I have the keys and Robin can’t get in until I get there and she’s going to kill me-”

“Steve, relax, Je-sus!” Eddie interrupts.

“Please,” he repeats, feeling desperate. “If you do this, I’ll do anything you want.”

Eddie hums. “Anything, huh?” He asks in that low voice that always sends shivers down Steve’s spine. Even now, he can feel them, anxious as he is.

God, he really doesn’t have time for this.

“Munson,” Steve hisses.

“Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I’ll be there in ten.”

Steve winces, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not like he can ask Eddie to disregard speed limits or traffic lights or other cars just so he gets here faster, the last thing he wants is for him to wrap his van around a tree because of him. “Okay, thanks.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Eddie says before hanging up.

Since Steve has ten minutes before he gets here anyway, he gives himself one to get flustered over Eddie calling him that.

Then he uses the remaining nine to make Robin her favorite snack- peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which she claims taste better when Steve makes them. It’s probably an excuse so Steve makes them for her every time, but right now it works in his favor. She’s going to be pissed when Steve shows up late- he can’t even call the video store to let her know he’s on his way! Not when she’s locked outsid e because Steve has the god-damned keys. He hopes the sandwiches will help soften her up at least.

He’s already in the driveway when Eddie’s van rolls around the corner. As soon as it slows down, he jumps in and tells him to “Go!” without saying even saying hello.

Eddie snorts. “Good morning to you too, Harrington,” he says with an amused half-smile, but he starts driving. Eddie isn’t a slow driver by a long shot, but Steve notices that he still steps on the gas a little harder than he normally would, which he appreciates.

He slumps back onto the passenger seat. “Sorry, hi, thanks for doing this.”

“No problem, man,” Eddie says, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look Steve up and down. “Looks like you had quite the morning.”

Steve blows out a puff of air, running a hand through his hair. It probably looks like a mess right now because not only did he not have enough time to complete his routine, he’s also been anxiously running his fingers through it all morning. “You have no idea! First, my alarm didn’t go off so I had to rush through my shower and didn’t have enough time to fix my hair, then I couldn’t find my vest, then my car keys, and when I finally found those, my fucking car wouldn’t start!” He drops his hands on his lap with a huff.

“Sheesh, man,” Eddie says, somewhat sympathetically.

“Yeah!” Steve agrees as his hands start flailing again. “And now, Robin is gonna be pissed at me all day for being late, and for leaving her waiting outside the store.”

Eddie reaches over with one hand, squeezing Steve’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you quickly enough, Birdie can’t stay mad at anyone for long.”

“Um, yeah,” Steve stammers out when Eddie’s hand stays there, on his shoulder. “You’re probably right and I brought her PB&J sandwiches to soften her up a bit, so.” He chuckles, a little shakily because Eddie’s fingers are brushing lightly against his neck.

“See?” Eddie asks, giving Steve’s shoulder a little shake. “Give her those and flash those pretty doe eyes of yours at her, and she’ll forget why she was even mad in the first place!”

Steve shoves his hand away- because it should be holding onto the steering wheel, not because having it on him makes his stomach flip-flop.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, how was your morning, Munson?”

“My morning? Well, Harrington, it was just fine, thanks for asking. I was catching up on some lovely much-needed Zs after band practice ran late last night, but then the phone woke me up. Some guy yelling at me to come pick him up.”

Steve makes a face, chuckling softly. “That guy sounds like an asshole.”

“Nah, he’s actually a very sweet guy. Pretty, too.” He tosses a wink at Steve, who flushes pink. “And you know me, I’m so easy for a pretty face. I was already gonna say yes when he promised he’d do anything if I gave him a ride. No way I could refuse.”

“Well, I’m sure the guy is very grateful,” he says, then wrinkles his nose. “And hopeful that you won’t make him regret promising you that.”

Eddie throws his head back with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Stevie, I won’t ask for anything too embarrassing.”

“Ugh.”

The van falls into a comfortable silence, only the radio playing softly in the background. Steve is surprised that it’s not one of Eddie’s tapes playing, he’s always complaining about radio stations not playing any ‘real music’ and Steve’s witnessed, more than once, the way he dives for the glove compartment to dig out one of his tapes before he even starts the van. He can’t help but wonder if the reason why Eddie is listening to the radio is because he was rushing to get to Steve and didn’t even have time to pick a tape.

Whether it’s the truth or not, it makes a dopey smile appear on Steve’s face, thinking about Eddie not wasting any time looking for a cassette tape because he knew Steve was in a hurry. He also didn’t change out of his pajamas or pause to fix his hair on his way out, Steve thinks as he looks Eddie up and down. He’s currently in plaid pajama pants and an old band shirt with holes around the collar that Steve knows he wears to bed, and his hair is sticking out every which way even more than usual.

He looks cute like that, and Steve’s dopey smile only grows because of it.

“You know,” Eddie starts and Steve jumps, thinking for a moment that he caught him staring, but his eyes are still fixed on the road. “If you want I can take a look at your car? Old Al Munson didn’t just teach me how to hotwire them, you know? Maybe I can fix whatever’s wrong with it.”

Steve blinks. “Really?”

He’s sure that there must be hearts in his eyes right now. He was already dreading having to pay for a tow truck to take his car to the mechanic and then pay to fix whatever was wrong with it. That kind of money would really put a dent in his plans to save enough for a place of his own, so Eddie fixing it for him would be a great help.

“Of course, Stevie,” Eddie says, flashing him a dimpled grin. Yup, definitely hearts in Steve’s eyes right now. “I can drive you home after your shift and take a look at it. I’ll bring Wayne’s tools.”

The visual of Eddie bending over the hood of Steve’s car with a tool belt around his tiny waist pops up in Steve’s mind without a warning, making warmth pool in his stomach.

He shakes his head and focuses on the Eddie in front of him- sweet, cute Eddie who is offering to give Steve a ride and help him with his car. Yeah, that’s really not any better than sexy mechanic Eddie from his fantasies.

“That would be awesome, Eds, thank you,” he says, possibly a little too earnestly.

It makes Eddie a little shy. He winds some of his hair around his finger and pulls it in front of his mouth. “Don’t go singing praises at me yet, I might not be able to fix it.”

“Maybe not, but I appreciate it anyway, the ride back home too,” Steve says softly. If Robin was here she would tell him to tone it down with the googly eyes and the mushy smiles, the way she does when the three of them hang out-

Shit. Robin.

He checks his watch and a whine slips past his lips.

Eddie notices and the van takes on speed as he pushes his foot harder against the pedal. “We’re almost there,” he says reassuringly.

Steve nods, but his leg stays bouncing anxiously for the rest of the drive.

***

Finally, Eddie drives the van into the Family Video parking lot.

Steve looks for Robin in the distance, squinting his eyes, wanting to gauge just how angry she looks. If she looks like she’s about to murder Steve, he might just tell Eddie to keep driving.

When he spots her, Steve’s stomach falls. She doesn’t look angry, but that’s only because she has an apologetic look on her face as she talks and gestures wildly to a family of three. Steve can’t read her lips, but he figures she must be explaining to them how her coworker and best friend is an idiot who doesn’t know how to work an alarm clock and that he should be getting here any minute now so she can murder him but not before she sends them on their merry way with whatever movie they’re here to rent and a bunch of candy and popcorn. On the house, of course.

“Fuck me,” Steve mutters, slumping back against the seat.

They never get customers this early on Sundays. Never.

Go fucking figure.

Eddie also squints his eyes through the windshield and scrunches up his nose at what he sees. “Maybe you can bribe them with PB&Js too?”

Steve appreciates Eddie trying to lighten his mood, but all he can muster right now is a slight huff of laughter. He starts gathering his things, ready to jump from the van as soon as Eddie parks.

“What time should I pick you up?” Eddie asks as he starts slowing down the van.

“Uh, I get off at four,” Steve says, just as he makes eye contact with Robin. She manages to glare at him while keeping her polite customer service face on. It’s impressive. “If Robin doesn’t kill me first.”

Eddie sniggers. “I don’t think she’ll kill you, maybe hurt you, or put Nair on your shampoo.”

Steve whimpers pathetically at the thought. The van slows to a stop. With the keys to the store in one hand and his Family Video vest in the other, Steve pushes the door open. He already has one leg out when Eddie says, “Wait!”

Steve half turns in his seat and gives him an impatient look, but it shifts into a grateful one when he sees that Eddie is holding the Tupperware with the sandwiches.

“Not so fast, sweetheart, don’t forget your bribe,” Eddie tells him with a lopsided grin.

Later, Steve will ask himself why he did what he does next, but the truth is, he doesn’t know.

Maybe it’s because he’s in a hurry and his body is moving faster than his brain. Maybe it’s because he had a shitty morning and Eddie swooped in like a knight in plaid pajama pants and a worn band shirt. Maybe he smashed his head too hard against the steering wheel of his car earlier that morning. Maybe it’s Eddie’s dimples or maybe it’s the pet name.

The thing is he doesn’t know what does it, just that something gets his wires crossed somehow, and before he knows it, he’s leaning over the space between their seats and pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s mouth.

He doesn’t even realize he does it. Not yet.

He just grabs the Tupperware from Eddie’s limp hands, throws a “bye, Eds!” over his shoulder, and shuts the van door.

Robin’s head snaps in his direction as he makes his way across the parking lot, attempting to put on his vest without dropping the keys or the sandwiches. The family is watching him too and luckily they don’t look mad about having to wait- Steve checks his watch- shit, thirty minutes for him to get here.

“Hi, hello, I’m so sorry,” he starts apologizing before he even gets to them. He tosses the keys to Robin, who fumbles to catch them, so he can finish shrugging on his vest. “I’m so terribly sorry I kept you waiting,” he tells the family while Robin unlocks the door and flips the sign so it says Open! “My alarm didn’t go off and then my friend had to drive me ‘cause my car wouldn’t start and I couldn’t find my godda-rn vest!” He corrects himself when his eyes dart to the kid staring up at him. “But none of that matters now! Because I’m here and we’re-”

“Open!” Robin says, sweeping her arm in front of the door with a flourish, kind of like Eddie does sometimes.

Speaking of Eddie, Steve glances over his shoulder and notices that the van is still there.

Which, weird. But right now there’s nothing he can do about that.

Instead, he starts ushering the family inside, putting on his most charming smile. “Come in, come in, we’ll have you out of here in no time!” He says, following after them.

He makes eye contact with Robin over the kid’s head and mouths I’m so sorry, grimacing when she glares at him. But at least she holds the door open for him too, instead of letting it slam on his face, which he probably deserves.

Once inside, Steve helps the family find the movie they’re looking for in record time while Robin starts the computer system. By the time he guides them back to the counter, she’s ready to log it into the system. They give them an extra couple of days to return it, for the trouble, as well as all the Milk Duds and cherry licorice they want. On the house. Then they wave at them as they head out, throwing a “Thank you for choosing Family Video!” for good measure.

When the door closes, Steve spins around to face Robin on the other side of the counter. “I’m so sorry, Robs,” he says with as much feeling as he can muster.

She pokes him in the chest several times with her bony fingers. “You owe me so much! I’ve been apologizing to that family for thirty minutes, dingus!”

“I know! I’ll clean the floors today and I’ll take care of the reshelving and you can take an extra long break and I won’t say anything!”

Robin doesn’t speak, just glares. Steve grabs his Tupperware, his last resort, and pushes it across the counter toward her. “I made you PB&J sandwiches. Your favorite.”

She heaves out a long sigh. “Okay, fine, I forgive you, but you’re doing all of that and you’re letting me pick the movie of the day and you’re watching it with me.” Steve nods profusely. The corners of her mouth twitch up, and even if it’s not a full smile, Steve feels relief flood through him. “Now come on, let’s finish getting this place ready for business, and then we can have those sandwiches and you can explain how you got here so late.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Steve says, giving her a two-fingered salute like he’s seen Eddie do many times.

Speaking of Eddie, Steve squints at the parking lot before following Robin’s lead- turning on lights and straightening cardboard cutouts.

He notices that the van is finally gone, and so is Eddie.

***

“Then I almost left the sandwiches in Eddie’s van!”

Robin gasps dramatically, cradling her half-eaten PB&J against her chest. She’s in a much better mood now, after one and a half sandwiches, more apologizing from Steve and his dramatic retelling of this morning’s events.

“Which would be just my luck today, I swear! But Eddie wouldn’t let me forget them,” Steve says, his smile turning dopey the moment he brings up Eddie. He knows this because he sees Robin rolling her eyes. “So I grabbed them and then I-”

And that’s when it hits Steve. What he did. Almost an hour after the fact.

The fact being- He kissed Eddie.

“Oh God,” he mutters, horrified. “Oh fuck, oh God.”

“What? Are you having a stroke? What is it?” Robin asks, eyes widening in alarm. “Steve?” She waves her hands in front of his face and bread crumbs fly everywhere. Steve knows he’s going to have to clean those, but right now he doesn’t care about that at all.

He lets out a pitiful whimper, his hands flying to his face. “Oh my God!”

“Steve, what?”

“I kissed Eddie,” he says, but the words are muffled by his hands over his face.

He hears Robin let out a sigh. “Steve, my best friend, my platonic soulmate with a capital P. I know we joke about it but I can’t actually read your mind. I’m gonna need you to speak more clearly.”

Dropping his hands onto the counter, Steve’s eyes meet hers, then he says, loud and clear, “I kissed Eddie.”

Robin’s face goes through many different emotions in like, twenty seconds. Shock, confusion, something that Steve dubs her fucking finally, dingus! expression, and then, outrage.

“Wait! So you were late because you were busy kissing Eddie? Steve!” She says on her way to get angry again, but Steve starts shaking his head before she’s done talking.

“No! Robs, I was running late and then I kissed Eddie as I was getting out of the van!”

The outrage disappears and she grins at Steve. “Fucking finally, dingus!” She says, and yup, that’s the one, Steve got it right. She holds her hand up for a high five, but Steve grabs her hand between his instead, shaking his head.

“No, Robin, no, this is bad.”

“Why? You like Eddie!”

“I do! I like him so much, but he was never supposed to find out, and definitely not by me just- kissing him!” He says, shaking his hands wildly and Robin’s too since it’s still trapped between them.

“Okay, first, I need my hand back,” Robin says, extracting her hand from Steve’s hold. “Now, what did Eddie do when you kissed him? Did he kiss you back or did he go like, ahhh and pushed you out of the van?”

“I- I don’t know. Nothing?” Steve tries to remember, but his whole morning was a blur. It’s just his luck that he finally kisses the boy he likes and he can’t even remember it. “He just- sat there. Actually, he sat there for a while because he was still here when we were helping that family. Oh my God, is that bad? Do you think he’s mad? Robs, what do I do?” He drops his head on the counter and feels Robin pat his head. He doesn’t even care that her hand is sticky with peanut butter and jelly.

“You said he’s picking you up later?” Steve makes what’s supposed to be a noise of assent. “Okay, so you talk to him.”

“If he even shows up.”

Another pat. “I’m sure he will and then you just tell him the truth. That you kissed him because-”

“I was having a stroke?” He says, twisting his head to one side so he can look at her.

Robin rolls her eyes. “I said the truth, dingus.”

“But the truth is so embarrassing. So, Eddie, I kissed you because I think you’re cute, I kissed you because you came to my rescue this morning, I kissed you because you called me sweetheart and it might’ve melted my brain. I kissed you because I finally let myself do what I’ve wanted to do for weeks!” He groans pitifully. “What if he doesn’t like the truth, Robin? What if he doesn’t like me?”

“You know what I think about that,” she says and Steve does know. She’s told him that she thinks Eddie feels the same way over and over while trying to convince him to make a move, but Steve doesn’t believe her. “But if he doesn’t, then at least you’ll know. And whatever happens, you’ll have me and an endless supply of romantic movies we can both cry to! And ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream!”

Steve lifts his head fully from the counter and smiles gratefully at her. “Thanks, Robs.”

“Of course, Steve, now come on! I know what movie I’m picking today!” She says, hopping onto the counter and swinging her legs over it, barely missing Steve’s head.

“Ugh, not Children of Paradise again, please.” Steve groans when Robin grabs hold of his wrist and pulls him in the direction of their romantic drama section.

She does pick that one again and Steve has no choice but to go with it, but at least with a two-part movie, he’s distracted for a whole two hours and forty-five minutes so he doesn’t think about Eddie or what he’ll say to him later.

Not that much anyway.

(Okay, maybe he does.)

***

Steve half expects Eddie to not show up, and a part of him wishes he’s right, so he doesn’t have to talk to him yet- or ever.

He’s surprised when, at four o’clock, he sees the van roll into the Family Video parking lot.

That surprise quickly turns into horror and he must make some kind of noise that alerts Robin and makes her follow his gaze.

“I told you he’d come!”

He turns to her with a pleading look. “Please let me hitch a ride with you and Nancy, Robs, I can’t do this.”

“You can, Steve,” she says, putting her hands on his shoulders to guide him toward the door. Steve tries to put up some resistance, digging his heels into the floor, but she puts her whole body into it and manages to get him moving.

“What if I kiss him again?”

Robin snorts. “Maybe try to have a conversation with him first,” she suggests, pulling the door open and shoving Steve through it. “And if it turns out that he wants to kiss you then go for it!”

“But what do I even say?”

“You’re asking me that? Pfff. I’m hopeless, you know that. Just be honest, okay? And call me as soon as you get home to tell me everything!” And with that, she shoves him toward Eddie’s van. Steve stumbles a few steps, thankfully catching himself just before he eats dirt.

When he looks up, he sees Eddie staring at him through the windshield. He probably just saw Steve nearly faceplant in the parking lot- and Steve’s supposed to hope Eddie wants to kiss him after that? Yeah, right.

With a sigh, he starts walking towards the van. He reaches the passenger door sooner than he’d like, and after bracing himself, he opens the door and climbs inside.

“Hey,” Steve says, wiggling his fingers in a wave.

He notices that Eddie’s hands are clinging to the leather of the steering wheel. He gives Steve a smile that looks a little strained. “Hey, Steve.”

An awkward silence falls over them and Steve’s fingers itch to open the door and run away, but he can see Robin chatting with Nancy, the two of them standing next to her car, and he’s sure that if he makes a run for it, Robin will chase him down and drag him back to the front seat of Eddie’s van herself.

So he stays where he is and glances at Eddie, noticing that he looks different from this morning.

“You changed your clothes-” he starts, but Eddie chooses that moment to also start talking.

“Seems like Buckley’s in a better mood-”

They both cut themselves off when the other speaks, looking at each other and laughing a little awkwardly.

Eddie looks down at himself. He’s wearing ripped jeans, a self-made Corroded Coffin shirt, and his hair is pulled back into a ponytail, which allows Steve to see the earrings adorning his right ear. “I did change clothes. I don’t just hang around and do nothing in my pajamas all day. Sometimes, I wear jeans,” he says, making Steve snort. “So, did the PB&J sandwiches work?” He asks, gesturing at Robin across the parking lot. Steve can see her glancing towards the van every couple of seconds. She’s not being subtle.

“They did, but I also had to let her pick this long French drama for movie of the day and let her take an hour-long break. And also apologize like, three hundred times.”

“Damn, Buckley’s tougher than I thought,” Eddie whistles, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “But she let you off the hook?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Eddie nods. “Cool.”

Another silence. This one’s less uncomfortable, but it still feels like something is hanging over their heads. No, not just something.

Steve sighs. Might as well get it over with.

“So,” he says.

“So,” Eddie echoes, flexing his fingers around the steering wheel.

“I kissed you.”

There, he said it. It’s out there.

Eddie inhales sharply. “You did.” His knuckles start to turn white with how hard he’s gripping the wheel. “Um, why did you?”

He remembers Robin’s words. The truth, Steve. Just tell him the truth.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t even realize I did it at first,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on his lap.

“So it was just- what? An accident? You- you didn’t mean it?” Eddie’s voice sounds uncharacteristically small, quiet. Steve risks glancing at him, and when he does, he finds that Eddie has shrunk in on himself. His eyes meet Steve’s for a split second and he looks hurt, like he wanted the kiss to mean something.

And Steve can’t have him thinking that it didn’t. No way.

He turns sideways on his seat, leaning forward, closing some of the distance between them.

“I didn’t realize I did it because I’m so used to thinking about kissing you,” Steve admits. Eddie’s eyes snap up to meet his- wide, hopeful.

“You- you are?”

Steve nods, feeling his cheeks turn pink, but he doesn’t let that stop him. “I’m just usually better at stopping myself from doing anything about it, but today,” He shakes his head, letting out a shaky laugh. “You swooped in to help me and were looking so cute in your pajamas and you were smiling at me with your dimples and I- I just did it, without thinking. So I didn’t mean to do it, but I meant it.”

Eddie’s lip is trapped between his teeth as he chews on it nervously. It’s very distracting, but Steve does his best to keep his eyes off his mouth and on his eyes, which are sparkling as he thinks over Steve’s words. “Holy shit, you did?”

“Yeah, I meant it so much that when I realized what I did, I started panicking.”

Finally, Eddie lets go of the steering wheel, slumping back against his seat, and huffing out a burst of air. “Thought I was the only one who was panicking.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit. “Why would you be panicking?”

Eddie shoots him an incredulous look. “Because! You kissed me and then just- said goodbye like- like you didn’t turn my world fucking- upside down with that kiss, pun absolutely intended. I didn’t know if for you it was like, a friend thing or a mistake or-”

“Not a friend thing,” Steve says, “and not a mistake.”

Eddie lets those words sink in then starts nodding in a way that makes him look like the Chewbacca bobblehead toy he keeps next to his bed. Steve has to bite down on a smile. “Okay. Okay, good, because I want you to do it again.”

“Huh?”

Eddie meets his gaze. “You took me by surprise this morning, but I want you to kiss me again. So I can kiss you back this time.”

Steve’s stomach flips. “Holy shit.” He doesn’t move right away and Eddie looks at him expectantly, not taking it back, waiting for Steve to kiss him again. And what the fuck is Steve even waiting for? “Shit, yeah, okay.”

His hand catches Eddie’s jaw, cradles it with his palm, and he leans over the space between the two seats for the second time that day. Only this time, he moves slowly, committing everything to memory- the way Eddie’s breath hitches when Steve touches his face, the way he goes cross-eyed staring at Steve as he moves closer, the way he whines when their lips brush, not quite touching yet.

And finally, the way Eddie fists the lapel of Steve’s Family Video vest, and in an impatient move, pulls him towards him, crashing their mouths together.

And Steve- well. Steve doesn’t know how he did this already and didn’t remember until an hour later. Because this? He’s never forgetting this.

Eddie’s mouth is warm and soft. There’s a small cut on his bottom lip, no doubt from him chewing on it hard while panicking. When Steve flicks his tongue over it, Eddie yelps, but then he’s tugging Steve even closer by his vest and he’s licking into Steve’s mouth and Steve’s brain goes offline. He gets lost in the kiss. Lost in Eddie. He’s drowning and he never wants to come up for air.

But sadly that’s not something he can do. At some point, he has to breathe so he breaks the kiss but he doesn’t go far. He stays in Eddie’s space, his hand stroking over his jaw. And even if he wanted to move he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere, not with the hold Eddie has on his vest.

“I say this should count as our first kiss,” Eddie whispers, his forehead resting against Steve’s.

“What’s wrong with our actual first kiss?”

“Dude,” Eddie says, and the fact that he’s calling him that while their faces are a few inches from each other after kissing, makes Steve giggle. “The kiss lasted like, a second and you ran away right after!”

Steve’s face scrunches up. “Yeah, maybe it wasn’t my best work.”

Eddie snorts. “It really made me question everything I heard about Steve Harrington’s kissing prowess.”

“My- what? Where did you even hear that?”

Eddie shrugs, making Steve’s hand fall from his jaw to his shoulder where he starts playing with a curl that slipped free from his ponytail. “I used to hang out under the bleachers a lot, and heard many girls gossiping about your mad kissing skills.” He waggles his eyebrows, making Steve laugh. “So imagine my surprise when you go and kiss me like- like my grandma used to kiss me! I thought they had to be talking about someone else.”

Steve’s cheeks go red, but he tries to save some face by asking, “And after that second kiss, do you still think they were wrong?”

Eddie gulps. “Nope.”

“Good,” Steve says with a pleased smile. “Then maybe we can count this as our first kiss, I wouldn’t want my reputation to be ruined when we tell people about this.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. He’s back to chewing on his lip, which is significantly more distracting now that Steve knows what those lips feel and taste like, but right now he focuses on the way Eddie’s eyes start flickering all over the inside of the van, not meeting Steve’s when he quietly asks, “This?”

“What?”

“You said this like, what do you mean? What is this?” He lets go of Steve’s vest to gesture between them. “Is it like, just kissing or do you, uh, do you want to be with me? Like, boyfriends or something?”

“Exactly like boyfriends,” Steve says, making Eddie squeak adorably. “If that’s what you want.”

“Steve, God, there’s nothing I want more,” Eddie says with a dopey smile that rivals Steve’s.

Except it doesn’t because Steve is beaming at the thought of being Eddie’s boyfriend. Of Eddie being his boyfriend. Christ. He would be embarrassed about how giddy he feels if he couldn’t tell Eddie was riding the same high as he is.

“Then I guess I should give my boyfriend that ride home that I promised him, hm?” He asks, leaning back on his seat, but not before he leaves a fleeting kiss on the corner of Steve’s mouth.

And God, hearing Eddie call him that makes Steve feel like he’s floating. “Yeah, you should.”

He leans back too as Eddie starts the van. Steve glances across the parking lot before he drives them away and realizes that Nancy’s car is gone. They must’ve taken off around the time Steve kissed Eddie after Robin realized Steve wouldn’t try to run.

“I promised you something too, if I remember correctly,” Steve says, looking out the window as Eddie drives them onto the main street. His eyes flick towards Steve, one of his eyebrows raised. “I promised I’d do anything if you gave me a ride to work, remember?”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he realizes what he’s talking about. He teased Steve about this all morning and now it’s his turn to return the favor.

“And now that we’re together the list of things I can do got significantly bigger so you might want to think about how you want me to pay you back,” he says with a smirk.

Color starts rising from Eddie’s neck to his cheeks and then to his ears. “I- shit, you want me to think about this while I drive?” His voice goes higher in pitch as he stammers more words out. “Do you want me to crash this fucking van, Steve? Jesus!”

Steve just laughs, relaxing back against his seat. He trusts Eddie not to get them into an accident, but just to be on the safe side, he stops teasing him and reaches for the volume dial on the radio, turning the music up.

He steals glances at Eddie as he drives, thinking how the end of his day did a complete turn from how it started. His morning had been a disaster, especially when he thought he ruined things with Eddie.

But now, Steve is heading home after kissing the boy he likes, and he gets to watch him play sexy mechanic while fixing his car, and he gets to do something about it if he wants- like kiss Eddie stupid against the hood of his car.

So, in retrospect, Steve thinks, his alarm not going off this morning might actually be the best thing to ever happen to him.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #hello this is my 8th fic in three weeks who else is impressed by this because i definitely am #steve harrington #eddie munson #monse writes

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golden-cherry · 1 year

Text

deal - cl16 (7/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Having a movie night is a good way to spend the evening with your roommate. If it were not for the wine that loosens the mouth.

Warnings: TENSION, FLIRTING (you've been warned), alcohol consumption, a Charles picture (badly edited), Cars (movie)

Word Count: 3k

series masterlist

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A/N: I'm sitting here like a fourteen year old whose crush admitted to liking her. that's how I'm feeling about this chapter. feedback is appreciated!

"You're kidding me."

"I would never."

Charles sets his wine glass on the coffee table as you clutch yours, though there's not a sip left in it. "How have you made it through life so far?"

You shrug. Charles looks at you with a look like you kicked a dog and insulted his mother. "I never got around to it."

That's only half the truth. Since you moved out of your parents' house, you'd actually had plenty of time to catch up on that sort of thing. But at some point you had decided for yourself that it was too late to get into it in your early twenties, when you should theoretically be out of it.

Apparently Charles doesn't see it that way. He reaches for the remote control and presses a few buttons until first a castle and then a bouncing lamp appear on the television in front of you. He then presses the stop button and turns back to you. "Get comfortable, because you're not getting off this couch again until we're done here." He places the bowl of popcorn between you on the couch. "And if you fall asleep, you'll have to watch the movie again."

You pour yourself some more wine and take a big gulp. As some of it runs out of the corner of your mouth, you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "Aren't we too old for this?"

Charles raises an eyebrow before pressing the play button. The screen goes black and you hear someone take a deep breath in and out before an off-screen voice says okay, here we go. focus. The grin on your roommate's face grows so wide it almost touches an ear. Speed. I am speed.

"You're never too old for Cars."

Apparently Charles not only works in the car industry, but is obsessed with cars. And even more so with this film.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see that he is silently moving his mouth to speak along with every single character while you sit next to it, eating popcorn and drinking your wine.

The beginning of the film doesn't particularly captivate you. An arrogant car with no team spirit as the protagonist. For sure he would make friends in the course of the film and appreciate them and then he wins his race. Very predictable. Even for a children's film.

All you have to do now is stand there and let me look at you, Lightning McQueen says to the Porsche and you cringe.

"Wow, that's hardly bearable." You put a piece of popcorn between your teeth and wash it down with a gulp of wine.

Charles, who has slid down a little further on the couch, looks at you. "Lightning or the whole movie?" He reaches for his glass on the table.

You spread your index finger from the glass and point it at the screen. "Lightning. That was so slimy. Like anyone would fall for that." As Sally embarrasses the hell out of the red speedster, you thrust your fist into the air enthusiastically.

Charles laughs. "So you're not into that sort of thing to seduce you?" He sips his wine, you shake your head. He props himself up on the seat with one elbow, resting his head in his hand, and stretches his legs out in your direction so that he's almost completely on the couch. He dangles the wine glass casually in his free hand. The film pauses. "How else can you be seduced?"

If you hadn't caught the phone call this lunchtime and the conversation with Joris, both of which involved a woman, you might think that Charles is flirting with you. That maybe he sees more in you than his roommate and friend. And if your ex-boyfriend hadn't spoiled your mood before - or generally not crossed your life - you'd go for it, too.

You glance at Charles. He has taken off his jumper sometime after the second glass of wine and thrown it towards the dining table chair, so that he is lying next to you in his shirt. The strands of his hair stand on end after running his hand through them several times and his cheeks are slightly flushed. His green and otherwise alert eyes seem a little misty, almost certainly due to the alcohol.

And his smile. God, his smile is so crooked and beautiful and his dimples give him something childishly cheeky that makes your heart beat a beat faster.

Is he cute?, you hear Vicky's voice in the back of your mind.

Damn cute, even.

'Definitely not like that,' you finally answer his question, lowering your gaze towards your wine glass. If your mind is already drifting like this, maybe you should stop drinking.

"How then?", Charles asks, his eyes fixed on you.

Unsure, you look at him. "Why do you want to know?" Inwardly, you command your heart to give it a rest. Just because he asks doesn't mean he needs the knowledge for himself.

"Well, maybe one day a guy will come along who doesn't know how to approach you. And then I can give him a hint, if you want," he explains with a shrug, before taking a big sip of his wine and emptying his glass.

You try not to let on how much his answer hits you. Somehow you hoped he would want to know that for himself, in case he decided to approach you at some point. But apparently you haven't been listening to Charles properly for the last few hours.

That's what friends are for, after all.

You're my friend.

For not being a good friend to you.

And friends who live together fight in between.

Inwardly you slap your forehead with your palm. The wine is definitely to blame for your thoughts.

"When you remember little things," you finally answer Charles' question and set your glass down on the table, which Charles seems to take as an invitation to top up, and before you can do anything about it he has refilled your glass.

"Little things?" Charles lies back in his comfortable position and eyes you.

You nod. "Yes. Like the fact that I think peonies are much prettier than roses, or that I prefer muffins to cupcakes. Little things like that, that define me." You shrug. "It just shows that the person has been paying attention and cared about me."

Charles nods, and you think he glances briefly at your almost empty wine bottle before reaching for the remote again. "Good to know."

The film continues and you decide that little blue Guido is your favourite character. As Lightning McQueen pulls yellow Betsy across the road and chats to Luigi and Guido, you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

"Kind of strange to hear Formula One mentioned."

You notice Charles stiffen beside you, but his gaze remains forward. "Why?"

You reach - despite your brain vehemently telling you not to - for your glass. "Well, it's an animated film and the fact that Formula One is mentioned makes it kind of real. Although it's not. You know what I mean?"

"Do you watch Formula One, then?" asks Charles a counter-question, without answering yours. By now he is looking at you, but you can't interpret the expression on his face.

As you shake your head, he seems to relax a little. For whatever reason. "No. I used to watch it with my grandfather. Back when Michael Schumacher drove for Ferrari. We watched every race and cheered for the red team." You take a sip. "I lost sight of it at some point."

"Do you think you'd still be a Ferrari fan now if you'd stuck with it?" your roommate asks. Why he's so interested in it, you don't know.

You point to the two Ferrari fans from Cars and smile. "Isn't everyone a Ferrari fan somehow? Even if they're not?" You turn back to the film and continue sipping your wine.

Which is definitely not the best idea, because it seems to cloud your thoughts and loosen your mouth, because when Lightning decides to help Radiator Springs, it just bursts out of you. "Lightning is hot."

Charles, who has just taken a sip, chokes and nearly coughs his guts out. When he has calmed down, he looks at you, distraught. "Excuse me?"

"Yeeeees." You turn a little in his direction and pull your legs to your chest. You're sitting opposite each other now, except that Charles is lying down. "Not so 'wow, I'd like to fuck him'-hot. But his vibe makes him hot."

Charles wiggles his eyebrows. "I was once told I looked like him."

You have to laugh out loud, and you reach into the popcorn bowl once and throw it at him, laughing. He's not that quick to open his mouth to catch the pieces, but he gathers them up off his shirt and puts them between his teeth, grinning.

"Why are you laughing like that? Someone actually said that once! Don't you believe me?"

You realise that the wine has gone to your head, because you can hardly stop laughing. You can hardly breathe and tears spring to your eyes, which you wipe away with the hem of your jumper. Your stomach hurts and you force yourself to breathe in and out deeply. "No, I believe you. But Lightning is just hot, and you're cute. There's a difference between the two."

Your sober self, which is napping somewhere deep in your brain, startles from its slumber and would love to slap you for it.

Charles cheeks turn even redder and somehow the hem of his shirt seems very interesting because he rubs it between his thumb and forefinger before looking at you. "So you think I'm cute?"

This time he is quicker and catches the piece of popcorn you throw in his direction with his mouth and chews on it with relish. "Oh, come on. I'm definitely not the first one to say that to you," you try to somehow talk your way out of it. "I'm probably just the first to say that without flirting with you. My statement is to be considered purely objective."

"Objective, then?" He sits up a little straighter. "What would it look like if you were flirting?"

You put your wine glass down on the table and decide to actually let it go for today. You've definitely said too much, which you'd almost certainly regret tomorrow, and just thinking about how weird things might get in the morning makes your blood rush to your ears. So you reach for the popcorn. "I'm not doing that to you."

Your roommate raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Why? Are you that bad?" he quips.

You shake your head playfully. "On the contrary. I'm so good at it, you'd fall in love with me instantly," you joke, and have to grin, but Charles doesn't return it.

"Don't worry," he replies without taking his eyes off you. "It takes more than that to make me fall head over heels in love with someone."

You'd love to ask what exactly it takes, but why should you care? You're friends, he's made that clear. And you should definitely get it through your head. In your drunken estimation, the line of friendship you're walking right now is clearly too narrow for your liking.

You purse your lips and watch the film in silence. The mood has changed, no longer as easy-going as it was a few minutes ago. You would like to say something, but you don't know what, so you sit still.

When you reach the point in the film where Lightning pushes the King across the finish line - against your expectations - to finish third in the Piston Cup, you can't stop the sob that leaves your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye you see Charles looking at you. And then all the dams break.

"How can a film about cars - about cars, Charles - make me cry like this?" You wipe away your tears. "This isn't normal. What's the point? It's a movie for kids, for fuck's sake."

Charles' smile is gentle. "No swear words, please. The film is my favourite."

"The film is first class." You try to breathe but hiccup as a result and Charles has to laugh slightly. "Oh, shit. Do kids even understand how important the message is? That it doesn't matter if you win or not as long as you do the right thing and have your friends around you?"

"There are two more parts, by the way. We can watch those too if you like," Charles suggests and he looks a little offended when you shake your head and get up from the couch.

"Let me process this movie first and then we'll see." You grab the empty wine bottles and glasses to take them to the kitchen. Charles grabs the bowls and you put the dishes in the sink. Neither of you would manage to wash them properly yet and with a single glance you silently agree to clean up the rest of the living room in the morning.

You go together to the bathroom where you get ready for bed. You are brushing your teeth when your gaze catches his in the mirror. You smile at him. "But I would love to watch the films with you. I had a lovely evening, if that wasn't clear." You spit some excess foam into the sink. "Thank you for that."

Charles sticks his thumb in the air and washes his mouth out before answering you. "Anytime." He places his toothbrush in his cup. "I haven't had this much fun watching a movie in ages." As he looks at you, his gaze goes through your skin and bones. "Thank you for forgiving me. I couldn't bear it if you were angry with me."

As he combs his hair with a brush - yours - you rinse out your mouth as well. It's so mundane the way the two of you get ready for bed next to each other, as if you've grown up together and not as if you've only known each other for exactly one day. This familiarity between you should feel strange, but you have to admit yourself that nothing has ever felt better.

"I don't think I can stay mad at you for long." You tie your hair into a braided pigtail, which takes a little longer than usual because of the wine. "I like you far too much for that."

You don't wait for his answer, but leave the bathroom, grabbing your camera and phone for a moment. "Do you have your AirDrop on?" you ask him. "So I can send you the photo."

"Oh, yeah. Hang on a sec." He rummages around among the cushions on the couch for a moment until he pulls out his phone and taps away on it. You look at your screen, and see "CL iPhone" flashing up. You press his name and the picture your camera automatically sent to the phone app is now sent to Charles. He looks at it for a moment. "I look so good."

"Don't get too carried away," you laugh and move towards the bedroom door while Charles gets his bedding from the wardrobe in the hall. You watch him for a moment as he gets his things ready. "Good night, Lightning."

His smile is so gentle you could melt. "Good night."

After closing the bedroom door behind you, you slip into your sleeping clothes and climb under your duvet. With your phone in your hand, you lie down on your side. You release the key lock and Charles' picture appears.

He is right. He does look good in it.

Just as you are about to plug your phone into the charger and put it away, a message pops up on the screen.

CL iPhone would like to share a photo

Surprised, you click on "Accept".

You giggle and think about sending a picture back, but don't. "You can sleep in your bed tomorrow," you shout across the flat and receive a "Thank you!"

Grinning, you snuggle into your pillow and force yourself not to stare at the picture he just sent you. It's almost cheeky how he can still look so good after such a long day and a bottle of wine.

You put your phone next to your pillow and turn onto your back. To cope with this situation, you have to draw clearer lines. And lock away the thoughts that are running around in your head in between.

You have a crazy ex. And there's something going on with Charles too, although you don't know what exactly. It definitely wouldn't be the right time for either of you to develop feelings for someone. And as often as he's referred to you as his friend, you want to spare yourself the shame of falling for someone who doesn't want you.

You put your forearms over your face.

You have known each other for twenty-four hours. How can someone be so etched in your mind after such a short time?

You blame your emotional state on the wine, close your eyes and try to think of something else. Of cute penguins, puppies, sheep. But the thoughts circle and circle and always find their way back, as if they only know this way.

Always back to Charles. Charles. Charles. Charles.

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc one shot #f1 #Charles Leclerc fanfiction #Charles Leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

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starkwlkr · 11 months

Note

Hiii! okay maybe teen mathéo likes a girl so he could talk to charles about it and ask for advice a little father son moment would be cool.

numbers | charles leclerc

hello lovely anon! thanks for the request! for this imagine, I’m going to include mikey and demri schumacher. they are characters that belong to @cs55version from their mick series that i am absolutely in love with!!

I JUST STAY IN MY ROOM TOO LONG BUT I FINALLY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND SHE’S THE BOMB — numbers by tempered

While the media saw Ruby Leclerc as the loud, but funny child of Ferrari driver, Charles Leclerc, they sometimes forgot about Mathéo Leclerc, the shy and quiet boy. It wasn’t a bad thing (Mathéo’s exact words). The boy liked not being in the spotlight.

He enjoyed art museums and going to see musicals with his mother and grand-mère. But there were sometimes when the media did question whether or not he would follow in the footsteps of his father. From a young age, Mathéo decided not to pursue a career in formula 1 and his family respected that.

Even the kids at school would ask him when he would start karting. He would always answer with “I’m not going to be a driver. Ask my older sister.”

He grew tired of people at school always asking him about Ferrari, his father and uncle, asking for paddock passes. It was always the same people, people he never even talked to. But there was one day when a girl who had just moved to Monaco came up to him during lunch.

Mathéo’s usual friend, Robin, was sick so he remained home. Now it looked like Mathéo didn’t have any friends and sat alone during lunch.

“Hi. Is it okay if I sit here?” The girl asked, pointing to the chair across Mathéo.

“Yeah, it’s okay.” He replied then went back to eating his sandwich that his mother had made him.

“I’m Giselle.” The girl introduced herself.

“My name is Mathéo, but with an h in between the t and e. A lot of people forget about the h.” He explained.

“Oh, okay. Mine is with two l’s so it’s not like the supermodel’s name, you know the one that was married to Tom Brady?” She asked.

“I don’t know who Tom Brady is, but I know who Gisele Bündchen is. My maman had dinner with her last week.” He said casually. “Wait, you don’t have an accent.” He quickly noticed.

“I’m from America, but my mother’s side of the family is from here. My mom got a really good job offer so here we are,” Giselle explained. “My mom has about of an accent though. She was born here but left when she was ten I think.”

Mathéo had a crush on a girl before. Her name was Eloise. She was the sister of the most popular girl in school so when Eloise asked Mathéo out to the movies, the boy thought it was just some kind of prank.

Giselle seemed nice, she listened when Mathéo had something to say, laughed at his jokes when he made one and she didn’t know of Mathéo’s last name so at least he didn’t have to worry about that yet.

As the school day came to an end, he walked back home only to find Mikey and Demri Schumacher and his sister eating in the kitchen while his mother was on the phone talking.

“Hey, Théo! Missed you.” Demri ruffled his hair as he passed by her to get to the refrigerator.

“You can keep him if you want. I see him all the time.” Ruby teased.

“Maman! Ruby wants to give me away to the Schumacher’s!” Mathéo yelled. He ignored the laughs coming from then teenagers and grabbed a juice then walked out the kitchen.

“Ruby, what did I say about trying to sell your brother?” Y/n groaned from her spot in the sofa.

“Uncle Mick won’t mind having him around!”

“Hi, maman. Is papa around?” The fourteen year old boy asked shyly. He needed his father’s opinion on Giselle.

“He’s in our room, baby. He might be asleep, but you can go check.”

“Oh. I’ll let him sleep then. I’m going to my room.” Mathéo said. He knew how hard his father worked so he rather wait to have a conversation with him. He walked up the stairs to his room and closed the door behind him.

Y/n could see the defeated face on her boy. “Mom, I’m going to call you back. Bye.” She hung up the phone. She got up and walked to her and Charles’ room where he was sleeping peacefully on their bed. He had just gotten back from Belgium and he decided he wanted to have a nap before dinner.

“Charles, sweetheart,” Y/n gently shook his body to wake him up. Charles groaned as a response. “Mathéo wants to talk to you. I have a feeling it might be important.”

“What time is it?” He asked, still not opening his eyes.

“Almost dinner time so you have to get up.”

Charles sighed and sat up in his spot. “Where’s my boy?”

Mathéo was in his room working on his art project. It was a show box diorama of his favorite memory, which was the day of his birthday when all of his family from both sides made it to his party. As he was putting a toy birthday cake in his box, he heard a knock on his door.

“It’s open!” He said, still concentrated on his project. In came Charles with a tired face, but he didn’t care. His son needed him and he was here to listen.

“It looks very nice. Is that Uncle Arthur with frosting on his face?” Charles pointed at a paper drawing of the whole family. Arthur had been drawn with blue marker ‘smeared’ on his face to resemble the frosting of the cake that Charles had thrown at his face the day of the party.

“Yeah, it was kind of hard to find the right shade of blue but I made it work.” Mathéo said, not looking up from his work.

Charles nodded and walked over to the boy’s bed and sat down. “Maman told me you wanted to talk.”

Mathéo finally looked up and slowly turned his chair to face Charles. “But you’re tired. We can talk later-”

“Théo, I’m not tired. I’m okay, now tell me, is someone bothering you in school? Are your grades bad? If it’s about grades then I’m not mad because my grades were not good. Arthur and I used to skip class because of karting so-”

“It’s not about grades. I’m doing well in school. Promise you won’t laugh at me.” Mathéo said quietly.

“Why would I laugh? I’m your papa.”

“Just promise me.”

Charles held out his pinky finger. “I promise I won’t laugh,” Mathéo nodded and was about to speak but Charles stopped him. “No, you have to do the pinky promise. This is serious.” Mathéo chuckled and laced his pinky finger with his father’s then let go.

“Okay, so I was sitting in my usual table during lunch and then this girl comes up and sits with me. Robin wasn’t with me because he’s sick so I thought she felt bad for me because I was sitting alone. But turns out she’s new to Monaco and to the school. We talked and I have decided that she is the coolest girl I have ever met and she doesn’t know I’m your son!” The boy explained. “And she laughed at my jokes, I think I’m in love.”

Charles’ lips turned into a smile. His son had a crush.

“Well that’s a big word for you. She seems nice. What’s her name?” Charles asked.

“Giselle but with two l’s. Even her name is pretty. But I don’t want to seem like a creep and ask her out. How did you ask maman to go on a date with you?”

“Your maman was not an easy person to ask out. The first time I asked her, she said no and I respected her decision. A month later, she was in Monaco and we got lunch with a couple of friends and I asked her again and she said yes. I wanted to take her to dinner but she said that was too boring for a first date so we signed up for a cooking class to make pasta but it was in Italy so we went to Italy.” Charles explained. He was never going to forget that day.

“Why Italy? Does Monaco not having pasta classes?”

“They do, but your mother hadn’t been to Italy so I took her. It’s became a tradition now. On our anniversary, we go to the same cooking class and make pasta. You would think my cooking skills would improve by now, but at least we have maman to help.”

“Maybe I can take Giselle to a cooking class in Italy.” Mathéo suggested.

“How about we start with watching a movie in the local theater?”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #anon #inbox <3 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #baby leclerc series teen edition

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little-pondhead · 11 months

Text

[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]

…

It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.

Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.

"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"

Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"

"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"

Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."

Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"

"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.

"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"

The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."

"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.

Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"

...

"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.

"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."

"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"

"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."

Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.

Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.

So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.

Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.

Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.

Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.

But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.

Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."

Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."

"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!

Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.

Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.

Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??

...

Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.

Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.

Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.

When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.

It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.

With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.

Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.

"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.

"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.

It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.

Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.

Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."

The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.

Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."

The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.

"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."

"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."

Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"

Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.

-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-

Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.

"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"

-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-

Grim hissed.

-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-

"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"

Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."

Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."

-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-

"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."

Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"

-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-

Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."

"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."

"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"

-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-

"I'm what?"

"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."

Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"

"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."

"I would never-"

"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."

"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?

"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."

Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."

Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"

"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.

What the fuck.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #kinda strayed away from the prompt #and that's why its a separate post not a reblog #long post #not beta read #no beta we die like danny #pondhead writes #this leans into more of a ‘Sam did it on purpose but said it was an accident’#Tucker read the vibes from all the way in Amity and the other two just roll with it #Tucker: we can trust him #Sam: here’s our entire life story then #Danny: I hope you don’t mind us info-dumping :)#Danny will eat anything #he’s a growing boy! (hopefully)#he wanted to look like Dorathea when she’s a dragon #I cannot stress enough I don’t know shit about dc #so if someone is already in charge of the upper east side #then shut up Sam is their boss now #not continuing please don’t ask I will cry #someone else is free to take over from here #it’s literally just brain vomit to get myself going

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sweetyluvs · 11 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ vanilla kiss

ellie williams x fem! reader

the familiar laughs that echoed off Joel's front porch caught Ellie's attentions immediately.

her eyes shook from the two conversing Jesse and Dina to the unseeable side of joel’s house, her brows scrunching in the process.

You had said you were heading to sleep, excusing yourself a little more than a hour ago, at 7:30— and Joel had been in his house since around 6:00. Ellie swallowed nervously when she looked back to her two friends. “I’m gonna go, guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.” she announced, earning two smiles and farewells. “Okay, see ya’.” Jesse smirked, glancing to dina who rolled her eyes.

Ellie walked off, a little more speed in her step than she anticipated— the sound of laughter from afar got louder and louder with each passing of her foot in front of the other, creating her curiosity to become unbearable.

finally, after what felt like a millennium, she finally reached the side of the porch.

You sat beside Joel, smiling wildly and laughing as your eyes were trained on a leather book in the palms of his hands; he was pointing something to you— and amused smile on his face as well.

Ellie’s brow rose, an unexpected drop of sweat collecting on her forehead before she took a step onto the wooden floor.

The creak of the old wood attracted both your and joel’s attention to the cause of the sound; and having both of your eyes on her so suddenly send the single ball of sweat to turn into a tsunami engulfing her body.

“Ellie! we were just talking about you.” you said softly, sending joel a mischievous glance when he drown his smile out by taking a sip from his Coffee mug.

“you were..?” she skeptically asked, stepping forward and closer to you both, reaching the railing and leaning on her hip.

“Yes, Joel was showing me some things from when you were younger,” you amused, brushing some hair out of your face in a pitiful attempt to hide your widening smile.

Ellie’s heart dropped. She knew she was an.. interesting fourteen year old, and the last thing she wanted was her crush to see her in that time.

“huh?”

“Joel was showing me some cute pictures of you from when you were fourteen.” You laughed, cheeks turning rosy from the look on Ellie’s face.

“Now— she asked, alright? I only did it ‘cause she asked.” Joel confirmed, clearly trying to defended himself from Ellie’s possible wrath. you laughed loudly, covering your mouth shortly after. “I did ask; guilty. But ellie, you were so cute!”

Ellie covered her eyes with her hand, ducking her head to avoid eye contact as she huffed.

“It’s late— shouldn’t you guys be asleep already?” she murmured out, not missing your laugh.

“oh ellie, now you sound like joel!”

At that, she uncovered her eyes and sent you an unamused look, causing your smile to only widen. “But she’s right, I have patrol in the morning so i should probably check in with Jesse and head to sleep.” You remarked, sending joel a happy smile as you sat up from your chair.

“We should do this more. for an old man, joel, you’re fun to hang out with. definitely more fun than these kids.” you point to Ellie, and joel laughs.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow.” You say, waving bye and walking of his porch. Ellie sent joel a glance before following after you, catching your shoulder. you turned to her, hands intertwined behind your back as you both locked eyes.

“Can.. I walk you home?” she questions quietly, you smile, nodding. “that would be nice.”

The silence between you both was awkward, hearts beating in an unknown rhythm- yet comftorble, warming.

You tried to ignore how every few seconds you could see her head turn towards you, seemingly tracing your face before quickly looking back down. trying to contain your smile didn’t work in your pleasure when a small laugh escaped your lips upon catching her staring.

“what’s so funny?” ellie snarks, a blush raising to her cheeks, you could tell she was trying to make it seem like an angry flush.

“You.”

she groaned, her hands coating her face quickly, though failing to hide her beat red face. You nudged her shoulder once your house came to view, smile twitching.

“You spaz.” you laughed out, watching intently as ellie continued to walk blindly. “will you.. ugh.” she huffed, uncovering her face and angrily crossing her arms.

“relax. I’m here, anyways.” You announced, pointing to your house who’s coming to view from the trees. “Thanks for walking me, els.”

Ellie swallowed harshly, nodding quickly. “Actually— it’s.. more polite to take you to the door, right?” her fact came off more as a question, voice trembling nervously. You rose a brow, eyes staring through her. “Polite? what happened to ellie? where’d she go?” you teased, playfully checking behind her and behind yourself, joking going down the drain when you only received an eye roll from her instead of a laugh.

“oh— shut up.” she pushed your laughing form, quickly walking past you. You caught up, reaching her pace and arriving at your door rather quickly.

She stood beside you, her lips squeezed shut awkwardly when you reached for the door handle. “Thanks, ellie. Goodnight.” you said, smiling at her.

“wait—!” your attention flew to her again, as she stopped you from entering.

“I.. I have to tell you something.” She announced, sweat falling off her like melting ice, blush coating her face whole. you tried to fight the grin at her obviously nervous nature, simply wiping off your smile smoothly and nodding for her to continue.

Ellie inhaled; fiddling with her two hands, her eyes darting anywhere but you. Yes, ellie was awkward— excruciatingly so, yet, you’ve never seen her like this.

“I.. I..” she was completely tongue tied, her brows furrowed, lips being licked over and over, her teeth biting her cheek. you watched; suspicious.

“are you.. okay?” you question, stepping towards her, eyes scanning her. “Yes!” her head shot up, eyes meeting yours before darting down upon seeing your surprise face. “Yes, i’m fine, i just.. I just want to get this off my chest..”

you nod, your arms crossing. another inhale came from ellie before she straightened her back, a view cracks could be heard— you held back a grimace.

“I.. I like.. you..?” she confessed almost as a question, her jaw so tight you were surprised she could speak.

Your eyes blew wide, jaw surely falling open. you? You’ve liked ellie since the first week you had the blessing of meeting her— her auburn hair, her snarky personality, beautiful eyes and strong nature, it allured you, like moth to a light.

“what?”

“I like you— I.. never mind.”

she went to chicken out and run away, but this time you caught her arm. you grabbed harshly, whipping her towards you— and before she could protest, you smashed your lips to hers— a surge of passion, tender yet fierce, overwhelmed you. Ellie surrendered to the intoxicating pull of desire, melting into you as your lips molded together. It was a kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word, an intimate language that only you two could understand.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The world outside ceased to exist as your souls connected, and you found solace and completeness in each other's arms. Ellie’s body shook, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of emotions coursing through her at this moment. She had fought to suppress her feelings, but now, the floodgates had opened, and your love cascaded like a mighty waterfall, uncontainable and unstoppable.

she grabbed your waist, you reaching for her cheeks as you were deep inside a gaze— clinging to each other as though your lives depended on it.

but it quickly became desperate, heated breaths heaving from you both as your hands became clingy, searching for more than just a single place to rest. Ellie reached behind you, harshly opening the door— pushing you inside your house before slamming it. Your lips didn’t disconnect once, the kiss too deep to back out now. She had been to your house countless times, so her feet knew the rhythm to follow to reach your ocuch.

You got the idea, feet syncing with hers and before you knew it your back met the familiar cushioning of your sofa, yet this time it wasn’t as cozy and sweet as you remembered.

Her hands were roaming— exploring every crease and crevice on your body in the mere time between each desperate breath of air that was forced into your lungs before her lips connected once again to yours.

her hands began to undo your shirt, the pink buttons of your blouse disconnecting from their home.

“fuck..”

you hadn’t expected this to become as heated as it has, but the way her hands were on you— you had not choice but to comply.

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thatfandomslut · 4 months

Text

All Of The Girls You’ve Loved Before

Gretchen Wieners x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warning: just a bunch of fluff

Request:

Hello, there! I don't know if this request will reach you or not, but I would like to request some Gretchen Wieners x reader fluff please, thank you! Inspired by All Of The Girls You've Loved Before by Taylor Swift

Mean Girls requests are open.

"Who wrote that?" Gretchen wondered, flipping through (Y/n)'s yearbook. The pink ink glistened on the page with red hearts floating around the name, (Y/n)'s name. The yearbook in Gretchen's hand was dated back to their freshman year, but the pink, flowing cursive made her feel ill with the recognizable feeling of jealousy.

(Y/n) rolled over from her back, and looked over at the book curiously. A hum escaped her lips as she recognized the handwriting. "This was back in freshman year when I was dating Emily." (Y/n) said casually. It was one of those fourteen-year-old relationships where you think you will be together forever. Of course, in the long run, it wasn't healthy, and it ended in text and approximately two days in bed before they both had developed crushes on someone new.

Gretchen didn't experience this kind of relationship. She had situationships like Jason's. She couldn't think back to when she didn't have feelings for (Y/n). Even though she's liked (Y/n) since middle school, it was their sophomore year that those feelings started to blossom fully. Then during the summer between their sophomore and junior years, (Y/n) and Gretchen became official. Gretchen almost forgot about all of the relationships (Y/n) had before them.

(Y/n) noticed the thoughtful pout on Gretchen's lips and gently took the book from her hands and closed it. "Gretchen," she called for the girl's attention, smiling a bit when Gretchen's coffee-colored eyes met hers. "You know, if we had gotten together earlier, this relationship wouldn't be as healthy as it is. I had to mature before I got to where I am now. I grew from those relationships in order to be the person I am today with you." (Y/n) said softly, cupping the girl's cup before placing a soft kiss on Gretchen's pout. Thankfully, this seemed to satisfy Gretchen as she kissed back.

Gretchen had realized that (Y/n) was right. They had been friends during all of the relationships (Y/n) dabbled in before they became official. She has witnessed this growth and maturity. Gretchen also grew during that time. Thankful for her words of reassurance, Gretchen pulled away, pressing a soft kiss to (Y/n)'s nose. "I grew during that time, too. I was in a toxic situationship with Jason, and he treated me horribly. You are the first and only person who has ever treated me like a person who deserved a good and healthy love." Gretchen confessed with a soft smile.

"I'm glad I can provide that for you, baby. You genuinely deserve the world, and I want to give that to you." (Y/n) moved to sit up, stretching slightly, her muscles tight from the position she was in on the bed. "Do you want to watch a movie and cuddle?"

Gretchen grinned wider at this. (Y/n) knew her well. Gretchen practically launched herself into (Y/n)'s arms causing the two to laugh as (Y/n) held her close. "Can we watch Clueless again?" She questioned, hoping (Y/n) would agree to this. After all, they watched it once every week. Unfortunately for (Y/n), it was a movie that Gretchen never grew tired of. (Y/n) nodded softly, kissing her girlfriend's temple before flipping on the movie for her. The room's previous tensions were now completely settled as the two enjoyed the movie.

(Y/n) could always appreciate how she and Gretchen communicated their feelings. She knew that Gretchen struggled with the idea of her and her past relationships. And, that was something (Y/n) understood. She heard an earful from Regina about how Gretchen had been crushing on her for years and she needed to 'woman up' and ask her out. (Y/n) was nervous to go out with Gretchen. She had only been in unhealthy relationships before her, but this has been the most amazing relationship she has ever been in. She was determined to spend forever with the honey-blonde girl in her arms.

Gretchen looked up at (Y/n) as she noticed the girl lost in thought. Her focus was obviously not on the movie. "What's on your mind?" Gretchen questioned softly, her hand gently moving to take (Y/n)'s. She always liked to know what was on (Y/n)'s mind. She lived for her girlfriend's thoughts and ideas.

(Y/n) bit her lips with a smile as her cheeks heated up. "Would it be too cheesy if I said you? I was thinking about how lucky I am to be with you. I'm just thankful for you, and in a way, Regina for pushing me to finally ask you out." She confessed before leaning her head back to rest on the pillows behind her. She didn't mean to get caught so zoned out, but Gretchen was someone who was incredibly observant.

Gretchen smiled at (Y/n)'s answer, squeezing her hand. "It is a bit cheesy, yes, but… It's also very cute, and it's nice to hear that you feel that way about me and for me." Gretchen responded, meeting eyes with (Y/n). The action would always take her breath away. "I feel the same way towards you. Also, I'm thankful for Regina, too. I love you." She said happily, leaning up to pepper (Y/n)'s face with kisses, causing the girl to laugh happily at the action.

"I love you, too, Gretchen," she said as her heart felt warm, the fluttering feeling in her stomach returning. It always came when she and Gretchen were acting like this. Both had forgotten about the movie playing in the background once Gretchen's lips landed onto (Y/n)'s. Both of their heartbeats accelerated but they were still in sync. The feeling of love and happiness filled the room as the two kept each other close, as they always did. At that moment, they felt lucky and a sheer amount of love that could end a war. It was evident to the both of them how much they wanted and needed each other, and how important it was to grow from all of the relationships they've had in the past.

#gretchen wieners x reader #gretchen wieners #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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eunoiathewriter · 1 year

Note

okie since christmas is coming up i was wondering if you can do a little fluffy imagine with xavier where maybe the nightshades are doing like a secret Santa and Xavier gets the reader and he gives her like the most thoughtful present ever and she’s just so overwhelmed that he knows her so well and maybe the confess their feelings for each other? thank you so much in advance and if not no worries :)

X. THORPE X F!READER

Sypnosis: Secret santa was a fun thing for the little secret society, they'd done it for a few years, but this year his gift have a bit more thought behind it as its for her.

Word count: 1.6k

She simply stared at him, her eyes asking if he was truly serious. This was not the reason she had thought he would ask her to come down there—well, to be frank, she had thought all Nightshades were called to their little hideout, not just herself, and not for this reason.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she wondered if Xavier was for real. He was not supposed to give her the present personally, as it was tradition for the Nightshades to do a sort of "secret Santa" thing. Bianca had promised she would figure out who had y/ns present for her and give it to her the next day—without telling her who it was from, of course—before she went home for Christmas.

"You're not supposed to give it to me; have you not realised that in—? Three years?" y/n asked with a teasing tone while looking up at him.

"Of course I have; I just thought that you were going home so I could just give it to you." He shrugged his shoulders without really thinking much about it all, although his heart did most certainly beat faster and harder in his chest. He would never admit to that, though maybe in his head but not out loud.

"Bianca said she was going to find out which of you got me and get it for me so I could open it when I got home." She was not going to lie; it warmed her heart and cheeks that he wanted to personally give it to her.

"Well, now you have no choice but to open it here." Xavier held out the wrapped present for her to take and could see her suspiciously looking at it.

"Are you nervous I won't like it, Thorpe?" She narrowed her eyes at him, gently taking the present from his hands, and she waited for an answer.

"Me? No."

To be honest, he was terrified. That was because if he read a book for the entire month of November and added his own personal comments on things in it, and then spent another month adding his own take on how the characters looked, only for it all to go down the drain, he would melt like the wicked witch of the west when she got water on herself.

For two months, he had to put up with the teasing from the other guys in the neighbouring dormitories because whenever they decided to play games or something, Xavier would still be there but his nose would be deep into a book the entire time.

"Yeah, right," y/n mumbled as she started to fidget and try to find where to open the present. There was a light smile on her face as she focused on being careful, as always. The limited lighting in the Nightshades society was not the best, which made it even harder.

"Okay, so what if I am?" Xavier asked the question as if it were hypothetical. y/n almost felt like he should have just added hypothetically before, just for her own amusement.

"Relax, when you got me three years ago for this, you honestly got the best gif ever. I doubt you'll disappoint me this time; give your fourteen-year-old self some credit."

Yes, when they were fourteen and had just started this thing back up, doing secret Santa for the first time, Xavier had gotten her something she liked. The only thing different between then and now was that now he had a major crush on the girl before him, and this time he had switched with Ajax to actually get her this year.

He shouldn't have; Xavier knew that, but when he read the name on his note and it said Devina, he sneakily glanced over at Ajax's note, which said y/n. As soon as they got away from the others, he pretty much had to bribe Ajax to switch sides with him. It had cost him three weeks' worth of chores in the dormitories that were assigned to Ajax, but in a way, it was totally worth it.

Without saying another word, he watched expectantly as she finally unwrapped his gif. She tilted her head slightly as she looked down at it—a book. Not just any book, but her favorite. The black cover with simple white text was familiar, as she had an exact copy on her bookshelf in her dorm.

For a second, it looked as if she was about to say something; she opened her mouth but quickly shut it as she spotted something else. Holding the spine of the book, she turned it so she could see all six hundred and forty pages of it, only to see a familiar sight of sticky notes. It was as if her brain short-circuited, going dead as she blinked at the book with an obviously perplexed face.

"This is my favourite book." y/n stated the obvious, eyes still on the book in her hand, fingers brushing over the neatly placed sticky notes.

"Mhm," Xavier said, his heart racing.

Opening up the book to see what the notes were, she was met with a hand-drawn picture of what she assumed to be the characters. They were all lined up and identifiable by their distinct characteristics. The narrator of them all was easy to spot; he was drawn looking slightly nervous.

A smile tugged at Xaviers' lips as he could see she was appreciating the gift. He watched as she marvelled over the drawings he'd done of the six main characters.

"They're exactly like I imagined them in my head," y/n did not look up as she made the comment but instead flipped to her favourite page, earning a chuckle from the boy in front of her.

A bit flustered, he scratched his neck before saying anything, letting out a sigh of relief. "Good, I thought I had gotten them completely wrong."

"No, they're spot on; you even added his pince-nez glasses and the chain to them." She was referring to the character Francis.

She found what she was looking for after flipping to her favourite page of all and finding the line, "Cubitum eamus." The Latin question was underlined with an arrow to a written comment that made her snort a little.

I had to Google that.

"So?" Xavier pressed on, unsure of what to make of what she thought. Sure, she liked it, but did she love it?

"I love it!" y/n exclaimed. "How did you even know how to do all this, and how did you know this is my favourite book?"

"I had some help with learning." He told.

"This is the sweetest gift ever."

Her grip on the book was gentle so as not to destroy it, and she wanted to be extra careful now that she knew the inside of it was adorned with his own personal thoughts and drawings he had made. y/n could feel her cheeks heat up, seeing the way he let out a breath of relief and smiled while looking down at the floor. His hair covered his crimson-coloured cheeks.

Before he could say anything, he felt a hand on his left cheek, followed by a kiss on his right. It stunned him, seeing her still holding the book with a sweet smile. Xaviers' eyes darted over her face to search for her reason for doing what she did.

He felt her hand leave his cheek and reach down to his own, taking a gentle hold of it. "Maybe we can do something when I'm back after the new year."

"You mean like a date?" His eyes widened, and a smirk formed on his lips as he closed his own hand over hers, the two of them now holding hands.

"If you want it to be one." Her tone was teasingly amusing.

"Don't put words in my mouth; you want it to be one, but you just didn't say it."

"But you were still the one who asked." y/n pointed out to him, a grin replacing her sweet smile. With a roll of his eyes, he answered her.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Xavier enjoyed the wide smile that he could clearly see her fighting, loving the way she looked off to the side while swinging their interlocked hands back and forth between them. He followed her every move and never let his eyes move from hers.

Then as she let out a sigh, y/n looked up at him. "I need to go and pack; I haven't even started."

"Go," His hand loosened around hers, missing the warmth it provided, as he motioned with his head for her to go and do exactly that. He was feeling completely content with how this had gone.

Sliding her hand from his, she held the book in one of her hands while walking towards the staircase. Her heart and brain were racing marathons inside her, while the butterflies in her stomach refused to stop. Before she could get too far, however, she stopped.

"I hope you understand that this means I like you, more than friends." She was about eight steps up the stairs when she turned toward him.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Xavier playfully asked.

"Well, you're not the smartest, Xav." She leaned against the railing while looking down at him from the staircase; he still stood in the middle of the room the Nightshades occupied.

"I like you too, more than a friend."

"Good to know; call me."

"I certainly will."

"Merry Christmas." With that, she walked up the stairs, book in hand, with a gleeful feeling inside. Was she going to scream into her pillow out of pure happiness? Yes. Was she also going to rant at Ophelia? Yes.

"Merry Christmas."

Finally I have Christmas break and can now deliver you guys more with this guy.

Taglist

@getbillzoned @honeybubblepopp @mrskeery-mclaughlin @wonderlandco @alicews @l4venderia @navs-bhat @ariianelle @moose-ubi @lomllino @honey-with-tea @rayliz793 @moatsnow @s0ftdr1nks

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mrsurahara · 10 months

Text

𝗣𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗦 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧┊𝗦. 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗧𝗢𝗡

ఌ︎ p. Steve Harrington x f!reader // g. fluff

ఌ︎. cw. established relationship, original character, kissing, Steve being great with kids, talks about wanting kids, talks of marriage, no use of y/n— let me know if i missed any!

ఌ︎. wc. 1.4k

𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

Your baby sister, Madilyn, is the textbook definition of an angel. Of course she has her moments, she’s a kid, but for the most part, she’s the best tiny human ever. Which is why you had no problems looking after her while your parents were on their anniversary trip for the weekend.

The two of you were on the sofa watching Race For Your Life, Charlie Brown while dinner was finishing on the stove. Ending the day with dumb cartoons and your favorite human was a win in your book.

Suddenly, the phone rang drawing your attention away from the television. A part of you wanted to ignore it, but if it was your parents and they had to call again, you’d get a never ending earful. Approaching the blush pink landline on the wall you answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Babydoll,” your boyfriend’s smooth voice sounded over the receiver. You leaned against the wall, a smile playing on your lips.

“Hi, Stevie,” your voice sounded breather than anticipated. Even after almost two years together, Steve Harrington still makes you feel like a girl with an elementary school crush.

Introducing Steve, Hawkins’ resident rich boy, to your family was nerve-wracking. The day he picked you up for your first date, you opened the door with a then two-year-old Madilyn on your hip. She shied away and hid half of her face in your neck. After greeting you with a kiss on the cheek he turned to the girl in your arms, “Is this little Madilyn that likes Care Bears?” he asked excitedly and the rest is history.

Your baby sister successfully stole your boyfriend.

But there are no hard feelings because watching the two of them interact with each other is a beautiful sight. Steve’s patience and ability to keep up with the toddler’s often nonsensical rambles, make you firmly believe that he would make a great father; hopefully to your own kids someday.

“How’s babysitting going?”

“It’s been good, you know Maddie’s a good kid,” you shrugged watching the little girl curled up on the couch with her stuffed bunny.

“Mm,” he hummed as he exhaled, “You two want company? Or is it strictly sister bonding time?”

“Hm, I think the kid and I can go for a night with our favorite guy,” your smile widened as you twirled the coiled line around your finger.

“Well in that case, I’ll see you in 10.”

“Steve…you live twenty minutes away,” you said skeptically.

“Like I said, 10 minutes— I love you,” you could practically hear the smile on his face.

“I love you too and please drive safely,” sincerity coating your words. With a promise to see each other soon, you hang up and join your sister on the couch.

Maddie shifted over to curl into your side. You looked down at the girl and squished her closer. Becoming a big sister is easily one of the best things to happen to you. Sure fourteen year old you was skeptical and a little jealous about your first sibling, but as soon as you held the newborn in your arms for the first time, you knew you would do anything for her.

A loud knock on the door had you both alert and looking toward the front hallway. Upon opening the door, you were met with a very sexy looking Steve Harrington. His sunglasses were perched on his nose and the yellow Polo shirt was unbuttoned showcasing his chest hair. He smiled cockily and removed his sunglasses, “you can eye fuck me inside, doll,” he pushed past you and into the house. Closing and locking the door for you, Steve wound his arm around your waist and pulled you into a deep kiss.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled before pressing another short kiss to his lips. Taking him by the hand, you walked back into the living room. “Maddie, look who’s here!” you caught the girl’s attention. Propping herself up on the back of the sofa, she smiled widely and waved her hand so fast, it was just a blur.

“Hi, Steve!” she said excitedly. She held out her arms, her bunny long forgotten, and Steve scooped her up and gave her a big hug.

“Hi Mads, how was your day?” he asked. That led to her talking a mile a minute, not leaving a single detail out about her day.

The timer starts to ring and you walk over to the stove to turn off the burner. You stirred the hot pot of jambalaya, the smell making your mouth water.

You poked your head back into the living room, “You two. Table. Now please,” you hollered over their conversation. Their voices carried into the dining room and Steve helped Maddie into her booster seat. You sat her plate and a cup of watered down apple juice in front of her. Bringing in yours and Steve's plates, you all sat down together and continued to chat over your meal. Every so often either you or Steve had to remind her to finish chewing before talking.

After finishing up dinner, you took Maddie up for a bath and wrapped her hair up for the night. She still had about an hour left before her bedtime so you brought her back down to finish her movie.

When you got back to the kitchen, Steve was putting away the clean and dried dishes. After putting the last of them away you took ahold of his hands and pulled him into you.

“You didn’t have to clean up, I could’ve done it.”

“You were already getting Mads ready for bed, It’s the least I could do,” he shrugged. You smiled, guiding him back to the living room where you were gonna watch the rest of the movie until you saw Maddie knocked out on the couch, soft snores escaping from her. Letting go of your hand, Steve picked the sleeping girl up while you turned off the tv and all the lights then you two walked her up the stairs. You pulled back the sheets and Steve laid her down. You tucked her in with her bunny, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

Retreating from her room as quietly as possible, you two made it back to your room and began getting yourselves ready for bed. Slipping underneath the cool sheets, you and Steve settled in together. “Thank you for coming over, I really do appreciate it,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on the back of his hand.

“Of course,” he returned the kiss to one of your hands, “I need the practice anyway.”

“Practice for…?” you asked. Steve pulled you into his chest, his hand lightly gripping your hip.

“The six kids I dreamt of running around our house. You in a pretty little dress baking fucking cinnamon rolls with our girls while the boys wrestle in the living room.”

“What if the boys wanna bake and the girls wanna wrestle?” you smirked, hooking your leg over his hip.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as our kids,” he took your hand and kissed your bare ring finger, “and my wife are happy and healthy.”

You felt the heat building in your face as a smile played on your lips. “Mm, being acknowledged as ‘Mrs. Harrington’ does sound pretty great.”

“Hell yeah it does, sweetheart,” he kissed you deeply. A knock on the door forced you to break the kiss off sooner than you would’ve liked. The door opened and Maddie poked her head into the room.

“You okay Mads?” you sat up.

“Can I sleep in here?” she rubbed her eye, still sleepy.

“Of course, baby girl,” you pulled the sheets back so she could crawl in between the two of you. Getting her settled, she quickly fell back asleep, stuffed bunny tucked in her arms. You adjusted her bonnet and slightly adjusted the comforter, knowing she hates having her face covered. When you finally looked back at Steve his eyes were already on you.

“I love you,” he mouthed so as not to wake the sleeping child between the two of you.

“I love you too,” you replied.

Soon all of your breaths evened out and you all slept through the night. Even with a four year old beating you up in her sleep.

#⌁₊˚⊹ mywriting ⊹˚₊⌁#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #boyfriend!steve harrington #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things #x black!reader #x black reader #x black!fem!reader #x black fem reader

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

Note

You called and here I am. Maybe some Chad smut(if you’re comfortable)? Him crushing on the reader and finally making a move? They were also in woodsboro together

Request: Please do more riley!reader x chad!!!!! Can you add height difference too? I'm a sucker for those

Warnings: smut (very light), mention of scream 5

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’So...goodnight.’’

You smiled back at him, shifting on your feet. ‘’Goodnight, Chad.’’

Your keys were in your hand, their metal cool against your fingers, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn around and unlock your door.

After the movie night at Sam and Tara’s, Chad had kindly walked you to your apartment. His dorm was blocks away in the opposite direction, but the streets of New York weren't the safest place for women after 10pm and he would never miss an opportunity to play the protective bodyguard.

It also gave him an excuse to be alone with you.

You stayed standing in the corridor in front of your apartment, looking at each other as Chad towered over you, neither moving, neither speaking. You could stare at him for hours and never get bored, but your neighbor always takes his dog ‘Leonard’ out around this time and he would give you and Chad a massive side-eye if he saw you.

‘’Goodnight,’’ the brunet repeated, clinging to the last moments of tonight, not yet ready to part ways.

You broke your silence with a soft chuckle. ‘’You’ve already said that.’’

The corner of Chad’s mouth curled. ‘’I know, but I sort of don’t want to leave,’’ he admitted, fidgeting with the sleeve of his old letterman jacket. He didn't want to walk away. Not this time.

It was no secret that there was something between you and Chad. He’s had a small crush on you since the day he saw you laughing at a gore-y scene in his living room with Tara and Mindy, but never acted on it because he was terrified of your father. Dewey wasn’t a scary cop, but the sheriff badge on his chest and the gun attached to his belt had fourteen years old Chad peeing his pants — figuratively.

Life went on and your parents got tangled into a painful separation and divorce that ended with your mother moving to New York. You followed her to the big apple and built a new life while Chad started building muscles and dating girls.

Then, a new wave of ghostface attacks came and your paths crossed again, but you both needed space to grieve and heal before exploring the roads not taken.

You admired the way that the ceiling spots illuminated the features of Chad's gorgeous face, the lips you were dying to taste. It almost happened last week, but someone walked in and ruined the moment.

‘’Me either.’’

You let out a soft breath of air as Chad leaned in, his hand reaching up to rest gently on your jaw and connecting your lips in a slow kiss. You felt your skin erupt in goosebumps, your hands instantly reaching up behind Chad’s neck and shoulder to pull him down as the butterflies in your belly swooped.

His other hand found your lower back and you didn’t hesitate to jump and wrap your legs around him, turning this goodnight kiss into something a little more risqué. They kiss gently at first, finding a pace that felt so natural, but a burning desire grew and started flowing through you, needing to turn the kiss into something deeper.

Your mind turned blank as Chad’s tongue slipped into your mouth, finally satisfying a craving he’s had for a long time. It was a good thing your keychain was tied around your wrist, or else you would have dropped them, too entranced by everything Chad. His taste, his touch, the faint scent of his cologne, you never wanted the moment to end.

Unfortunately, you had to take a break for air.

You pressed your forehead against his, idly toying with the collar of his Blackmore hoodie. ‘’Do you wanna come in? My mom is away on a business trip to meet with her publishing house.’’

Clothes hastily got removed as you stumbled through the apartment, leaving a trail on the way to your bedroom. Although you had the place to yourself, you had enough respect to not have sex on your mother’s expensive couch or kitchen table.

Chad had you pinned against your bedroom wall, mouth slanted on yours and tongue imploring hungrily as his hands wandered over your curves. You reached back to unhook your bra and let it fall to the floor, giving him more terrain to kiss and grab.

His strong arms picked you up again, taking you to your bed and laying you down so he could crawl over you and kiss between your breasts. Your hands found their way into his hair, eliciting a quiet groan from him.

The room grew hotter as Chad’s hand wandered; one to your breast and the other to your panties — which did not match your bra. He dipped his hand underneath the thin fabric, making you gasp as his fingers teased your folds, feeling the wetness that had gathered.

He’s been dreaming of that moment — and secretly so did you. Chad pinched your nipple as he brushed your clit with his thumb, waking a rush of pleasure through your body.

‘’Aah,’’ you sighed softly, head falling back against your mattress.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz

#chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin imagine #chad meeks martin smut #chad meeks martin x reader #scream 6 imagines #scream 6

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spacedace · 11 months

Text

Here have this random snippet I stumbled on that I wrote ages ago, I have no idea where it was originally going, but if anyone is interested you’re welcome to use it as a prompt :D

Elle stood up straight before him, shoulders back, chin tilted up high, face determined and eyes locked with his in what Jason had long come to think of her “battle princess mode.”

She was also blushing, which was new.

Jason met her gaze levelly, arms crossed across his chest as he waited for her to break the silence and say what she was going to say. Behind her Jazz peered out from the edge of the door to the kitchen, doing her best to smother her smile in case Elle turned back to look at her. The fourteen year old hellion could be an absolute nightmare if she thought they were teasing her - especially when it came to matters involving her crushes on Damian and Jon.

“Bruce got invited to a wedding to some socialite he knows.”

He raised his brow at her. “Okay.”

“And he’s making Day go with him.”

His brow twitched higher. “And?”

“And Day asked me and Jolly to go with him so he won't be bored out of his mind.”

He watched, fighting a smile - Jazz, his wonderful wife, was not helping as she silently awed behind her little sister - as the red on Elle’s cheeks spread across her nose.

“There’s going to be dancing.”

He could see where this was going, but he was - at the end of the day - an older brother first and foremost. He allowed his brow to tick even higher at her. Tilting his head to imply he wasn’t sure where she was going with all this.

Somehow, her face grew even more red.

“I don’t know how to dance.”

There was a long moment of silence as they stared each other down.

“So are you going to ask me to teach you? Or are you just gonna keep trying to set me on fire with your mind.”

Elle couldn’t be more red if he’d dunked her in bucket of paint. “Fine. Will you please teach me how to dance?”

He let his arms drop from before him, reaching out with a warm smile to ruffle her hair - and she really must want him to teach her since she didn’t even bat his hands away. "Sure thing, kid. Can’t let those stuffy assholes think the Nightingales don’t know how to cut a rug. Come on, help me move the couch so we have some room.”

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc writing prompt #Jason Todd #jazz fenton #dani phantom #danielle phantom #elle phantom #Anger Management #super serious chaos #Elle spends months learning how to dance for this wedding #only to find out that Jon & Damian *don't* know how #she kinda loses her mind a little but it all works out #she gets to teach them how to dance instead #there is much blushing and cuteness to be had #Tim records it all and drops it into the family group chat #damian threatens to kill him over it but also saves the video so it all works out #they keep having to yoink Jon down while they dance because he keeps almost floating he's so giddy

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chronically-ghosted · 6 months

Note

I always thought the scene from Deadpool was hot where he and Vanessa are having hot sex mixed with food on Thanksgiving.

Maybe that with Joel or Javier P?

Ahhh, anon. this has been stewing in my brain since you sent it. And I know you said thanksgiving, but the line in this happened in, like, a single scene after the thanksgiving one! please forgive my timing!

kiss me ‘till I’m warm

rating: T

Pairing: jaiver peña x f!reader

word count: 1.6K

summary: a very drunk javi has something he wants to share with you.

warnings/tags: mentions of alcohol, drunkenness, one stupid joke, the absurdity of someone drunk off their ass trying to flirt, light kissing on body parts, references to smut, but ultimately this is fluffy as hell

a/n: wishing all of you a great start to your week as december plods along! shout out to the incredible @saradika for the divider!

🤍Masterlist

Javier Peña is a giggly drunk.

Not all the time, mind you, not always. Depends on the liquor, his mood, and what he’s had to eat that day – if anything at all. But given the right circumstances and the stars align, once in a blue moon, Javier blushes and giggles like a fourteen year old with a first crush.

Now, that might come as a surprise to anyone who has seen him lurking around the hallways of the American Embassy, scowling and smelling of stale cigarettes. The women he used to visit would swear up and down that Javier Peña was not a giggly drunk, having seen him knock back a drink or two, or three, or five. Certainly, all the narcos he’d rounded up and captured would be rather offended to hear that about the man who sent them to prison. It would shock them all to hear that, in the end, it was eggnog. Eggnog, the creamy, thick holiday drink that in terms of calories and sugar blew every other frappuccino out of the water – it was eggnog that turned Javier’s world upside down. From frown-set smokestack, to someone who wanders into his girlfriend’s bedroom after her office party and nearly blows his knee out on the bed frame.

“Javier, honey, are you okay?” You scramble towards where he tripped, expecting either blood or for him to be knocked on conscious. But instead, you just see fluff. White fluff. White fluff that proceeds red velvet, more fluff, and then thick dark hair.

Javier stands up, grinning from ear to ear. He stretches his arms wide, his white undershirt thin on his chest. He arches further, revealing a dusting of hair below the hem of his shirt that disappears into the waistband of his jeans. Well, when his pants are buttoned.

“Tada!” he beams. You roll your eyes and he giggles, following you on his hands and knees as you crawl back to your spot by the pillows. You had come in here to get some lotion for your hands and despite your insistence that he does not leave the couch, he stumbled in after you.

“Pero, mi amor,” he pouts when he sits on his knees behind you, “te fuiste.”

“You poor thing,” you frown at him over your shoulder as you rub the lotion into your hands, then your knees. His eyes bob between your tits through your sleep shirt and your circular motions over your skin. You narrow your eyes at him when his mouth goes slack and his eyes dark. “Oh, absolutely not, Javier. You are drunk as a skunk and about two minutes away from passing out.”

He rolls his eyes and leans forward, wobbling slightly as he crawls towards you. “Please?”

“No.”

“¿Por favor?”

“No!”

You frown, suspicious, when he chuckles as he loosely grabs you by the ankles, thumbs pressed in below the knot of bone. His shirt is loose enough you can see down the collar to his tanned chest. It’s not like the idea isn’t enticing, but you’d only seen him this drunk once before after the Christmas party at Steve and Connie’s two years ago. He made the same proposition back then and when he went to lie down on the floor to take his pants off, you looked over the bed to find him passed out, spread eagle and only his belt undone.

“Bien, bien,” he waves his hand in the air, the cotton ball of his Santa hat falling over his eyes, “pero tengo un chiste para ti.”

Another sign that Javier had reached the point of no return: he spoke much more in Spanish and the words blurred together, as if sticking on top of each other.

You eye him with faux annoyance when he uses your legs to pull himself in between your ankles. He kisses the tops of your knees, his palms warm beneath the weight of your calf muscles. Giddy and care-free until he wakes up with a pounding headache, drunk Javier is something you always cherished, because it is one of the few times he can be care-free. Relaxed. You are the only person he lets see him like this and you would protect that vulnerability with everything in your heart.

“Javier.” He hums, his teeth against your knee and dropping lower. His eyes are closed and his breathing’s changed. “I think you had something you wanted to tell me.”

He blinks, open mouth freezing on the bone of your calf. “Right. Yeah. Of course, mi vida.”

That heady, blurred look of desire on his face melts away almost as fast as it came on. He presses the arch of his nose against your other knee, giggling, as he readjusts his feet under him.

“Okay, okay,” he sniffs, sits up, and looks at you with bleary, water-y brown eyes. “Steve told it to me, so if you don’t think it’s funny, it’s his fault.”

You nod and then he taps the inside of your thigh with two fingers.

“If your left leg is Thanksgiving y tu pierna derecha es Navidad,” he outright gropes your other thigh, his slur worsening, mouth full of damp, gummy cotton balls. “Can I visit you entre días festivos?

Javier Peña raises a single eyebrow at you, as if he had been the first one to discover pick up lines, perfected the art of flirting, and discovered he had the ritz to seduce any woman in the world all in one night. His hands tighten in the meat of your inner thighs as he pushes them apart, his chest pressing forward, down, into you. With surprising dexterity and stability, he crawls between your open legs, hands firm as they plant on either side of your head. He’s still wearing that infuriatingly smug grin, his hips rolling forward until you feel the scrape of the teeth of his jeans on your thigh.

“What do you say, baby?” his teeth edge the rim of your ear, “¿p-p-puedo –,”

He full-on snorts in your ear, suddenly overcome with giggles and you jerk away. “Javi!”

You pinch his waist and he flops over on to the other side of the bed, his face turning red as he howls with laughter. His Santa hat pushed up over his forehead, the back of his hair sticking up from where he’s nestled against the pillows, Javier clutches his sides as he rolls back and forth.

You sit up, smiling, and watch the man you love enjoy himself for once. Sure, he could (and did, often) get lost in sex, but this is different. Your mother always said there was something healing about laughter, about feeling safe enough to close your eyes around another person, and Javier had spent far too long with his eyes wide open.

Tears are streaming down his cheeks by the time you pluck the Santa hat off his head and kiss his forehead. Giggles trickling down, he curls onto his side, his bare feet seemingly so large on your covers. You stroke his cheek, your thumb brushing the corner of his mustache, and the last giggle fades to a hum. He closes his eyes, cheeks pink, his head turning ever so slightly towards your touch.

“Do you need some water, baby?”

“Mhm hmm.”

Kissing him on his nose, you slide off the bed and go towards the kitchen. After filling up a glass from the filter, you turn off the lights, check the front door, and close the blinds. But when you come back to your bedroom, the golden light of your bedside lamp the only glow left in the entire apartment, you know instantly he’s already asleep. Javier lies still curled up on his side, his wide shoulders curled in, the white expanse of his t-shirt rising and falling with each breath.

You didn’t know him very well the first time you slept together, but the night he stayed over, all the way until the morning light broke through your shutters, you knew it had been an extraordinary step for him.

Now he sleeps in your bed, unguarded and unburdened, as much as he can.

You put the glass of water on his side of the bed and gently ease him onto his back. His arm slithers over his torso as his shoulder collides with the mattress, his matted hair where the hat sat in a line stiff against his forehead.

In his more morose moments, Javier announced he was getting old. His back hurt, his eyesight was shit, and he swears he spots more and more gray hairs in the mirror every day.

But, when he’s like this, when he’s Javi not Javier, when he’s just yours and no one else’s, he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

A hand pressed to his warm chest, you lean forward and kiss his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you whisper against his skin. He stirs, but doesn’t open his eyes.

Sliding your earrings out of their posts and into the little dish beside your bed, you glance at him one more time before turning off the light. The room is dark, warm, and in the emptiness you can hear him breathing.

The shape of him is more familiar to you than your own, able to trace his profile with nothing but memory, so without searching, as though reaching for a piece of yourself, you intertwine your hand with his.

His fingers twitch and the sound of his breathing slows.

In the absence of every other sense, you are overwhelmed by the weight of his palm in yours, the soothing rock of the rise and fall of his chest, your ears tuned to his every sigh, every noise –

In the absence of everything else, you listen to him inhale –

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

– and exhale.

#merry thanksgiving nonsense 2023 #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fluff #javi peña #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction

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nessinborderland · 1 year

Text

V-E-N-U-S (01)

Pairing: Rafe x plus size!Reader

Genre: smut, dark-ish fic

Word Count: 6 ,7k

Warnings ⚠️ Mildly Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, more like Enemies to Enemies That Fuck tbh, Rafe Cameron Being an Asshole, mentions of bullying, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Rough Sex, Mentions of death of a parent, Drinking, Drug Use, Rafe needs therapy asap, fatphobia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: The nickname he had given you in 8th grade was supposed to be ironic. In Rafe’s defense, he used to be a pretty stupid and cruel fourteen-year-old, as most kids that age are. So yeah, nicknaming the fat and nerdy chick Venus – like the goddess of sex and beauty – had been pretty hilarious in young Rafe's opinion.

What he would've never guessed was how much that name would fit you now as a grown woman.

Notes: this is - hopefully - the first of more OBX fics written by yours truly. A joy to write really because Rafe/Drew are turning me into a mad woman and I desperately needed something to quench the thirst. So here, enjoy 💖

AO3 | Masterlist

Rafe was pretty sure he was about to do something he was going to regret. That, or go insane with desire. He could feel something sizzling in his chest the longer he stared at you, hyper-aware of the attention you were attracting. Attention that did not come from him and him alone.

"Wow," Kelce whistled beside him, pulling him out of his thoughts, "Venus looking thick as hell, man, look at that ass."

Rafe had been looking. Hard not to, when the red bikini you were wearing hugged your body like a second skin, showing off your curves in ways that made him wonder how nice it would feel to trace your soft-looking skin with his palms.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the only one with his eyes on you.

He gulped and took another sip of his beer – jaw clenching as he tried to not let his temper get the best of him over Kelce’s words. He couldn’t blame the other guy for staring when you looked that good, but goddamit, did Rafe feel the urge to punch him and every other ogler that dared to eye-fuck you.

His eyes never left your figure as you danced by the pool with the confidence of a young woman that had outgrown her teenage insecurities, a faint smile on your lips as you swayed your hips to the beat of the Latino song playing.

It was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, and – if you had been anyone else – he wouldn't have hesitated to approach you and charm you into his bed.

But he knew it would never work. Not on you.

It was the worst-kept secret that you disliked Rafe Cameron. No, not dislike; you hated his guts; you couldn’t even stand the mere sight of him, a scowl twisting your features every time you were forced to interact with him at the country club where you waited tables. He couldn’t really blame you for that though; not after the things he had done and said to you in high school.

Even Rafe himself was aware of how much of a nasty teenager he used to be; especially to you.

You just so happened to be his favorite plaything. Why, he had no idea, but young Rafe lived for the moments where you would avoid him like the plague during recess, just so he could hunt you down to bully you in the meanest way he could think of.

You had a crush on someone, and he happened to find out? He made sure to personally break your heart. You tried to develop a friendship? There he was to break it even before it started. You dared to tell on him to a teacher? He would harass you at your own home and bombard your phone with nasty texts until you dropped it.

He was king and you were his favorite court jester.

Not that you didn't put up a fight.

More than once you had punched and screamed at him, tears in your eyes as you pinned him down under your fiery gaze. He loved it. In a way, he wondered if that was what made him sink his claws into you in the first place. You scratched that urge in him for confrontation, for a good fight.

He still remembered that altercation between you that had turned into a slapping contest in the hallways, everyone around you urging you on until a teacher came to stop it. He could still feel the sting in his cheek, remember the way your hard gaze never left his even when his palm met your skin. That was one of the reasons why he couldn't stop bullying you, even when that inevitably got him in trouble.

Rafe knew that he used to be your worst nightmare, and, at the time, he hadn’t cared how it make you feel. Looking back, he regretted it.

He really had no idea how he had once thought of you as ugly. If he was being honest with himself, had he ever? Or had he just been a horny teenager with no idea of what to do with his feelings toward the ostracized fat girl? He couldn’t be sure. To be fair, you had been awkward in high school, always dressed in baggy clothes and worn-out shoes, with your glasses at the tip of your nose, which was almost always stuck in the pages of some thick fantasy novel.

But now? The only thing he could say was that you had finally learned how to dress and flaunt every piece of your body in the best way possible.

You had the body of a fucking goddess, an hourglass figure he could get lost in, all curves and wide hips and tits that he could bet even his large hands weren’t big enough to contain. More than once he had imagined your thick thighs wrapped around his hips as he thrust into you, your soft body pressed against his.

Ironically enough, you reminded him of the artwork ‘Venus and Adonis’, which he had seen during a visit to the Met as a kid.

But it wasn’t just your body that made his dick twitch with desire.

Your eyes still had that fire from when you were kids, and your gaze could smolder him on the spot if he locked eyes with you for too long. Your lips alone were enough to make him fantasize about you on your knees with your mouth stuffed with his cock, moaning around him as he came down your throat.

Fuck, did he want you. He was getting hard just imagining all the ways he could bend you over and fuck you until you were an incoherent mess.

A hand on his shoulder followed by his name snapped him out of his thoughts, and he changed his focus to the petite redhead staring up at him with a coy smile on her face.

“Hey, Rafe.”

“Hey, Amber, what’s up?” he greeted distractingly before redirecting his gaze back to you.

His brow furrowed as he noticed a guy approach you and start to dance right behind you, a hand going on your hip as he said something in your ear. Rafe could almost hear his jaw unclench as he saw you shake your head and bat the dude’s hand away, successfully making him leave you alone after that.

“What?” he asked, focusing again on the redhead that had said something to him.

“Was wondering if you have some of the… you know…” she shrugged and leaned against him before whispering, “The white stuff.”

“Got money to pay for it?” he asked straight, taking another sip of his beer as his gaze involuntary moved back to you, still dancing by the pool and thankfully on your own.

“No,” said Amber, her hand tracing patterns on his chest, “but I’m sure we can get to some kind of agreement…”

Rafe scoffed, her double meaning clear to him. It was not the first time she offered him a fuck or a blowjob in exchange for some grams of coke, and it wouldn’t be the last. Hell, any other night and he wouldn’t have hesitated to lock himself with her in the nearest room and let her ride his dick until he came.

But not tonight. She was not who he wanted.

“Sorry, Amber, no money no coke. That shit’s expensive.”

“Oh, c’mon, Rafe–”

“Just fuck off, will you?” he snapped, shaking her hand off of him. “Not in the mood tonight.”

He heard her gasp and curse at him before storming out, but he couldn’t care less if he had offended her.

Right now, you were walking towards him.

He took another gulp of his beer as he tried to act nonchalant; the last thing he needed was for you to notice his constant stare.

But then it happened. Just as you passed by him, so close he could see the beauty marks on your neck, you looked up at him and your lips twitched before you calmy broke eye contact and walked inside the house.

Rafe took a deep breath as he considered following you. You were trying to drive him insane on purpose, it was the only explanation. Why, though? That was a question he was dying to know the answer to. It didn’t even make sense, given your history.

But things had been… off for a while now. He hadn’t even thought much about it until you had smiled at him during one of your shifts at the country club, gaze bearing into his as you refilled his glass. You never smiled at him. Never. And you had definitely never looked at him with anything other than annoyance and contempt in your eyes. That look you had sent him though (so similar to the look you sent him just now), whatever it meant – and he was sure it meant something – that shifted something in him.

After that, it was like he was seeing you everywhere.

He was at the country club; there you were, catching his eye as you served drinks and took orders. He was at the beach with his friends; oh, there you were hanging around your pogue cousin and his pogue friends. But seeing you at a party? A party thrown by kooks, of all people? That was when he started paying attention.

Fuck it, he whispered to himself before downing the rest of his beer.

His feet were dragging him inside the house before he could register the decision to follow you, and Rafe passed by the other partygoers as he looked around for you. He ended up finding you in the kitchen, leaning against the marble counter as you sipped on a glass of water and checked your phone.

He hesitated for a second by the threshold, unsure of what to say, but it didn’t last when you finally noticed him, brows raising as he approached you with a smirk.

You were going to fucking end him.

“V-E-N-U-S,” he spelled as a way of greeting, “long time no see.”

“R-A-F-E,” you imitated in a mocking tone, looking at him with a raised brow. “You know your friends are doing coke in the living room, right? Not here.”

Your expression – together with the mocking movement of you wiping your nose – wiped the smirk off his face, making him bite the inside of his cheek as he tried not to let his temper get the better of him. He wasn’t expecting a conversation with you to go smoothly, but he wasn’t expecting such clear animosity.

He let out a fake laugh and tilted his head to the side as he took a step further into your personal space, suddenly wanting to make you as uncomfortable as you were making him.

“Ha ha ha, aren’t you hilarious. Nah, I was just wondering what a pogue like you does at a party like this…” he said, bite clear in his tone. “Your cousin doesn’t let you hang out with him and his loser friends anymore, is that it?”

Rafe grinned at the glint of growing fury in your eyes.

Let it all out, baby.

“Not that is any of your business, but this pogue is a big girl,” you said with a fake smile, hands on your waist as you stared up at him. “I can go to whatever party I want and, also, I’m not always around John B.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip as he looked down at your tits, “you’re a big girl, all right.”

Your eyes grew wide at his words, and you scoffed before crossing your arms over your chest, only giving him a bigger eyeful of your breasts. Fuck, he had to get his mouth on those.

“Fat jokes, Rafe? Really?” you said, raising a brow as he sent you a sneer. “How pubescent of you. You really haven’t changed, huh? Just the same mean rich kid.”

“Oh, c’mon Venus, are you still upset over high school? We’re adults now, can’t we put that shit behind us?” He offered you his hand in a clear peace offering and you scoffed, looking down at it like it had personally offended you. “Look, I’m sorry okay, for everything. Can you forgive me?”

He actually meant it, as odd as it was; especially if he got something else out of it. Rafe would apologize a thousand times if it assured him he would get a taste of you.

“Hmm...” you patted your lower lip in pretend contemplation, and Rafe had to control himself not to replace your finger with his. “Let’s see… besides all the things you said and did to me when we were teenagers – which, I confess, I’m still not over – you have tried to hurt my cousin one too many times for me to even consider forgiving you so… how about – no.”

Rafe dropped his hand with a sigh and an eye roll.

“Really mature of you.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you’re one to talk,” you scoffed as you purposely bumped against his side as you walked past him in direction of the sink to refill your glass. “Leave me alone and stop being a fucking creep, I know you and your friends have been staring at my ass all night.”

Rafe didn’t mean for the next words to leave his lips.

“Then maybe stop fucking walking around like you want me to spank it.”

A few seconds went by where neither of you said a word, your back still turned to him as you refilled your glass. He heard as you turned the faucet off, another moment passing before you slowly turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“What did you say?”

“What, is that not what you want when you lean over right in front of me at the country club?”

You snorted before taking a sip of your water and spilling the rest in the sink, setting the now-empty glass on the counter before sending him a very familiar look of disdain.

“You’re honest to god disgusting.”

“Okay, listen…” He took a deep breath as he chose the right words, seeing his efforts to get on your good side going down the drain. “I know that you hate me given our history, but–”

“Whatever you’re gonna say – don’t,” you stated, pushing him aside as you left the kitchen.

Rafe watched with mouth agape, brows furrowing and hands closing to fists as you pushed him aside and left the kitchen.

“You know what? Fucking fine!” he snapped at your back as he controlled himself not to go after you. “Be a bitch about it If you want, why do I care!”

Fuck you for being such a stuck-up and disrespectful bitch. No piece of ass was worth the way you backtalked. Screw apologizing, and screw you. You should be thankful he even looked at you in any way that wasn’t revulsion.

With a frustrated slap against the countertop and a growing need to punch someone, Rafe left the kitchen after you, set on making you regret your attitude by the end of the night.

«»«»«»«»«»

“Hey, bro, you all right?” Topper asked from his seat next to Rafe.

“Yeah, why?” the blond answered as he took a drag of the cigarette in between his fingers.

The party was still ongoing, with people dancing and getting drunker by the hour, including Rafe. His temper had subsided somewhat after another beer and some lines of coke, but the cogs in his brain were still turning as he concocted a plan that would make you swallow your words (and something else, if he was lucky).

He still hadn’t been able to stop himself from staring at you, but drinking was helping him not give a shit about it. He could look at whatever and whomever he pleased, and it was no one’s business – including yours. If you didn’t like it, you were more than welcome to leave his vicinity.

Rafe knew you knew he was watching you. You glanced at him from time to time, never giving him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm under his gaze. That was making his temper rise but, more than that, was seeing you sitting by the pool with some guy chatting you up (with his hand dangerously close to your thigh, he couldn’t help but note with a tick of his jaw).

“Just noticed you’ve been… distracted all night.”

“And? That a problem?”

“Not at all…” Topper answered nonchalantly, pausing for a moment before adding, “Venus looks pretty hot, doesn’t she?”

That made Rafe break his intense stare on you to focus on Topper, the other blond raising his hands at the confrontation in his eyes.

“Wow, man, easy,” he chuckled. “Can’t blame you for staring at her all night.”

“I haven’t been staring at her all night.”

“Sure, you haven’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rafe asked, starting to get particularly annoyed by the tone in his friend’s voice. “Just say whatever you wanna say, Topper.”

“Chill, bro, just noticed you seem pretty interested in her, that’s all,” he explained with a nod in your direction. “You guys made amends or something?”

“Nah, she still hates my guts and she’s still a major bitch.”

“Well, can’t blame her…”

“You’re one to talk, Top. As far as I remember, you were there too.”

“Yeah, but I’ve actually apologized for it like ages ago. She has been pretty friendly lately, that’s why I asked. Plus,” Topper paused to take a sip of his drink, “she has been staring at you a lot too.”

Rafe had nothing to say to that, just grunting in acknowledgment as he finished his beer in one swift gulp before standing up and stretching his arms above his head, sighing as his joints popped.

“Gonna take a leak, be right back.”

This time, he didn’t go back to his friends. No, he wanted to look at you closer, make sure you knew he wasn’t one to be played with. You weren’t kids anymore, but he could still make your life hell if he felt like it. If you wanted to be a bitch, then he would be a bitch back.

And that’s why he sat right beside you by the pool, so close he noticed you flinching when he sat down and his hip bumped yours, his foot also lightly touching yours as he submerged his legs in the heated pool water. You gave him no reaction besides that, your tone of voice unchanged as you kept talking and laughing as if he wasn’t even there.

“I actually don’t have the game, but I love watching playthroughs on Youtube,” he heard you say in an enthusiastic tone. “Would love to play it someday though, I have the books and they’re pretty great.”

Rafe leaned back on his hand and watched you both, a new cigarette in between his lips, chuckling as he noticed the little shimmy you did as you tried to move as far away from him as you could without sitting on the other guy’s lap.

“No way you haven’t played them!” the dude exclaimed, leaning closer to you. “I have them all on PS5. You know what, why don’t you come by my house someday, we can play together.”

“I would–”

Rafe snorted, followed by a laugh as you stopped whatever you were going to say. He tried to just sit there and breathe down your neck. He really did. But he couldn’t stand listening to that fucking guy anymore.

“Of for fuck’s sake, dude, will you shut the fuck up with that nerdy shit?”

He watched as both you and your friend finally shut up, the easy smile on your face being replaced by a scowl as you turned to him, mouth open to no doubt tell him to go fuck himself.

“Rafe, c’mon man, what’s your problem?”

Ryan. Or was it Brian? Rafe didn’t care what the dude’s name was, but he was pretty close to just giving it a go and trying to drown the guy for even daring to talk back at him. His dad was some distinguished surgeon or some shit, so Rafe knew that if he got into a fight with him consequences would inevitably come in the form of Ward, but honestly? He couldn’t care less right now.

“Me?” he asked in mock surprise, pointing at himself with a scoff before throwing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “Oh, I got no problem. But I would really appreciate it if you would just fuck off so I could talk with my girl here. You know, I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to fuck her right anyway. She’s, well, she’s not a small girl and I don’t see a lot of muscle on you so–”

Your elbow hitting his side was enough for him to let you go with a huff. Rafe just stared as you stood up in a hurry, the eyes of the people that had noticed the altercation following you as you stormed off.

He watched you go, content with himself, eyes darkening as he focused on the other guy again.

“Lucky for you,” he started, threat clear in his voice as he stood up, “I got more important shit to do right now.”

With that, he stormed off after you.

He found you by the front lawn, where you now stood in a pair of shorts and a fine jacket, your phone in hand as you no doubt called someone to come get you. Rafe didn’t even hesitate before snatching the phone from your hand, putting it against his own ear as the familiar voice of John B called your name.

“Yeah, sorry, she’s busy right now,” he said, not waiting to hear the response as he disconnected the call.

“Hey, are you fucking insane?” you exclaimed as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Nah, just drunk,” Rafe laughed as he held the phone above his head and out of your reach, watching you jump and press yourself against him in your sad attempts at getting the device back.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you said with a swat at his chest before taking a step back and extending him your hand. “Give me back my phone, you asshole!”

“What’s in it for me?” he dared with a smirk.

“Not getting kicked in the dick, for starters,” you replied, still demanding your phone. “Also, can you tell me why the fuck did you act like a complete idiot back there? First, you insult me, then you keep staring at me like some perv, and now you just tried to… what, exactly? Embarrass me in front of everyone by causing a scene?”

“You should thank me, that dude had bad intentions.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause your intentions towards me are so pure.”

He paused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not some naïve little girl, Rafe. What, think I wouldn’t know why you’ve been staring at me like I’m the last cookie in the jar?”

“Okay, listen, whatever you think you saw–”

“What, embarrassed to admit you wanna fuck the fat girl?”

“Be careful, Venus,” he warned, eyes slanting as he took a step towards you. “Sometimes words backfire.”

“Oh, so you don’t want to fuck me?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to?”

You did nothing but stare into each other’s eyes for what to Rafe felt like an eternity. He could see the fire in your gaze, feel the desire burning inside him as his dick hardened under his shorts at the sight of your chest right in his face and your lips so close to his. All he had to do was to grab you by the back of your neck and press his lips against yours. Just a simple move and he would know what your lips tasted like.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me even if I let you,” you broke the spell, fingers touching his chest as you pushed him away, challenge in your eyes.

A moment passed. Then Rafe smirked.

“Bet.”

You shrieked as he picked you up and over his shoulder, and he huffed out a laugh as you screamed his name and thrashed against his hold. Sure, you were heavier than any other girl he had done this to, but you were nothing he couldn’t handle. With a slap to your ass and a hand on your shorts to stabilize you, he returned inside the house like a man who had just hunted down the big prize.

He ignored your screams of his name and your fists against his back, barely noticing everyone’s eyes on him as he took the stairs one by one.

He opened an unlocked door, commanding the half-naked couple in there to leave before throwing you on the bed without ceremony.

“Oh, I’m gonna make you regret this!” you shouted as he locked the door. “You can bet I’m gonna spit on every single one of your drinks from now–”

He shut you up by cradling your face and pulling you up into a deep kiss, tongue swiftly passing by your parted lips as you weakly tried to push him off. A bite on his tongue made him grunt and pull away, only to see you staring at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest, a small stain of his blood on your lips.

“I couldn’t care less if you spit in my drinks,” he said as his thumb grazed your lip to collect his blood before pushing it in against your tongue. “Now be a good girl and suck on it.”

He couldn’t say he was surprised when you bit him instead, pushing him away as you crawled further to the other side of the bed, a look of unease and want mixing in your heated gaze.

That look was enough for him to decide how this night was going to go.

“Touch me again and I’ll bite your dick off.”

“Do you imagine my dick in your mouth that often?”

“Ugh, you’re such a pig!”

Rafe took off his shirt in one swift move, throwing it somewhere in the room before getting on his hands and knees on the mattress, eyes never leaving yours as he crawled closer.

“I can be worse if you let me.”

“Rafe–”

“What?” he asked as he successfully trapped you under his frame, lips brushing against your neck as he whispered in your ear. “Is the big bad girl scared?”

One of his hands found its way to one of your tits, palming the soft mound over your bikini. His dick jolted as you let out a soft moan, and he laughed at how well everything was going. He never thought of you as the kind of girl that would just lay there while he, Rafe Cameron of all people, touched you like this. If he knew this, he would’ve had his way with you years ago.

Years ago. He almost wanted to hit himself from how stupid younger Rafe had been.

He took your mouth in his, smiling into the kiss as you kissed him back, hands on his shoulders pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. Rafe took that opportunity to get himself comfortable in between your thighs, moaning as his erection grazed against your core.

He had to get you naked.

“No, Rafe, we can’t… we should stop,” you mumbled against his lips.

But the blond didn’t stop kissing you, going from your lips to sucking at the skin of your neck as his hand wandered past the waistline of your shorts. You smelled so fucking good, and your skin was so damn soft he wanted nothing more than press himself against you as he fucked you hard and deep.

“Give me a good reason to,” he drawled in your ear as his fingers found your hot core.

You gasped as he pressed against you, and he couldn’t help but notice how your nails gripped his shoulders and your back arched at his ministrations. He rolled his hips against yours, smiling at your sudden lack of words. You wanted this as much as he did, no point in hiding that from him now. Not when he could feel how wet you were under the fabric of your bikini, not when your thighs shook, and your chest heaved like you couldn’t wait to have him inside you.

In one swift move, he sat back with his legs folded under him, pulling you with him in the process. You gasped as he sat you in his lap, legs on either side of his hips.

Whatever you were about to say got lost when he kissed you with the ferocity of a man that wasn’t about to let anything stop him from getting what he wanted. Even if that someone was you. He was going to fuck you tonight; of that he was sure.

“Be a good girl for me and relax,” he said as he slid the straps of your bikini down your shoulders, finally exposing your breasts.

Rafe nearly groaned as he finally got sight of them, big and soft and warm under his palm. He wasted no time in popping a nipple into his mouth, moaning as the bud hardened under his tongue. You yelped and put your arms around his head, caging him against your chest as you arched it against his face.

Good, he thought with a nib to your flesh, I could suck on these for days.

The hand that wasn’t busy kneading your other breast curled around your waist, keeping you close to his body as you swayed in his hold, your soft moans filling his ears.

“Do you have any idea of what you’ve been doing to me?” he asked as he grazed his lips and tongue over both of your tits, hands going down your body to palm your ass over your shorts. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane...”

You didn’t bother acknowledging his words besides a soft hum. He glanced up at you, biting his lip at the sight of your heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips. Everything in you was screaming at him to take you, fuck you so hard everyone in this house would hear you scream his name, pump you so full of his cum that you would have to leave this room with it dripping down your thighs like the whore you were. His whore.

After tonight, you belonged to Rafe Cameron, whether you wanted it or not.

You yelped in surprise as he pushed you back on the mattress, staring at him like you had just woken up from a dream. Rafe admired your tits bounce for a moment before focusing on unzipping your shorts, pulling them down your legs with no hesitation before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your bottoms and giving it the same treatment.

He licked his lips at the sight of your pussy waiting for him in between your plush thighs, gaze darkening as he noticed how you were already glistening with arousal. His gaze went up and down your naked body several times, drinking in your curves and rolls, beyond turned on by the vision that was you naked and blushing under him.

“Soaking wet for me, aren’t you?”

He touched your clit then, smirking at the gasp you let out as his fingers went up and down your slit before pushing two digits inside. He groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. You were so wet he had no doubt he would be able to sink fully into you in one swift thrust.

With that in mind, he pushed away to get himself undressed, sighing in relief as his hard cock broke free from the confinements of his underwear. He was quick on going back to his place on top of you, spreading your legs open as he lined up with your core.

He was pressed against you – the tip of his cock wet with your arousal and lips on the curve of your neck as he readied himself to take you – when you slapped his shoulder hard enough to break him out of his lusty state.

“What?” he asked, starting to get annoyed by your constant interruption. “You’re regretting it now?”

“No,” you said before surprising him by pushing him onto the mattress and straddling his hips. “I just like to be on top.”

When you sank down onto him, your velvety walls squeezing his dick, he could swear he saw stars. Rafe gripped your hips as you started bouncing up and down his length, eyes locked on yours as he forced you down on him in sync with your movements.

“How many times have you touched yourself while thinking of me?” he asked, smirking at the look you sent him.

“I could ask you the same–”

You moaned as he slapped your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh only making you clench tighter around him. He was living the dream, buried deep inside you as your tits bounced in his face, your fucked up expression making something akin to male pride swell in his chest. You were enjoying having his dick inside you as much as he was.

His hands roamed your body as you fucked him, head thrown back in continuous moans and body shivering in pleasure as he started rubbing circles on your clit.

“Oh my god, don’t stop,” you moaned as you leaned over to support yourself on his chest.

Your moans and whimpers were like music to his ears, and he quickly realized he wouldn’t get tired of fucking you so soon; not when you looked and sounded like that while dripping down his cock.

He wanted more.

In one swift movement, he turned your body around, pushing you back on the mattress before grabbing your legs by the back of your knees and folding you in half. This was how he wanted you; on your back with your legs spread and ready to get fucked senseless.

“Oh fuck!” you moaned with a high-pitched scream as he sank back into you, filling you up to the brim.

The sound of his hips hitting the back of your thighs filled the room, mixing with your moans and whimpers as he fucked you at a ruthless pace, forcing your body up the mattress with every hard thrust. Your eyes were closed, and your head was thrown back, giving him full access to your neck as he lapped and nibbed all over your pulse and collarbone, enjoying your scent mixed with his.

“You take my dick so well,” he whispered in your ear, his words followed by a deep thrust that made you yelp his name. “Yeah, just like that, scream my name. Let everyone know who’s fucking you this good.”

He could feel your pussy clench around him like a vice at his words, sucking him in like you didn’t want to let him go.

“R-Rafe, don’t stop please, I’m so close.”

He obeyed your request, dying to see you unravel beneath him. Rafe didn’t stop fucking you even as you came, your legs shaking and pussy fluttering around him as you let out a muffled sob. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He wanted to make you come like that again.

You moaned when he pulled out, eyes opening to glance at him with a question on your lips before he surprised you by twisting your hips to the side.

“Get on all fours,” he ordered. “Ass up.”

“You’re way too bossy for your own good,” you mumbled, abiding by his order all the same.

He chuckled at your words with a loud slap to your ass, grabbing his glistening erection before pushing again inside your dripping folds. You both moaned in unison as he entered you, hands keeping your hips in place as he settled on a rhythm.

Fucking you in this position – ass jiggling as he filled you up and hand gripping your hair, completely at his mercy – made him almost slap himself from how stupid he had been in the past. He wasted all this time looking down on you only to now wish he had been fucking you from day one.

“I should’ve fucked you back in high school,” he growled in your ear as he pressed his chest to your back.

“Like I would’ve let you.”

“You’re letting me fuck you now, aren’t you? On all fours, taking my dick like the good little slut that you are.”

“Oh, shut up asshole. Just come already.”

Rafe chuckled at that, grabbing your chin and turning your face to him before giving you a rough kiss, teeth clashing and pulling at your lip before he promised you, “Keep talking like that and I might just put that smart mouth to good use.”

You laughed then, a moan quickly wiping the smirk off your face as Rafe started touching your clit again, fingers expertly touching you just as he figured out you liked it.

“Come around my cock one more time, baby,” he purred as he sped up his thrusts, his movements shallower as he felt himself near the edge. “Come around me before I stuff you full of my cum.”

“Come inside me and you’re dead.”

Rafe laughed, not at all threatened by your words. Nothing was stopping him from coming inside you, consequences be dammed. You would leave this room with something to remember him by.

He came undone as you orgasmed a second time, firmly holding you by the hips as he came inside you as deep as he could, set on riding both your orgasms for as long as he could.

You both lay on the bed when he was done, a mess of tangled and sweaty limbs as Rafe refused to pull out and drag himself away from you.

“Can you get off of me?” you mumbled after a moment of nothing but panting.

Rafe took a deep breath, not saying anything as he savored your body pressed comfortably against his, soft skin warm and damp like his own. He wanted to prolong the moment, knowing damn well that you would go back to despise him as soon as he pulled out of you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he would rather not go back to how things were, no matter how entertaining the beef you had going on was.

“Rafe…”

He sighed and pulled out without a word, sitting back against the headboard as he watched you stand up and start looking around for your clothes, giving him a nice view of your ass as you leaned over to grab your discarded bikini and shorts.

That familiar tension sat between you in the heavy air as you got dressed without any words shared between you. In the meanwhile, Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off of you, waiting for your next move.

No way he would let you leave as if nothing had happened.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked after he was fully dressed, watching as you texted someone on your phone.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this was not supposed to happen,” you said with a shrug. “And it’s definitely not happening again.”

He held your gaze for a moment, taking a step in your direction as you made a move to leave.

“Oh yeah?” he said as he tilted your chin up. “Says who?”

“I do,” you said, batting his hand away before walking past him and opening the door. “Goodbye, Rafe.”

Rafe wasn’t an inflexible man; if you wanted to leave, he would let you. But if there was something he was, was stubborn. For tonight he would leave you be, but he couldn’t promise that tomorrow – or every day after that – would be met with the same leniency.

You would be his, and that wasn’t up for discussion.

«»«»«»«»

Part 2 ->

#outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron smut

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alluringwaves · 1 year

Text

don’t marry him! percy jackson ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

aged up!percy jackson x fem!chase!reader

a love confession like amy and laurie’s from little women with percy and his best friend‘s, annabeth chase’s, sister.

genre; best friends to lovers

warnings; ooc!percy (?)

Percy Jackson had been your best friend since you were fourteen and you had to go with him and the hunters of Artemis on a quest to save Artemis and also your sister, Annabeth.

This was the start of your friendship and you had always thought he was kind of cute, well as cute as a fourteen year old boy going through puberty can be. But the closer you became, the stronger your feelings for him got, but you never said anything because you knew that Annabeth liked him and she was your sister.

Besides, you knew Percy liked Annabeth so he would never return your feelings for him.

Years went by with Percy still being your best friend. During the years, Percy and Annabeth had started dating but they broke up when they realized they were better off as friends. But when that happened, you were already dating someone else, someone who you thought was good enough to make you happy for the rest of your life.

Even though your feelings for him weren’t as strong as your feelings for Percy used to be.

Now you’re 25 and your boyfriend proposed to you. And you said yes.

When Percy heard about it, he felt like his world was crumbling down. You, the girl he had a crush on since he was twelve and saw her at Camp Halfblood for the first time was getting married.

For him it has always been you, but when he was seventeen, he decided to be stupid. He thought that you would never return his feelings, so he thought it was best to move on from you and soon he found himself in a relationship with Annabeth, your sister.

It didn’t take long for the both of them notice that they never really saw each other in a romantic way and decided to stay friends instead. But when they broke up Annabeth told him that she knew about his feelings for you and that you also return those feelings.

When Percy went to talk to you about it, it was already too late. You were in a relationship with someone else, someone else who was not him.

So when Percy heard about your engagement he knew he had to come and see you, he knew he had to speak now or he would loose his one chance of being with you.

You were at your apartment when he came knocking at your door like a mad man, luckily your fiancée was not home, he doesn’t like Percy very much. When you opened the door Percy was breathing heavily and staring at you with such an intensity in his eyes that you had to look to the ground to regain yourself again.

He still had that effect on you, even eleven years later.

“Don’t marry him.” He says.

Your heart drops.

A beat passes.

“What?”

Without your invitation he moved past you into your apartment. You couldn’t do anything but stare at the place he was just standing at, with your back now facing him.

Percy sighs and even though you can’t see it you know exactly the face he’s making right now, he has his eyes squeezed shut and his lips pressed tightly together.

“Don’t marry him.” He speaks again.

This time, you close the door and turn around to face him. Your heart beats so fast you’re afraid he can see it.

“Why?” You ask him, head tilted and eyes squinted so he wouldn’t see what he was actually making you feel, like you were fourteen and in love again. But he sees right through you, because he knows you.

He tilts his head, mimicking your expression, you know he has a habit of doing that, “You know why.”

You shake your head, “No I don’t.” You whisper out. But oh gods you do. You are staring directly into his eyes with such warmth that it makes him feel dizzy.

He stares back. “Yes you do.”

You shake your head once more, pressing your lips together, “No. No. You don’t get to do this to me. Not now.”

He takes a step closer, “Yes.”

You see his hand reaching out for you but you take a step back.

“No. Percy, you’re being mean. Stop it.” Your voice is barely a hoarse whisper and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You squeeze them shut so he wouldn’t see you cry. “You don’t get to say that. Not now. Not when I’m engaged damn it. Not when I’m finally happy.”

He brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “You’re lying and we both know it. I know you. I know you when you’re happy. Do you seriously want to spend the rest of your life with someone that only makes you half as happy as you deserve to be?”

You push his hand away and the tears start falling freely. “It’s better than not being happy at all. Gods. Percy you’re just lonely because you’re not with Annabeth, it’s okay to admit that, you don’t want me like that.”

“What? No you don’t get to say that. Not when I’ve been in love with you since you since we were twelve.”

You looked at him like a wounded animal. “Then why were you in a relationship with my sister? Huh? I always saw the way you looked at her, you’ve been in love with her since we were twelve.”

You let out a long sigh, and stare to the ground. "I have been second to Annabeth my whole life, in everything. I will not be second to her in this. And I won't be the person you settle for just because you can not have her.” You lift up your head, meeting his eyes.

“Please, y/n.” He pleads. “I’m in love with you, not with her. You won’t be second to her, because you’ve always come first for me.”

“Stop it. I won't. I can't do it, Percy. Not when I’ve spent almost my entire life loving you.” You turn around and open the door and mention for him to leave.

To your surprise he does without saying anything.

But when he’s out of the door, he turns to look you in the eyes one last time before he’s gone.

You’re dressed in all black and standing in front your fathers grave when Annabeth comes to stand next to you. It’s true, you’ve never had that much of a close relationship like the Stoll brothers for example, but you loved her dearly.

But even though, you’re only one year younger than her you can’t help but feel as though she is centuries older than you.

She has always been so much wiser than you, and that’s mostly because Athena is her mother and not yours, but she always knew things and she knew how to keep her emotions in check.

When you were younger, you were secretly jealous of her friendship with Percy and Grover. The three of them seemed so happy with each other, but you didn’t dare to talk to the three of them because you thought they didn’t want you in their group.

So you chose to watch them from afar.

And then your sister went missing and it felt like your whole world was caving in. So you went on a quest to save her and that’s when you really got to know Percy, and he became your best friend.

When Annabeth returned home, you two became a whole lot closer and soon you found yourself in their friend group.

“I’m going to miss him.” Annabeth’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Her voice is firm, yet gentle, like an older sisters voice is supposed to be and you want to cuddle into her and make her read her favorite book to you just like she did when you were kids.

Your lips tremble and your hand reaches for hers, “Yeah, me too.”

All of the sudden, Annabeth turns around to face you and she asks, “Why did you turn down Percy?”

“What?” You ask flabbergasted. “How do you know about that?”

She looks you in the eyes, “He told me. So why did you turn him down? I know about your feelings for him, and I know how he feels about you.”

“I was engaged Annabeth. Besides, he only wants me, because he can’t have you. And I’m not gonna go and play second choice just because he’s lonely.” You tell her, and try to avoid your gaze because you know, the second she looks you in the eyes it’s like she can see right through you.

“That’s not true.” She says.

“What?”

“That’s not true. Y/n, that boy has been in love with you since he saw you at Camp Halfblood for the first time. It’s always been you, and I’m not mad about that. Me and him were only together because we had been confused because of the war and all it’s losses.” She says that with so much honesty it makes you almost dizzy. “He loves you. And you’d be an idiot to turn him down when I know you feel the same. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have blown off your engagement.”

She leaves before you can say anything.

But you’re not alone for long, because Percy fills in the space where Annabeth was just standing.

You don’t look at him.

“I came as soon as I heard. I know I didn’t know your father very well, but I didn’t want you to be alone.” He says and you can feel his gaze burning into you.

“I’m not alone, I have Annabeth.” But you knew you also needed Percy, he was still your best friend after all.

Then it’s silent.

“He’s never gonna see me get married one day. He’ll never get to meet his grandchildren.” You manage to get out because suddenly your eyes were filled with tears again. “I’m gonna miss him so much.”

Without saying anything, he pulls you into a hug. And you let him. He smells like the ocean and also mint, he smells like home.

You pull away and he wipes the tears off your cheeks and with his hands.

You take a deep breath and say, “I’m not marrying him.”

He looks down at you, “Yeah, I heard about that.”

"And you don’t have to say anything or do anything. It just didn't feel right. We don't need to say anything.” You say before he can he can say anything.

But Percy interrupts you by putting his hands on your cheeks, pulling your face to his and laying his lips on yours.

You feel warm and fuzzy inside and it makes you feel like you’re thirteen with a crush again. The kiss is gentle, and you know he puts all his love and adoration for you into it and you return it with just as much love and emotion.

When you pull away for air, you’re both smiling from ear to ear.

“Gods, I love you so much.” He says before pulling you into another kiss. This time, it’s messy and full of smiles you can both barely contain but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #annabeth chase #x reader #imagine #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson oneshot #pjo #pjoverse #riordianverse #pjo oneshot #pjo x reader #[🩷] lana writes #little women

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absurdthirst · 8 months

Text

The Dornish Sun {Oberyn Martell x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.1k

Warnings: Step Uncle/Niece relationship, slight age gap, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving), loss of virginity, pregnancy, childbirth, angst, infidelity, heartbreak, war, murder, rape, threesomes, mff relationship, poisoning, revenge

Comments: Of course a love story with Oberyn Martell would be tumultuous. Especially when the Seven Kingdoms is in chaos and the Baratheon rebellion breaks out.

A/N: You know that scene in HOTD where Rhaenyra leaves her birthing bed to take the baby to see the Queen? That completely inspired this.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - this story contains canonical events including murder and rape (Elia Martell)🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Doran Martell married your mother and took you as his own daughter when you were eight years old. Carrying you away from the moldering estates you were born on and you had finished growing up in the castle at Sunspear and then later the Water Gardens when your father had grown too ill to stay in the steeply staircased fortress with his wheelchair.

The day you met Oberyn, his youngest sibling and only brother, you had fallen in love. His chiseled jaw, uncaring demeanor and his delight in allowing you to follow him around had created a painful crush for you, your cheeks heating to near flames when he had picked you up as a towering teenager of fourteen. He was your handsome red viper as you heard others call him and you had decided then and there that one day, you would marry Oberyn and become his princess.

When you were a woman grown, your crush had not waned. Growing even deeper and embedding in your heart to where no one but Oberyn would do, you argued with your papa that you should be aligned with the second born heir to House Martell, solidifying your place in the family and your own succession if Arianne did not wish to take over when your father passed. It did not help that you could tell Oberyn wanted you, his eyes following you as you went about your duties, the small smirk on his lips far from familial affection.

“Give me one reason, a good reason why I cannot marry for love?” You ask, your jaw set in stubborn determination as you look over at your father, the subject of husbands ones that you are tired of talking about. You do not want any of the men your father has suggested would make good husbands. “You married mother for love.”

Doran sighs, rubbing his cheek, “that was different. Your mother…Oberyn is your uncle.” Doran argues and you shake your head.

“We are not blood. He is my uncle in name only.” You counter. Your own lord father had passed when you were aged six, meaning your mother was eligible to marry Doran and thus you have younger half siblings.

“It will not look good to our enemies. Allowing my daughter to marry my brother…they will cry out in protest.” Doran argues and you scoff.

“Like the Lannister rumors aren’t worse?” You argue and Doran shakes his head.

“I do not care about the Lannisters. You are my daughter and you shall marry to help our alliances. A lord from the North, a Stark, has asked for your hand. You will be marrying him.”

“I do not want to leave Dorne.” You frown, unable to even imagine living in the cold north with those joyless Starks. Duty and winter coming are all they care about, you had not been impressed when you had met them two years ago when Ned Stark and another had traveled to Dorne to speak with your father. “I wish to feel the sun on my skin, the sand under my feet. I belong here.”

“You belong where I tell you that you belong. You will marry the Stark boy. You will allow our alliances to continue and you will do your duty. Seven hells, I saved you and your mother from a destitute life and you shall repay me for that.” Doran’s tone is final, no longer the loving father you’ve come to adore, no, he’s a prince. A leader.

You hiss in anger, pushing away from the table with a loud screech from your chair and rushing away. Heartbroken and angry that your father would condemn you to a fate that in your mind is worse than death. Running through the halls towards the gardens, your slippers are silent on the stone floors and your floating dress flaps behind you. You will not marry a Stark, you will not.

Oberyn is walking down the hallway when he sees you running. He reaches out to stop you, his hands on your shoulders. “My sun, why are you running? Surely my brother has not been so cruel as to make you run away from the beautiful gardens?” He coos, cupping your cheeks when you look at him, tears in your eyes.

“Father is sending me to Winterfell.” You close your eyes and the tears slip down your cheek. “I am to be wed to a Stark, to live my days in the snows of the North where the sun freezes.” You swallow and open your eyes again, looking into his dark orbs. “I - I do not want to wed into that house. I wish to stay here, with you - and father.”

The look in Oberyn's eyes is harsh, soft gaze turns to steel as he imagines you in Winterfell, belonging to another man. No, he won't allow it. Despite his brother's urges that he should find a bride, Oberyn has been unable to move on from you. You - you are his niece by name but not by blood yet the guilt of wanting you, of loving you, has never waned. However, to imagine you with another...it's more than Oberyn can take. "Come with me to my rooms, we shall drink some wine and discuss what can be done to change my brother's mind." He cups your cheek before taking your hand, eager to guide you to his chambers.

You follow him willingly and will follow him anywhere. His exile several years ago had been hard to deal with and you had often come to his chambers to sleep while he was gone, the servants finding you asleep in his bed. Now, you spend less time with him since you are a lady, your father wanting you to appear more mature for your station and years. Despite the lax nature of Dorne compared to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, you are still under scrutiny.

“Oberyn.” He squeezes your hand and you fall silent, entering the large bedchamber and watching as he lets go of your hand to walk over to the pitcher of wine that is ever present on a table along with his favored berries.

Oberyn pours you a glass, handing you the goblet before repeating the action for himself. “Sit.” He orders, pointing to the loveseat and he brings you the wine and sits down beside you. “Tell me why you do not wish to marry a Stark.” He wants to hear you say what he suspects but he won’t show his hand just yet.

Looking away, you take a sip of your wine. It would be better if you were a man and could be expected to speak plainly about such things. Even here you were not supposed to acknowledge the ache you have for a man, not while still being innocent. “Ned Stark is boring.” You whisper. “Too self righteous and I-“ you pause, glancing at your handsome uncle by marriage before you look down at your cup. “I love another.”

Oberyn isn’t dumb. He’s seen the way you look at him and he knows he should say no, that it’s foolish for you to want him…but he can’t. Not when he feels the same. He was exiled, returned home to no one but you. You talked to him, you listened to his stories and he fell in love with his niece by marriage. “Marriage is not always about love, my sun. Marriages are for alliances. Political purposes. Do you wish to put your father at a disadvantage for love? Is this love too great to ignore in favor of your duty?” He asks, having asked himself that same question many times when Doran tried to marry him off but he is far too stubborn.

“What about my duty to my own heart?” You shake your head, dismayed because you thought of all people - Oberyn would understand. “I would not be a good wife to a man I could not endure. How would I lay in his bed, under his rutting body and bear his children?” You bite your lip, sighing and lifting your cup to your lips again. “My father has other alliances, other deals he can make. My heart shouldn’t be a bartering tool.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought of you beneath him and the jealousy he feels at the thought of someone else touching you, having you. It makes his jaw clench. “You would rather have passion? A husband who wants to make you shake with pleasure? A man who will suck on your nipples until you are dripping wet, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves, making you moan until he buries his tongue deep into your cunt, working your tight heat until you nearly drown him. A man who will slide his cock into you with the aim to make you cum, make you clench around his length until your thighs are shaking, instead of purely to get you pregnant. Is that what you want, my sun?” He leans closer, his breath washing over your face.

You whimper pitifully at the vivid imagery he creates with his words. Breath hitching and you inhale the sweet scent of wine and berries from his too close mouth. Your eyes flit down, tracing the angel’s kiss on his lower lip and your tongue slides out to wet your own, having wanted to trace his lips so often that you swear you have done it before. You can barely look back up into his own dark eyes and you swear you see lust in their depths. “Yes.” You whisper, nodding and pressing your thighs together to quell the ache there. “I want y- that.”

Oberyn leans even closer, reaching for the goblet so he can set them both down on the table nearby. You exhale shakily as he moves away from you, heart pounding and you are upset he doesn’t want you, tears stinging in your eyes. Oberyn takes a moment, knowing this will change everything but he can’t hold back anymore. He wants you. He turns back, seeing the way your eyes avoid his and he tuts, surging forward to press his lips to yours but before he says “I want you, my sun.”

Melting into him, you moan into the kiss, allowing him to take over completely. Clinging to the edges of his robe, your entire body lights up with the glorious knowledge that Oberyn wants you. “Have me.” You beg when he kisses along your jaw. “I am yours.” You know you shouldn’t, that you should pull away but you don’t think about that. Too caught up in your dream coming true to act rationally.

Oberyn should pull back, he definitely shouldn't go any further than this but fuck, he has been keeping away for so long, it feels physically painful to pull back from you in this moment. His tongue slides into your mouth and he reaches for you to pull you into his lap, his breath mingling with yours as he methodically tugs on the strings that keep your robes in place.

You aren’t completely innocent. You know the reputation Oberyn has started to cultivate. It was one of the reasons why he was exiled for that dark time when you were younger. He has had lovers and yet you do not hesitate when you feel the warm air from the open windows on your skin. Your nipples are hard from need and you let him unlace your dress and strip you down with an eagerness that can’t be contained as you run your hands along his broad shoulders and slip them under the light linen brocade to touch his heated skin.

Your touch ignites something in him and he grabs your thighs, lifting you up as he stands and he throws you onto his bed. Shrugging off his robe to expose his chest and upper arms before he strides over to hover over you. “You have no idea, my sun, how many times I imagined seeing these tits.” He groans, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Gasping out his name, your eyes close in pleasure. Fingers digging into the silk sheets on his bed and twisting them in your hands while he sucks at your breast. The wet heat of his mouth is deliriously good and yet you want more, your dress pooled at your hips and you want to be bare underneath him. “P-please.” You beg, arching your back to offer yourself to him.

Oberyn isn’t in a rush, especially since he knows you are innocent. “Patience.” He tuts as he lifts up to switch to your other breast, leaning down to take it into his mouth, his dark eyes focusing on you while his hands caress your waist, one coming up to squeeze the breast he just abandoned.

You whimper, biting your lip and trying to just let yourself experience his touch. To not beg for more than he is wanting to give you right now. Your legs shift, thighs pressing together and you take advantage of him without his shirt. You had spent so much of your day drooling over his practices in the courtyards while shirtless and you touch his broad shoulders and back with a happy moan while he bites down on your nipple.

Oberyn tuts, reaching for your thighs to push them apart so he can press his body against yours, his cock hardening under his robes. He kisses your clavicle, up your neck until his body covers yours. “So eager, aren’t you? You want more?” He teases, pressing feather-like kisses to your jaw while his fingers slide under your gown, caressing your thigh.

“Yes. Please, more.” You whine, enjoying the way that his chest drags against your wet breasts. Your cunt clenches at the hardness that he is slowly grinding against you. “Oberyn.” You are in heaven right now, this is what you have always imagined and your nails drag down his back and you grab his ass in the leather breeches he is wearing, suddenly bolder than an innocent virgin should be. There is no fear, only want and need right now.

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, his fingers sliding higher until he finds your wet cunt, covered by the curls. “Mmm. So wet.” He groans softly, sliding his fingers through your folds a couple of times until he rubs your clit. “You’re so beautiful, my sun. Always - always imagined this.” He admits, knowing he’s tugged on his cock far too many times thinking about you recently. Or had another around him while he imagined it was you.

“I love you.” Your confession slips out unprompted, but you do. It has always been Oberyn since you have laid eyes on him. It will always be him. Your eyes close again and you let out a low moan while he rubs your clit as if he had done it a thousand times before. It was not like you hadn’t touched yourself before but it was so much more pleasurable with his fingers.

Your confession makes his heart thump in his chest and he knows you didn’t say it for him to say it back, you said it because it’s true. His fingers continue working your clit and he presses his lips back to yours, sliding his hand lower so he can push a finger into your tight cunt.

Gasping in delight and pleasure, your walls stretch around him, the thick finger curling up into your cunt. Grinding down on his hand wantonly, you know that this will be perfect. He is skilled and you love him, your walls clamping down around his finger while you turn your head to nip his jaw with your teeth like you have imagined doing a thousand times. You want to mark him, claim him as your own.

Oberyn groans softly at your nip, “my little sun has fire.” He chuckles, adding another finger as he pushes the digits inside of you. He wants you to feel only pleasure so he wants you dripping down his wrist. His thumb presses against your clit while his lips find yours again.

Whimpering against his neck, your arm tightens around him while he curls his fingers up. Taken beyond what you had ever been able to do yourself, you feel your legs start to shake while that tension builds up in your core. Hips meeting the thrust of his fingers on their own, your moans are uninhibited and you don’t care who would hear you beyond his doors.

Oberyn groans when your walls clamp down on his fingers when he presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, sending you over the edge. “So good, my sun. Can’t wait to be inside of you.” He murmurs, working you through it and he is determined to taste you too before he takes your innocence.

You cry out, back arching and colors burst behind your eyelids as pleasure courses through your body. “O-Oberyn!” You cling to him, shuddering and shaking underneath his touch. He keeps curling his fingers as he works you through it until you are panting out, completely wrung out.

Oberyn groans your name, loving the way you shake and the way you are already so spent. He chuckles, kissing your jaw and he shifts to kneel between your thighs, working on removing the rest of your gown so he can see all of you. “I want to see you, my sun. I want you bare. Mind, body, and soul.”

Lifting your hips, you have no shame as Oberyn strips you down to your skin. Laying in his bed as the evening rays of light shine through the slates covering his windows, you feel like this is where you are supposed to be. Watching as he rocks back onto his knees and looks down at your nude, virginal body. “I am yours.” You whisper, meaning every word.

Oberyn offers you a soft smile, nodding in understanding, and he caresses your calf before he shifts off of the bed to push his breeches down, releasing his aching cock from its confines. He desperately wants to slide into you but he can’t, he wants to taste you first.

You had not expected his mouth. When you had seen his cock, your leg had spread in anticipation of him climbing between them. Of feeling him deep inside you. Instead you gasp when his shoulders push your legs wider, his chuckle filthy when he winks at you and lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt to lick a long stripe through your folds. “Gods!” You cry out, head tilting back and fingers tangling into the silk sheets again.

Oberyn’s tongue is eager, sliding deeper inside of you and his nose presses against your clit. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing them back towards your stomach so his tongue can slide deeper into your cunt. “You taste so good.” He smacks his lips as he pulls back for a moment before he dives back in.

If his fingers were magical, his tongue is even more so. Curling deep inside you to make you squirm before he is pulling out and flicking it against your clit, pulling another gasp out of you. Lewdly learning your body in a way that you had heard of but never imagined would be as good as it is. Quickly feeling your stomach clenching as he lashes your clit again and again with his tongue and pushing you towards another orgasm.

Your thighs start to shake and press against his head and he knows you are close. He wants you to cum so he continues lashing your clit, sucking and licking until his jaw hurts and when you cry out, he buries his tongue into your walls, wanting to feel them flutter.

It was even better than your first orgasm. The rush of heat flooding your cunt makes him moan and you whimper at the way that he is eager to taste all of you, his tongue dipping back inside you. Your thighs try to close around his head but they can’t at his mercy until you are crying out again and shoving weakly at his shoulder to move him away.

Oberyn doesn’t move away right away, he smacks his lips, kissing your clit and chuckling at the way you whine so he backs off, kneeling between your legs and wrapping his fingers around his aching cock. “My sun, are you certain that this is what you want?” He asks, wanting to make sure you want him to take your innocence.

“I have loved you since I was a child, Oberyn.” Your eyes greedily stare at him, drinking in how perfect he looks hard and wanting you. You are not scared of his length or size, knowing that he was going to fit perfectly inside you as he slowly strokes himself. “I am sure that I want nothing more than for you to take my innocence.”

Oberyn nods, certain that he wants you, he has wanted you since your eight and ten name day, knowing you were a woman had shone a new light on you and he has wanted you ever since. “Tell me if it hurts. It will hurt to begin with but we will go slow.” He promises, shifting closer until he can notch his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing into you.

Your soft cry is mixed with tears as he fills you, but they are ones of joy. Lashes fluttering as you feel the weight of him starting to settle over your body and his cock butting up against the thin barrier of your innocence. His lips press against yours before he pushes through the thin barrier of your innocence and hums at the way your body locks up around him.

Oberyn leans closer to kiss away your tears, his heart pounding in his chest as he looks at your beautiful face. “Are you okay, my sun?” He asks, not moving while you adjust to his cock inside of you. You’re so hot, so tight, so wet, it’s hard to maintain control but he will.

“Perfect.” It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open but you want to see him. Reaching up and caressing his sharp cheek while he holds still over you. Wanting to commit this to memory since it is the perfect moment. “Move, my prince.” You beg him softly. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts to move, his dark eyes focused on you in case there’s any pain but all he sees is love in your eyes. It makes his heart twist. He shifts, resting his weight on his elbows so he can bury his face in your neck, kissing along it and breathing you in.

Every push of his hips makes you moan, your arms winding around his neck and your legs coming up to rest on his hips. He feels amazing and you don’t have any of the discomfort that you had secretly worried about with a husband. Oberyn is perfect and the love you have makes it even better. “Oh Gods, Obeyrn.” You whimper. “It’s so- so good.”

Your whimper spurs him on to make you cum. His arms sliding under you to pull you closer and his hips rock into you, hitting the back of your thighs. “So beautiful. So perfect.” His voice is raspy and he is desperate for you to cum for him one more time.

It is everything that you want, loving how he is starting to move steadily. Closing your eyes and moaning as he fills you again and again with the heavy stroke of his cock. Pushing you towards exquisite pleasure every time he touches deep inside you. “Oberyn.” You whimper softly.

“That’s it, my love. Cum for me. Please. Cum for me.” He grunts, pushing into you and dropping his hips so the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushes against your clit. You cry out and he knows he got the right angle. “Cum for me. Soak my cock, my sun.” He orders, kissing your neck as his breath is heavy in your ear.

When you go over the edge, your cry fills his ear. Giving into his order and your body shakes underneath him while you go exactly what he orders you to do. Soaking his cock in a hot rush of cum that sounds loud when he pushes through the resistance of your fluttering walls.

“Fuck.” Oberyn curses at how you soak him, gripping his cock in a vice but he can’t stop himself. He should pull out but the thought of filling you up, putting his seed inside of you and potentially his child has him falling over the edge within a half dozen thrusts. “Fuck!” He growls, pushing his cock deep as he cums, groaning your name while he paints your walls.

You whimper in delight at the warmth of his seed inside you. You know it is risky but you don’t care, moaning softly and stroking his back lightly while he continues to rock his hips as he rides out his high. Relaxing back into the bed when he is done and you can’t help but give a slight giggle, completely worn out by your new lover. “Wow.”

Oberyn chuckles at your reaction, glad you enjoyed it. He certainly did. “I love you, my sun.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look into your eyes. It’s true, he adores you, always has, and he has loved you since you blossomed into a woman. He kisses you, slow and deeply, his tongue sliding against yours.

You lean into the kiss, enjoying the intimacy of it while he licks into your mouth. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the nap of his neck and you sigh happily, knowing that you have gotten your wish and you will cherish it forever. When he pulls back you smile up at him. “Thank you, Oberyn. I love you.”

Oberyn caresses your cheek. “Let’s move you over and you can get some rest. You must be exhausted, my love.” He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, “I love you too. Sleep. When you awaken, we will feast on fruits and cheese, I’ll send for some more wine.” He tells you, brushing your hair back.

Having sex for the first time is surprisingly exhausting. Turning over and curling up against the pillow that Oberyn sleeps on has your eyes fluttering closed within minutes. It doesn’t hurt that he is stroking your hair and shoulder, relaxing you more than you thought it would as you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face.

Oberyn caresses you until you are asleep, then he carefully, so carefully, tugs on the sheet beneath you, easing it out from under you before he redresses. Striding down the hall, he has the sheet folded up when he enters his brother’s chambers. “Oberyn? What are you doing here?” Doran asks, a weary smile on his face for his younger brother. He loves him but he is exhausting.

“Let me marry her.” He says, chin pointed in defiance as he awaits his brother’s response.

Doran sighs and runs his hand down his face, looking over to the door as if he expects you to peek around the corner like you had when you were a child. Obviously you had run to Oberyn but he was surprised that his younger brother was entertaining your notion of love. “She will wed Ned Stark.” He tells his brother. “You will choose a wife now? After all this time?” Oberyn had always scoffed at the idea of marriage, unless he was ordered to by his brother and Doran loved him enough that he hadn’t had the heart.

Oberyn nods his head, “I will choose a wife. I choose her.” He declares.

Doran sighs, “you are going to send me to an early grave, dear brother. She is promised to Ned Stark.”

Oberyn chuckles, shaking his head. “A man as noble as Ned Stark would surely want his lady wife to be pure. To not provide him with a Dornish man’s bastard.”

Doran narrows his eyes, growing suspicious. “Oberyn…what did you do?” He hisses and Oberyn takes the sheet from behind his back, opening it to display the blood on the sheets.

“Your darling daughter’s innocence…displayed on my sheets.”

“Gods be cursed!” There is a book in Doran’s lap that is quickly hurled at Oberyn, who merely ducks it. If his mobility has not seriously deteriorated over the last year, he would challenge the boy who had been the baby of the family. “You ruined her! For what? Your pride? Another conquest? You could have all the whores in the Seven Kingdom and you chose to make my daughter - your niece - your next whore?” Doran shouts, apoplectic with rage. Oberyn is not a liar, if he said he took your innocence, then that is what is staining his sheet. “Did you fill her?”

Oberyn nods, “I did. You do not wish for Ned Stark to be saddled with my bastard, do you? It will not shine well on Dorne. Dear brother, she loves me. She wants to be mine.”

Doran shakes his head, “she doesn’t know what she wants! She is a child!” Doran growls.

“She is a woman. You have to accept that. She knows her own mind, her own heart. She loves me. I - I love her. Marry her to me. No one need know of her predicament. We can protect her. A royal wedding will please the people. Brother, she is ruined if you send her north. We are ruined.”

Doran shakes his head, dismayed and yet there is truth to his words. “You will hurt her.” He predicts sadly, sighing. “Your selfishness has ruined my daughter and our chance to align with the Starks.” He turns his head and stares out the window for a moment before his shoulders slump in defeat. What’s done is done. “You will marry her before your bastard is showing in her belly.” He decides finally in a tired voice.

****

“You may now kiss your bride.” The priest tells Oberyn who grins, surging forward to kiss you while you are covered by the Martell cloak. His fingers caress your cheeks and you smile against his lips, unable to believe he is your husband. The crowd erupts in applause, the wedding pulled together quickly to account for the babe in your belly. One time was all it took to get you pregnant…perhaps. Oberyn has indulged in his betrothed many times before today. Still, you are with child. His child. So it was best to have a swift wedding. “I love you.” He murmurs when he pulls back.

“I love you, husband.” You are beaming with pride as the two of you turn to face the people gathered. Your father’s eyes are less than pleased but he plasters a smile on his face for the sake of the occasion. “Now we have nothing to worry about.” You murmur softly, aware that the raven had been sent to Winterfell concerning your engagement to Oberyn. Rumor had it that Ned Stark had already secured another bride. Catelyn Tully would be a good match for him.

Oberyn grins, pleased at his new bride, and he guides you through the crowd to the private room reserved for you both during the celebrations. “My sun, you look gorgeous. Edible. A gift from the gods.” He leans forward to press his lips to yours, pushing the cloak off of your shoulders so he can grab your ass through your beautiful sun embroidered gown.

“Husband.” You moan, delighted at being able to use that title with Oberyn now. Since that night he had taken you to bed, you’ve discovered how much you enjoy touching him, fucking him. Learning how he likes to have his cock sucked and how he delights in having you act like the sexual creature you are and not hide your lust for him. “I need you inside me.” You whimper, reaching between you to cup his hardening cock beneath his robe. “Since there is no bedding ceremony, I want to dance with you dripping your seed.”

Oberyn hisses in delight at your words. So naughty and he knows he will want to lick it out of you later. Guiding you back towards the wall, he presses you against it and slides his hand under your gown, fingers quickly finding your clit. “Did getting married make you this wet, my sun? Did it turn you on becoming my wife?” He teases and kisses along your neck.

“Yes.” You pant, closing your eyes and moaning as he slides two fingers inside your wet cunt. “I am yours.” Those words were never more true than right now, reaching into his breeches and wrapping your fingers around to him slowly start pumping him just like he taught you. “Tonight- after other are asleep, I want to suck your cock while you are seated in the grand hall.” The wedding had been performed at Sunspear, the seat of power and Oberyn often acted in your father’s stead. You want to suck his cock while he sits on the Lord’s cushion and pleasure him.

“Naughty girl.” He teases and his cock twitches in your grip, “wanting to desecrate your father’s throne because you are so hungry for cock. I love it. I love you.” Oberyn growls, leaning closer to press his lips against yours. “Wanting to please your husband. It’s beautiful. I want to please you too but right now, I want to fuck you.” He withdraws his fingers, pulling your hand from his breeches and he pulls his cock out. Pressing you up against the wall even more, he gathers your gown and lifts your leg to notch on his hip. “Gonna make my bride cum.” He promises, pushing his cock into you with a low groan.”

Your head bumps back against the wall and you moan out his name. Your condition makes you eager and sensitive. “Oh fuck, Oberyn.” You whimper, looping your arms around his neck and grinding your pelvis down as he starts to move. “Fuck your wife,” you beg, loving how that sounds. “Please make me scream your name for all the guests to hear.”

The smirk on Oberyn’s face is wicked as he attempts to follow through on that challenge. “Yeah? My beautiful bride wants to cum so hard, she lets everyone out there know she’s no longer innocent? They will know tonight you’ve experienced a cock buried deep inside of you. They will know that I’ve spilled inside of you. Our babe shall be born early according to them but we will always know that my naughty wife wanted my cock before it was deemed appropriate.” He chuckles, kissing along your neck as his hips slam against yours.

You cry out, loving how wickedly he looks at things. It’s perfect, he’s perfect. Clinging to him while he drives into you over and over again. His mouth devours yours before he kisses along your throat and nips to make you gasp and clench around him. You know about the bastards he has, both girls. You can’t help but know about them since they live here. You love them as if they were your own. “Your next babe. Maybe a son.” You whimper when his cock pushes up against that sweet little spot inside you.

“My beautiful wife is going to provide me an heir? Fulfill her duty?” He hums. You know he hates the societal standards imposed but he is playful and you know he doesn’t care about a boy or a girl. He wants a healthy child. His fingers dig into your thigh, “a beautiful son. My beautiful wife gives me a son.” He muses with panting breaths. “I want my wife to cum. Squeal so loud they all know I am inside of you.”

It’s not hard to do, Oberyn is an amazing lover and you know you are lucky to have a man be concerned with your pleasure. “Obe-Oberyn!” You cry out as he cock continues to hammer against that spot over and over again until your toes are curling and you are squealing just like he ordered you to, your cum soaking his length and dripping down his thighs.

You squeezing his cunt has him groaning, kissing along your neck, and he thrusts a few more times before he buries his cock deep. Knowing you are his, his wife, the mother of his third child, has him cumming quickly. “Fuck.” He growls, painting your walls with his seed as he presses you further into the wall.

A few moments and lazy kisses later, Oberyn is pulling back, your leg lowering to the floor and your dress falling back into place. “Always so good.” You pant quietly, giving a small giggle of happiness as you catch sight of the beautiful gold ring he had put on your finger. The chain around your neck carries the symbol of the house Martell and declares you a princess. Which you had already been before, but now it is as a wife rather than an adoptive daughter.

****

“Push, princess!” The maester orders while your hand maids wipe your sweaty brow. The baby is coming, one more push and your baby is born. Yet Oberyn is nowhere to be found. No one has been able to alert him of the birth and the labors were quick despite this being your first. You scream as you bear down, feeling like you will pass out from the pressure and the pain but a cry fills the room and you chuckle in relief. The maester quickly inspects the babe. “You have a boy, princess.”

The women set about to help you deliver the afterbirth, the maester tying off the baby’s umbilical cord and cutting it before wrapping him in a soft cloth to hand him to you. “Is there any word of my husband?” You demand, looking down and immediately falling in love with his smooshed face and crown of dark hair.

“No, my princess.” The young servant who will look after the babe as a wet nurse if you wish it, shakes her head, looking down. “None knows where he is.”

You grunt, whimpering when the afterbirth passes and the women are still cleaning you as you start to move towards the edge of your birthing bed. “Dress me.” You demand, completely naked for the birth. “I will find him.”

“Princess. I- I wouldn’t recommend - you need to rest. Spend time with your baby.” Your hand maid tells you and you shake your head.

“I have performed my duty. I wish to show my prince.” You grunt defiantly and the handmaids reluctantly dress you, trying to clean off the blood as you stand on shaking legs.

“Princess. I do not recommend-” The maester tells you but you ignore him, sliding on your shoes as you shuffle down the hall.

It hurts, your stomach still cramping with the birth and every step feels like agony, your cunt swollen and sore from pushing out the Prince’s son. Blood runs down your legs but you ignore it. Your baby is in your arms and he squeaks and settles back down when you open your loose gown and offer him your breast. Having to stop in the middle of the hall to let him root around hungrily before he latches on. Your old rooms is your destination, having an idea that he might be there since you had been in the chamber you shared with your husband.

Oberyn groans as the man takes his cock into his mouth, the woman kissing along his chest and playfully nipping on his nipple. You’ve been distant lately, not wanting him due to your discomfort of carrying the baby inside of you and he has respected that, seeking his pleasure elsewhere. He’s been in this room for gods know how long, enjoying the man and woman he paid for. You are due any day so he is seeking his pleasures before he is a father for the third time. “Fuck.” Oberyn groans, head tilting back as the man takes him down his throat and the door is swung open.

Fury boils in your eyes when you see the man and woman naked in the bed with your husband. The man quickly pulls off Oberyn’s hard cock with a wet pop and the woman gasps at your appearance. Angry that he has not spoken to you about pleasure and needs, that he just decided to do this so selfishly, your heart breaks when you realize your husband missed the birth of his son, his heir, because of his cock.

You straighten your spine, bringing you to your full height and shoot all three of them a withering glare. “My su-“ You cut Oberyn off.

“You have a son, my Prince.” You manage with as much grace as you can possibly manage, sweat still rolling down your cheeks from where you left your birthing bed. “Congratulations.” With your announcement made, you turn to start shuffling back to the rooms you have been living in with your husband.

Oberyn’s eyes widen and he scrambles to get off of the bed, reaching for his robes to dress and the man and woman watch him in confusion. “Coins are on the side.” He points at the chest of drawers and rushes down the hall, catching up with you when you are still stumbling down the hallway. “You shouldn’t be walking. My sun, you should be resting in bed.” He tuts, looking down at the babe who is suckling at your breast.

“I should be resting in bed, but I had to track my husband down.” You hiss, furious with Oberyn and he reaches for you. You jerk your arm away from him, unwilling to let him touch you with the stink of sex on him. “The servants could not find you when my time had come but they should have just followed the smell of whores.”

“You- you said you were fine with my extramarital activities.” He huffs, walking alongside you.

“Yes but not when our son was being born.” You hiss and he shakes his head.

“No one came to find me. I would have been there, my love, you know I would have. I didn’t - I didn’t know.” He argues and you shake your head.

“No one could find you because you were in the whorehouses until you brought them back here. I know you know how to not be found. You should’ve checked in first.” You argue, hissing at the way your body aches.

“Please, forgive me. I - we have a son.” He coos, looking at the baby.

“I have a son.” You are angry, disappointed and for the first time since you have been married, tears slide down your cheeks. “Go back to your pleasure, Oberyn.” You tell him hollowly. “There is none to be found here.”

Oberyn stops walking, watching as you waddle back to your chambers, and his heart breaks. He knows you need to have time to process this and he will give it to you. He knows you need to be alone and despite his desire to see his son, he walks back to your old room, deciding to write to Doran and announce the birth of his son and heir.

****

“Daughter, you need to give yourself time-“

You shake your head, your baby sleeping in your arms as you look down at the sleeping child. It has been a week since you have given birth and you have not seen Oberyn once in that time. “I have decided.” You murmur quietly, unwilling to see the disapproval in your father’s eyes. “I wish to go be with Elia. I- I need time away.” You blink back tears and shake your head. “You were right, father. He has broken my heart and I - I need to leave. Please, please send me to my aunt.” She was technically your sister in law as well, but you are begging him as his daughter and not as Oberyn’s wife.

Doran sighs, hating to see the hurt in your eyes and he wishes he could take it away but you created this. He knew his brother would break you eventually, he’d warned you, and you paid him no mind. “Very well. Go. I shall arrange for your transport. Do you wish to bid your husband goodbye before you leave?” Doran asks, wanting you to remain here in Dorne and not allow you in the grasp of the Lannisters.

You shake your head, having already packed your trunks before you ever left Sunspear because you would have hired a ship yourself if your father had not approved. “There is no need.” You straighten your spine despite your heartbreak and try to give your father an unconcerned smile. “No doubt Oberyn has not missed my presence and will have no need for drawn out goodbyes.” You feel slightly guilty for not allowing Oberyn to be around your son, but he had chosen to spend time with others rather than you, and your son was too small to be apart from you.

****

Oberyn growls as he opens another door, unable to find you or his son. When an unsuspecting servant walks past, Oberyn grabs them. “Where the fuck are my wife and son?” He demands to know and the servant shakes at the fury in his eyes.

“They - they are gone, my prince.” He answers and Oberyn narrows his eyes.

“Where the fuck have they gone?” He demands to know.

“To - to King's Landing.” He answers and Oberyn slings him across the hall, making his way to Doran’s quarters.

“You let my wife and son go into that fucking lion’s den?” He growls as he enters, no announcement other than the door slamming against the wall.

Doran looks up from the book he has been reading and sighs as he closes it. “I allowed my daughter, the princess, to go and assist her aunt with her children.” He tells his brother flatly. “To let her heal from the heartbreak of your actions.” He frowns in disapproval, knowing that Oberyn had left you to give birth alone and he was not happy with his younger brother.

“Heartbreak? She hasn’t - she hasn’t allowed me to properly meet my son. She has locked me out because I did what she knew I did. It’s not fair, brother, and now you have let her run away and to be in that cesspool with the Lannisters. It’s bad enough that you let Elia go there. Now I have to worry about my wife and son. Fuck.” Oberyn slams his fist against the wall, furious at himself for allowing this to happen, at Doran for allowing this to happen.

“Your wife suffered her birthing pains alone while you were fucking!” Doran roars, the book in his hand aimed at his brother’s head as he launches it at him. “What if she had died? Alone and calling for you? By all the gods old and new, you should think of something other than your cock!” Doran shakes his head, angry that the bastard had ducked the book. “You will not follow her.” He orders the headstrong brother. “Elia will soothe her heart and send her back when she is ready to forgive the hurt you have done.”

Oberyn glares at Doran, knowing that the order will be enforced if he tries to leave plus he knows you need time. He will write you a letter and have it sent to King's Landing, hoping you will soften and return home sooner rather than later. He hates not having you here where he knows you are safe. He loves you, he truly does, and he knows he has needs, you know this, but he shouldn't have let them interfere with his duty to you. With a sigh, Oberyn nods and makes his way back to his quarters to write his letter.

****

Tears burn your eyes and your throat is thick with emotion, eyes skimming across the ornate scrawl that Oberyn produces when he puts quill to paper. “My sun, my heart is heavy without you in Dorne, the sun in the sky does not shy as brightly as it does with your presence by my side.” You close your eyes and shake your head slightly, not wishing to say something out of bitterness as Elia rocks your son in her arms, listening as you read your husband’s letter aloud. “I was foolish, irresponsibly so and I regret that it caused you the pain and heartache you suffer. I wish to make amends. To have your smile brighten the halls of Sunspear and your laughter to ring out through the Water Gardens again.” You sigh, and lift the paper back up with a trembling hand. “Come home, my Princess. You told me that you wished to be in Dorne and she misses you. I miss you, my love.” You look over at Elia in exasperation. “Am I wrong? Should I have stayed?” You ask, knowing that she and Oberyn had been the closest out of all of them and needing her guidance. She has been a Godsend since your arrival in King’s Landing, even with the current turmoil that echoes in the palace halls.

Elia sighs, looking down at your son who has the same features as his father. “You did what you thought was right for you at the time. If I am honest, I think you should return home. You are needed there and I am certain you wish for this one to be raised in Dorne and not this…this hell.” Elia has confided that she loathes the Red Keep. It’s like a prison and she longs for the warmth of the Dornish sun. “You need to go home, my darling, but selfishly? I wish for you to stay. I barely speak to anyone here. My husband is away…the king loses more of himself every day and I long to keep our children safe…even from him. I wish you could stay but my brother needs you.” Elia smiles sadly.

“Come with me.” You reach out and take her hand, squeezing gently. “Dorne will love to have their princess back for a visit. It will do you good to visit with your brothers.”

Elia shakes her head, “I have a duty to the people as their future queen. I cannot abandon them now. My darling, stay until the end of the week and then I shall arrange travel home for you. Besides, I still have to spoil my nephew rotten.” Elia grins, cooing down at the baby in her arms. “Write to Oberyn. Tell him you shall return home soon and give him hope. Absence makes the heart grow fonder so I am certain I shall have another nephew or niece to dote on by the time I visit Dorne once more.”

****

Screams awaken you in the middle of the night, jolting you from your sleep as you immediately reach for your son in his cradle. The sounds of clashing steel and fighting can be heard in the Bailey below your window and you panicked, throwing on your robe and bundling your son against your chest as you rush out the doors of your chamber to seek Elia. The news of the Baretheon rebellion has grown steadily dire and your ship is set to sail when the sun rises.

Servants scramble in the halls, pushing past you in their haste to flee the danger. Dread pools in your belly, hearing the screams grow louder as you race towards the chambers. They are here, the rebellion has reached the keep and they are coming for all who are in line for the iron throne.

Elia screams, her children clinging to her robes when you come into her chambers. “It’s only me. What’s happening?” You ask, terrified and the baby begins to cry in your arms. “Shhhh.” You coo, rocking him.

“It’s the rebellion. They have breached the Red Keep. My - my - the King will be killed. I have to protect the children. Get into the armoire. With the children.” She orders you and her children.

“Mama!” Her daughter cries but Elia cups her cheeks once you are all inside of the closet.

“It will be alright, my love. Let’s be quiet. We need to be quiet.” She tells her children, looking over at you now that you have gotten your son to settle against your breast. Your heart pounds and you pray to the gods that you will be spared, that Elia and her children will be spared.

You know the chances of Elia and the children being spared if they kill the king are low, that you need to flee in the chaos. “Elia, we need to run. We can make it to the ship. Have them sail now.” You plead with her, knowing it will kill Oberyn and your father if something happens to their beloved sister or her children. “There is a passage.” You know of the secret tunnels. “Let us leave now!”

“I cannot. They will find us in the halls. We are safer here. My darlings, it will be okay. Just let me - let me step out if anyone should come. I may be able to reason with-” The doors are slammed open to her chambers and you squeal, shaking as you wonder who has come in. Foe or friend. The armoire doors are swung open after several moments and you shriek when a mountain of a man grabs Elia by her arm, dragging her out of the wardrobe.

“Leave her alone!” You shout as you scramble out of the wardrobe and stand in front of Elia’s kids where they are huddled in the corner, clutching your son to your chest. “She is the crowned princess!” You are terrified, certain that all of you are going to die right here in these rooms. “Leave now!” You shout. “GUARDS!”

The Mountain shuts the doors and chuckles darkly, withdrawing his sword and you back your aunt and the children towards the window. “Get the fuck out of my way.” He growls, grabbing your arm and throwing you across the room. You grunt, curling your arms around your son, scared that he’s hurt and during that moment to assure yourself that your son is okay, the Mountain grabs Elia. You place your son in the armoire, safe as you rush back towards Elia, trying to protect her but the Mountain flings you across the room once more. “Please! Spare her! They haven’t done anything!” You plead and Elia screams for the guards once more.

You turn from your crumpled position on the ground to watch as Rhaenys, precious little Rhaenys, rushes towards the giant in armor, screaming and beating on his side. Too young to cause any harm to the man, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the little girl and lifting the toddler up high before flinging her against the wall. Making Elia scream and clutch Aegon to her chest. “No!” You scream, crawling towards the crumpled body of your niece, unmoving on the stone floor with her neck twisted at an off angle.

Elia cries out in anguish when you try to get Rhaenys to wake up but she’s gone, eyes open and glassy. The young boy - the future king - is clinging to Elia but the mountain grabs him, lifting him up by the neck and with a squeeze of his giant hand, he breaks the boy’s neck, making Elia scream in agony when the man flings the boy down beside his sister. You are shrieking, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look at the children and that’s when horror truly makes your blood run cold.

The Mountain grabs Elia and what happens next makes you vomit. He violates her, raping her while he chokes her, strangling her until she is still and you are frozen. When he is done, he grabs his sword and you retch in horror when he slices her open, her glassy eyes turned towards you. You are shaking, certain that you are next when the mountain wipes his sword on the bed sheets. “I- please. Please.” You choke, begging for your own life and the Mountain walks right past you.

“Return to Dorne, tell those fuckers what happened here. The Lannisters send their regards.”

The Red Keep has descended into complete chaos, screaming and steel clanging all around you. You bundle your son to your chest, hurrying as fast as you can. Bare feet slipping on the bloodied steps of the palace until you finally manage to escape from one of the side doors. Rushing towards the waterfront, towards the boat Elia had arranged for you to return to your husband. Your hands are bloody, the necklace she has been wearing in your hand and you are blinded by the tears as you sob in relief, seeing the swaying masts of the ship that will bear you back to Dorne.

****

The horse’s hooves attract the attention of the palace, the servants immediately approaching the messenger who swings off of his horse and rushes into the palace. When the doors open, Doran and Oberyn look up, both of them in the middle of discussing the harvest festival celebrations when the messenger approaches and hands the letter to Doran.

Oberyn impatiently awaits his brother’s rendition of the letter but the prince pales. “Doran? What is it?” Oberyn frowns and Doran hands him the letter with a shaky hand. Oberyn frowns, taking the letter and his body goes cold when he reads the news that his sister, niece and nephew have been murdered by order of the Lannisters. Robert Baratheon is now king. “She - she’s - oh gods.” Oberyn wants to be sick and his blood boils at the murder of his family. “What about my wife? And my son? Did - there’s no news of them. Is she - is he -? Doran.” He stumbles as he stands up, “I need - I need to go to King's Landing. I need to find them.”

Doran feels sick, his heart breaking at the loss of his sister and her two babies. He knows their deaths had to have been cruel. Otherwise, why would they have put a two year old and one year old to death? “No.”

Oberyn’s head snaps towards Doran and he grits his teeth furiously. “No?” He hisses. “My sister - her children are dead! My wife and son are there.”

Doran shakes his head, knowing that if his brother goes to King’s Landing, he will start another war. “We will wait until there is more news.” He tells his brother. “We will have our maester send a raven to the citadel.”

“I cannot. I will not fucking sit here while my sun…she’s your daughter. Are you not worried? I cannot - I cannot just fucking sit here. If the Lannisters wish for war, I shall single handedly bring it to them. They will pay!” Oberyn roars, anger masking his pain.

“Now is the time for cooler heads.” Oberyn’s temperament has always been one to rush into battle when he is feeling provoked but now is not the time. “We must not make a mistake. For Dorne. I love my daughter and wish she were here safe and sound, but she is not.” He does not mention that it is because of Oberyn that you are not where you belong. “Elia’s body along with the children are being shipped back to Dorne.” He swallows thickly. “Now is the time we mourn.”

“You don’t want revenge? They killed Elia. Her children. We should be sending the fucking Dornish army to their door now. The Lannisters have concocted this scheme. We must retaliate. Now. Brother, please. Do not let them get away with it.” Oberyn pleads, needing the anger to distract him from the pain of not knowing your status.

“We would be sending our army to their deaths without proof.” Doran rationalizes. “I am angry. I am sad.” He swallows harshly and shakes his head. “Still, it is my duty to do what is best for Dorne, not just the Martells.”

“Fuck your duty. Fuck Dorne. This is our family and you, as usual, don’t do anything to avenge us. Doran, you - you disappoint me once again. I shall have my own revenge.” Oberyn promises and growls as he makes his way through the halls, staff avoiding him as he shoves open the doors to your chambers, burying his face in your pillow as he allows himself to cry, to mourn, and to pray that you and his son are safe.

****

“My Princess, we will be docking at Sunspear within the hour.” The nervous deck hand waits for you to turn your head, to give some clue that you have heard him, but you just stare at the city as it grows closer every second that ticks by.

It has been a long week. One that you can recall every second of and none at all. A shadow of yourself as you cling to your son and try to banish the images of Elia and her children’s deaths from your mind. Still wearing your nightgown that you had been wearing when you fled the Red Keep, no women’s clothes on board and what little clothing they could spare was used for your son’s nappies.

The spires of the palace loom in the distance and you wonder if Oberyn will blame you for not saving Elia, or maybe he will blame you for not dying with her.

When the horn sounds that the boat is docking with Elia and the children’s remains, Oberyn makes his way to the dock, wanting to see the caskets and he has been pulling his hair out for a week, trying to find word of your status. Whether you were alive or dead. He has to know. When he sees you stumble down the ramp of the boat, his eyes widen. “My sun!” He shouts, running towards you and he wraps you in his arms, the baby between you as he holds you close.

“Oberyn.” You gasp when you feel his arms around you, wanting to close your eyes and melt into his safe embrace but you cannot. “She’s dead, Oberyn. Elia- the kids, they are dead!” You sob, breaking down for the first time since that horrible night. “I- I could not stop him!”

“It’s okay, my love. It’s okay. You’re safe. You are both safe.” He feels relieved despite the fact that his sister is dead. He has you. He hasn’t lost you. “You’re alive.” He chokes, tears stinging in his eyes and he pulls back so he can cup your cheeks, looking into your eyes. “It’s okay. You couldn’t - there’s nothing you could do. It’s okay. You’re home.”

“I was- the baby- he lifted her and threw her against the wall-“ you babble in a near panic. “She- oh gods Oberyn, her neck- she was gone and then the sweet little one- he-“ your voice cracks. “They were gone and then he raped her! He raped her on the bodies of her children!” You shriek. “I couldn’t stop him! I couldn’t- he- he raped her and then he killed her like she was nothing!”

“Ssshhh.” Oberyn coos, bringing you into his chest, “it’s not your fault. You couldn’t do anything, my love. Let’s calm down and let me take you inside the palace. You need to be in your home.” He murmurs, kissing your hair and he leans back to look down at the baby. “Gods. He has grown.” Oberyn leans down to kiss his son’s head. Fury beats in his chest, but that will not help you heal right now, looking like you are about to expire on your feet.

You don’t understand why he is not upset, why he is not furious with you. Your sobs give way to hiccups and you let Oberyn lead you away from the ship, the caskets containing the bodies of your family slowly being raised up from the hold to be transported to the castle. You step onto the hot sands of Dorne with your bare feet and you sigh softly, happy to feel it after what has happened.

Oberyn rubs your back as he guides you back into the palace, everyone looking at you since you are still wearing your nightdress. “Obbaron is safe. You are safe, my sun. The gods have answered my prayers.” Oberyn is relieved and he is sad but selfish, happy you are safe and home…finally.

In the palace, you are stripped out of your filthy and ragged nightgown and placed in a large, lovely bath. You refuse to let your son out of your sight, making the servant tut and disappear to tell on you to Oberyn. You can’t let him go right now.

Oberyn heard of your insistence that Obbaron be in your arms in the bath and he makes his way to your chambers after he asked for some food to be sent to you. “My sun, let me take him while you bathe.” Oberyn says as he walks in, eager to see the son he barely got a chance to hold before you left for Kings Landing.

You hesitate, almost refusing but you know that Obbaron will be safe in his father’s arms. The servants have all disappeared, leaving the bathing room and you nod after a moment, letting Oberyn come and take your son from your arms. “Be careful.” You choke out before you can stop yourself, even though you know it is foolish. Watching the children being struck down in front of you has affected you, making you tear up again as you step into the large pool of water. Your husband has seen you naked before, even if he did not wish to see you that way anymore - you would not hide yourself.

Oberyn watches you get into the bath and he can’t believe how beautiful you are. Even when wrecked with grief, you are still the most gorgeous woman he has even seen. He rocks the baby, looking down at his beautiful son and he leans down to kiss his forehead, thanking the gods that you are both okay.

You groan as you sink into the water, relieved to be able to clean yourself again after a week on ship. It’s selfish, wanting something like this when your poor aunt will never take another breath. Making you close your eyes so you don’t cry again before you pick up the cake of perfumed soap to start scrubbing every inch of your body, needing to feel clean again.

“I’ve missed you.” Oberyn confesses, knowing that now he needs to be completely honest. Life is too short. He needs you. “I love you. So much. I’ve missed you every single day since you’ve been gone.” He admits, “and our beautiful son.” He looks down at Obbaron.

You snort softly, not disbelieving him completely but finding it hard to believe that he had spent the last months pining for you. “I am sure you found comfort somewhere.” You murmur softly, relaxing into the bath. “I cannot believe for a moment that my husband was celibate while I was gone.”

Oberyn snorts, “alas my cock could not get hard for anyone other than you during your absence. Perhaps your departure forced me to reconsider what is important to me and I know now that I cannot live without you. You are - you are my world and I refuse to live in a world where you do not exist. I was - if you were dead…” He trails off, unable to put the thoughts into words. “I love you. It’s always been you and I need you. More than even I thought possible.”

“You fucking other people did not upset me.” You tell him, your voice level and sure. You have had a lot of time to think about why you were so furious and heartbroken when you discovered Oberyn in your old chambers with others. “If I had not been carrying Obbaron I might have joined in.”

Oberyn frowns, knowing you had discussed sharing your bed prior to your marriage, deciding to wait until after you had given birth. “You were upset that I chose to fuck over being by your side.” He states and you nod, knowing it seems foolish now. Most men do not come to their wife’s bedside during birth. “I do not wish to share a bed unless you are involved.” He tells you, knowing he made that decision as soon as the guilt hit him. He wants to be fully invested in this marriage and your pleasure is his pleasure.

You eye him in surprise, shocked that he would say that, but Oberyn seems sincere. Your heart melts slightly and you give a small nod. “I have missed you.” You confess. “Elia had- I was due to sail for Dorne just that next morning. To return to you.” It seems important that he knows you didn’t come home just because of the rebellion and his sister’s murder. You blink back tears and swallow heavily. “I wish I had been able to return like that. Simply because I wished to.”

Oberyn's heart aches, wishing that had been the case but it's not and his entire body yearns for vengeance. "Me too." He whispers, looking down at his son once more who has fallen asleep against his chest, exposed by the gapping in his robes. "My sun...I - I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. My worry that you - I didn't know if you were alive or dead. It was destroying me to not know and yet I lived in fear of knowing in case you -" He chokes, unable to speak the words.

You shuffle to the edge, reaching for Oberyn and stroking his arm as he holds your son. “We are here, safe with you, where we belong.” Your eyes slide down to your sleeping son and you give a soft smile. “He is comfortable with you already, he knows his father.”

Oberyn smiles sadly, “you both should’ve been here the entire time. Not just - not just now. He should know his father. I don’t blame you for leaving, my sun, but I want you to know I missed you every single day you were gone. I love you. And him. I don’t wish to lose you again.”

It’s what you want to hear, all you wanted although you don’t wish to hold Oberyn in a cage. “I love you, my prince. I am willing to share you, as long as no one else comes before me.”

"For now, I wish to have my wife. Tonight, I want you. To worship you and show you how much I love you. Tomorrow, we mourn my sister and her children. In time, I will have my revenge but tonight, I want to make love to my wife." He declares, his dark eyes focused on you.

Guilt settling over you, you look away, knowing you need to be honest with your husband. You couldn’t have known that he had decided to be celibate since you had boarded a ship for King’s Landing. “I must confess something to you.” You whisper. “I have had several in my bed while I was at the Red Keep. All women.” You assure him. “I did not want to risk carrying another man’s child while I am married to you, but I found pleasure in others.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches as he thinks of you in bed with other women. He can’t blame you for it. You are doing what he did but you had left, decided to leave him and go to Elia. He cannot be angry with you. “My sun, I do not blame you for seeking pleasure. I wouldn’t have minded watching.” He chuckles before his smile falls, his eyes meeting yours. “Would you have come home? If Elia…would you have come home?”

“I was already coming home to you.” You give him a bittersweet smile. “Elia told me that selfishly she wished me to stay but that her brother needed me more than she did. Her last days were- they were as peaceful as they could be.” You assure him. “We talked of Dorne and she was making plans to come home for a visit.” You bite your lip. “I wish I had convinced her to come with me. To just leave a few days earlier.”

Oberyn swallows harshly, “it wasn’t your fault my love. It was - the Lannisters. They will pay. I vow they will pay. Elia…gods bless her soul…she was stubborn like all Martell’s so I doubt you could’ve done anything to make her leave. Do not blame yourself.”

You relax, happy that Oberyn does not blame you. You look at the babe in his arms and you wish that things are different but they are not. The only thing you can do is move forward. “Lay the baby in the cradle.” You urge him, suddenly in need of your husband. “Join me in the bath. I need to feel you.”

Oberyn nods, shifting to stand up now the baby is asleep and he gently places him in the cradle across the room before he works on removing his robes and breeches. Once he is naked, he strides over to the bathtub and you shift forward to allow him to get in behind you. As soon as he is in, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you back into his chest, groaning at the feel of you in his arms. Finally.

You moan softly, leaning back against his chest and closing your eyes. It’s the first time in over a week that you truly feel safe. Relaxing against him and letting the silence fall between you. There is much more that needs to be said, but right now you just want your husband to hold you. “I love you.” You whisper softly, knowing that it would always be that way. It would always be Oberyn.

Oberyn caresses your arms, kissing your neck and he sighs, “I love you too,” into your skin. He breathes you in, relieved to have you in his arms again and he caresses every inch he can touch, just wanting to feel you and reassure himself that you are here.

You feel his hands start to roam over your body. Caressing and squeezing you, reassuring himself that you are in his arms. Turning your head, your lips graze his jaw, pressing kisses to his thin line of a beard that frames his face. “I want you.” You murmur softly, already feeling the first pangs of arousal.

“Are you sure?” He murmurs, not wanting to push you if you aren’t ready. You’ve experienced horrors that men at war see and he doesn’t want to push you. He has lost so much, he can’t lose you too. He needs you to fucking breathe. “My sun, tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel alive.” You whimper, grabbing his hands and bringing them up to your still nursing breasts. He doesn’t squeeze harshly, but you moan when his thumbs brush over your hard nipples. “I want to banish the images in my mind and replace them with my husband fucking me.”

Oberyn understands what you mean. Some of his whoring ways are the result of the horrific memories of the battlefield. Nights spent with lovers distract from the things he had seen. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He orders but kisses along your neck, his fingers plucking your nipples and your responsive moan has his cock twitching against your back.

“Yessss.” You moan and tilt your head back so that you are leaning against his shoulder. “Touch me Oberyn.” You beg, eyes slipping closed as you let him play your body like an instrument.

Oberyn caresses your chest, his lips tracing your neck and shoulders until his hands dip lower. Caressing your stomach that carried his child and he secretly wishes to see you round again, do it properly this time. His fingers dip lower, playing with the curls above your cunt until he finally, finally, presses his finger to your clit.

Gasping, your legs thrash in the water as Oberyn starts to rub your clit. Pressing firmly and stroking you just like you need as you groan in his arms. This is what you need, to be surrounded by him, his scent in your nose as you kiss his pulse. Mindless to everything but the way he is making you feel. “Yes, Oberyn, yess.” You pant softly.

He groans, kissing along your neck as his cock hardens against your back, his fingers rubbing your clit and he wants you to cum just like this. “I love you. My sun. My wife. My love.” He coos, “cum for me.” He murmurs, breathing you in after being apart for so long.

It doesn’t take long, just a few more minutes of his magical fingers against your clit and you are crying out. Shuddering against him while he pushes you through pleasure until your chest is heaving and you are breathless. “Inside me.” You push his hand away and turn over, wanting to ride your husband in the bath. “Need you inside me.”

His hands immediately grip your hips, dragging you close so you are hovering over him and his lips immediately around your nipple, biting and sucking while he reaches down to position himself at your entrance. “Ride my cock. I want you to make yourself cum.” He orders, cupping your cheek while he kisses up your chest.

The only thing he is wearing is his chain with the family crest. Wrapping it up on your fist, you sink down onto his cock with a moan. All the fingers in the world will never feel as good as his cock. “Fuck, Oberyn.”

He watches you, dark eyes getting even darker as he watches you sink down onto his cock, your silk walls gripping him like no one else can. You’re gorgeous and his wife. “Fuck, my love. You always feel so good. Such a tight little cunt.” He coos, gripping your chin to make you look at him.

He is the only man you have let in your body and he knows it better than anyone. His cock spearing up into your deliciously and you clench around him at the lust in his eyes. “Your cunt.” You promise, grinding down onto him and swiveling your hips to make you moan. “Fill me up Oberyn.” You plead softly, looking into his dark eyes that are reflective in the child you made together. “I want to feel you for days.”

He growls, suddenly feeling desperate after he could’ve lost you from his own stupidity. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against him, his cock thrusting up into you to make the water spill off the sides of the tub. “Should have never let you go. Should’ve worshiped you so you didn’t leave.” He murmurs against your mouth.

Whimpering, you turn into his kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth and your hand curls around the back of his neck. Moaning every time he thrusts up into you, it becomes a symphony of mewls and panted breaths as he rocks his hips up frantically.

Your breath mingles with his and his hands are everywhere, sliding down to squeeze your ass, pulling you into him to help you rock on his cock as he thrusts up into you. “Gods, I love you.” He groans, his lips attached to your neck and he sucks to leave a bruise beneath the skin.

“I love you.” You pant, closing your eyes and tangling your fingers into his hair as you rock up and down on his length. Rolling your hips faster as need builds and you know that you’re going to cum soon. “Please- oh fuck, I’m so close.”

Oberyn immediately presses his fingers to your clit, rubbing it harshly while he leans closer to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me, my sun.” He orders against your mouth, his cock twitching inside of you as his own orgasm nears.

It’s so good, blinding pleasure crashes over you as you buck in his arms. Gasping and crying out when your walls clamp down around him as you soak his already wet cock with a torrent of your juices, barely able to rock on him as your thighs shake.

Oberyn’s fingers dig deep into your ass, working you on his cock while he seeks his own climax. Your walls flutter around his cock, gripping him, and he hisses when you lean forward to bite down on his jaw. “Cum.” You plead and it sends him over the edge. His cock buried deep as he thrusts up into you, painting your walls with his hot seed.

You whine at the heat flooding your womb, leaning in and kissing him gently. “I love you so much.” You promise, pressing your lips to his between words. “My prince, my husband.”

“My princess. My world.” He vows, pulling you close and you giggle at the water that splashed onto the floor. “Leave it. It will be dried.” He tells you and kisses your nose then your forehead. “I - I shall thank the gods you have returned to me.”

****

“You are lovely.” You look in the mirror at the beautiful woman that had been assigned to be your handmaid while you are going through your second pregnancy. “What is your name?” Her fingers are still where they are braiding your hair and her dark, kohl lined eyes look up to meet yours. You know her name, but you wish to talk candidly and to ask questions is the obvious choice to begin. To show interest.

“Ellaria, my princess.” The woman smiles, her expression is soft and you instantly feel attracted to her.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” You coo and Ellaria flusters. You take her hand and bring it to your lips, kissing her palm and she inhales sharply.

“Not as beautiful as you, my princess.” She responds breathlessly.

She is perfect for your bed. You haven’t missed the way that Oberyn’s gaze followed her when she was introduced and you find her most attractive. “Tell me Ellaria,” you turn and look her in the eyes. “How would you feel about joining Oberyn and I in our chambers tonight?” You ask, smirking slightly at the idea of surprising your husband.

Ellaria’s eyes widen but she smirks, after a moment. “I would be honored to join you and the prince, my princess.” She answers, her fingers caressing your neck and shoulders and you shiver in delight. She finishes your hairstyle and leans down to kiss your cheek. “I shall count the moments until I can be in your bed.” She murmurs and you turn your head to press your lips to hers, wanting to kiss her before tonight. You are impatient.

Her lips are soft, sweet as you reach up and cup her cheek. Deepening the kiss and sliding your tongue into Ellaria’s mouth, you push up to your feet so you can stand with her and hold onto her hips as she starts to kiss you back.

Ellaria caresses your back, her tongue sliding against yours when the doors open and Oberyn strides in. His eyebrows raise and he chuckles. “Looks like my princess is being well looked after.” He grins and slides up behind you, kissing your neck. “Have you asked her, my sun?” He murmurs in your ear, his hands gripping your waist.

You pout slightly that your plans have been ruined but you turn and press your lips to his when you break the kiss from Ellaria. “I had hoped to surprise you.” You huff slightly, nodding and turning back to the servant with a smile. “As you can tell, both the prince and I are eager for you to join us.”

Ellaria flusters, a smile on her face as she leans back to look at you and your husband. “Please let me pleasure you both. I want to please my prince and princess.”

Oberyn smirks, reaching out to cup her cheek, “let us pleasure the princess. She is carrying my child and I am certain that your tongue on her clit would help her relax.”

You moan at the idea and nod, biting your lip. “Why don’t you show Ellaria how wonderful your cock is while she devours my cunt?” You suggest. “I know you have not been able to fuck me as hard as you wish and I think our girl will enjoy screaming your name.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought. You’ve already discussed him fucking others and you have given your permission for him to cum inside the ones you like. Ellaria was included in that consent. “Strip my beautiful wife out of her robes before you follow suit and show me how beautiful the female form can be. I want to worship at the altar of two gorgeous cunts.” Oberyn coos as he begins to strip off his own clothes.

You give a small, excited giggle as Ellaria moans quietly and you let her guide you toward the large round bed. “He’s got a wonderful cock and his fingers are magical.” You promise her while she pulls at the thin ties of your robes to pull them off your rounded body.

Her hands are deft, quickly undressing you and her hands caress your bump for a moment before she begins to remove her own clothes. When she’s naked, you turn back towards your husband. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? A true Dornish gem.” You coo, reaching out to cup her breast and Oberyn loves seeing you so free. “She’s perfect for us. Ellaria, lay my princess down and suck on her sore tits while I push my fingers inside of your cunt.”

It takes you a moment to get comfortable but soon you are on your back and Ellaria’s lips are pressed to your skin, kissing up your side before she wraps her lips around your nipple. “Oh!” Your back arches and you cry out in pleasure, your breasts so sensitive since your pregnancy. “Fuck, Oberyn, make her feel-feel good.” You order your husband as he kneels on the bed behind her.

Oberyn groans at the sight of Ellaria bent over as she sucks on your tits and that makes him eager to lean down and slide his tongue through her folds, making her moan out in delight around your breast. You caress her side, eyes closed as you enjoy her hot mouth and you can hear your husband’s tongue diving into her cunt.

The sounds of pleasure fill your chambers, licking and sucking accompanying muffled moans. Your fingers stroke Ellaria’s cheek and through her hair while she sucks in your breasts. “How does she taste?” You ask Oberyn, knowing that she must be delicious, kissing her had been wonderful. “My sun, she is tangy and sweet like your favorite Dornish wine.” Oberyn praises as he lifts his head to wink at you over her shoulder. “When you taste her, you will hate to pull away.”

You grin, “I can’t wait. My handmaid shall be spoiled by us. Her cunt will never be without pleasure.” You promise and Ellaria moans, kissing down your stomach, over your bump until she is between your thighs. Oberyn shifts to accommodate her and he kneels behind Ellaria, knowing she’s wet enough to take him so when her tongue slides through your folds, he pushes into her with a deep groan.

Her moan makes your entire core clench. Vibrating through you wonderfully and your fingers tangle in her hair, your eyes watching your husband’s face as she obviously clenches around him. He looks gorgeously wrecked and you don’t feel jealous, instead you are eager for him to rock into her. Ellaria’s tongue slides through your folds and flicks against your clit.

“How does her tongue feel, my love?” Oberyn asks, his hands gripping Ellaria’s waist as he rocks into her a little harder, sending her tongue deeper into your cunt. “Incredible.” You sigh, shifting to look down at Ellaria as her face is buried in your cunt and you look up to meet the eyes of your husband. “Fuck, you look gorgeous, my sun.”

The three of you work closer to orgasm together. Moaning when Oberyn thrusts into your handmaid and pushes her tongue deeper inside your cunt. You rock your hips up to meet her eager tongue and your hands cup your breasts, toying with your nipples.

Oberyn wants you to cum and Ellaria to cum before he does. Reaching over your handmaid, he presses his thumb to your clit while Ellaria’s tongue dives deep. “Cum for us, my sun.” He orders, his dark eyes meeting yours.

Your eyes slip closed and you cry out, your thighs pressing against Ellaria’s head while you come apart. Heedless to everything but your pleasure as she licks into you.

Ellaria works you through it, her head knocking against Oberyn’s hand until his thumb finds her clit, rubbing it to push her over the edge when his cock twitches inside of her, his orgasm nearing. “Cum for us, sweetness.” He coos, bending over to kiss her shoulder.

You can tell the second she starts to cum. Oberyn gently bites her shoulder and her entire body stiffens. Crying out loudly, it’s the sweetest sound you have heard mixed with Oberyn’s groan. He rocks into her faster, his hips slamming against her ass he fucks her through her high and chases his own. “Cum baby.” You order Oberyn. “Fill her up. I want to see your seed drip from her gorgeous cunt.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, sweat beading on his brow as he rocks into Ellaria, her cunt dripping from her orgasm and it only takes a few thrusts before he is cumming, painting her walls with his seed. “Fuck.” He pants, eyes closed until he forces himself to look at you, see your expression as his cock pulses inside of your handmaid.

You smirk as you watch the two of them. Reaching out and caressing her cheek where her chin is resting on your hip. “Beautiful.” You coo softly, watching Oberyn as he watches you. “How was your first experience with the Prince?” You ask her curiously.

“Exquisite, my princess.” Ellaria declares breathlessly.

“Good. I would like you to share our bed. I will require pleasure in the lead up to birth and my husband shall require a beautiful cunt to lose himself in. Would you be interested in being that woman?” Oberyn smirks at your question, pleased to see how you own your pleasure now without embarrassment or hesitancy.

Ellaria’s eyes widen and she twists, looking back and forth between you and Oberyn, who just pulled out of her cunt and moves to settle down beside you and strokes your stomach. He arches an eyebrow at her with a smirk and she flusters. She had been days away from seeking out the brothels to work before she had been brought to the palace to be your handmaid. Now she was being presented with something beyond her wildest dreams. “I do not know what to say.” She admits quietly and you don’t want to push her, but you want her to say yes. “It is thrilling to know that you would want me that way, but if you should grow bored?” She doesn’t want to be on the streets again, worrying about what food will fill her belly.

“If that day ever comes, you would still have a place in our household.” You look over at Oberyn who nods seriously.

Ellaria bites her lip, looking at you and the prince, and it’s easy to make her decision. “Very well. I would be honored to be in your bed every night. Whatever you wish of me, it is yours.” Ellaria promises and you shake your head.

“Only what you wish, too. We will not force you to do something you do not wish to do. We are all about pleasure, aren’t we my love?” You coo at Oberyn, caressing his chest and he nods.

“Very much so. I only want pleasure. No pain.” He murmurs, his eyes meeting yours and he swears he falls for you again, unable to believe this strong woman is his wife. It’s incredible to watch after knowing you as a shy young woman.

You smile at Oberyn, unable to resist kissing him again before you reach for Ellaria. “Only pleasure. And you will be treated with respect.” You promise her, unwilling to tolerate anything else. “The prince will simply have a princess and a paramour who he can have together without there being any harsh words.”

Ellaria nods, grinning as she cannot believe how lucky she is to be able to share a bed with the prince and princess. Her birth into poverty has not held her back and she is determined to ensure she remains by your side for a long time, pleasuring you and serving you as your handmaid. “Let us wash up and we shall get some food. I want some berries then I want to fuck my wife while she makes her beautiful handmaid cum with her tongue.” Oberyn smirks, eager to fuck again.

****

“You look exquisite, my love.” You coo, reaching up and caressing Ellaria’s cheek before you adjust one of her braids. “Perfectly matched and stunning.” The deep plunging V of her dress is shocking for the women of the North, but it matches the low neckline and high slits in the skirts of your own dress. Both of you dressed to accompany Oberyn to the wedding of Joffrey.

“You are anxious, my love.” Ellaria coos, walking over to Oberyn whose back is tense as he looks out of the window to the streets of Flea Bottom. “I hate being here. With those bastards that killed my darling sister. I yearn for blood.” He growls, tensing when Ellaria’s hand touches his back.

You had refused to stay in the Red Keep, not wanting to return to the very rooms that Elia had been killed in before your eyes. Despite the years that have passed, you feel as strongly as Oberyn. You join the two of them and lean over to kiss your husband's cheek on the other side of him so that both of you flank him. “They will pay. The Lannisters may have dealt us a blow, but we will make sure their house is ground to dust and forgotten.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, nodding in response and he hisses when he imagines getting his revenge finally. It’s been years since Elia was killed but he’s desperate for vengeance. “The Lannisters…I will kill every last one of them.” He vows and turns his head to press his lips to yours. He grabs Ellaria, dragging her closer so she can press her lips to yours too, the three of you entangled.

You moan into the kiss, your hand on your lover’s hip. Both of you will need to keep Oberyn calm and keep him from acting rashly. He was hot headed sometimes but with both of you by his side, he can be reasoned with. Together, all three of you will raze the house of golden lions to the ground.

****

The wedding was boring like all royal weddings, lengthy and tedious but when you attend the reception, Oberyn is eager to sip the wine and feast on the berries Ellaria is feeding him. You can feel eyes on you, so many are unused to seeing a prince and princess with a paramour in King's Landing where lovers remain banished to the shadows. “Lover, shall we take a stroll?” You ask Ellaria, wanting Oberyn to have a moment with the young knight who is eying him from across the way. Perhaps tonight, another shall join you in your chambers.

Smirking, you nod and lean over to press your lips to Oberyn’s lips before you stand. Moving over beside Ellaria, you link your arm through hers happily and pick up your goblet to carry with you. You had specially asked for watered down wine discreetly, not wanting Oberyn to worry about your secret for now. “Let us go make scandalous conversation with the noble ladies here.” You tease with a joyous smirk. They would not dare insult you to your face as the princess of Dorne.

Ellaria grins, happy to be beside you and support you during this time of torment, the dreaded capital, and the Lannisters. “I didn’t know the Dornish were so accommodating to their whores.” Cersei approaches and you stiffen your back, staring at the queen.

“I didn’t know the Lannisters were so accommodating to murderers.” You counter, glancing over at the Mountain who is striding past, watching over the king.

“My princess. Come, let us walk. You do not need the stress.” Ellaria says, caressing your arm and you glare at the queen before Oberyn joins you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his own jaw clenched. “Cersei. The queen mother as you are now.” He quips, narrowing his eyes when Tywin approaches behind his daughter.

Cersei’s eyes narrow back at Oberyn before she plasters a fake smile on her face. “Tell me,” she hums, turning towards you, “how do you stand the whispers as you walk around merrily with your husband’s whore. She’s birthed four? It’s it four? Bastards?”

Oberyn narrows his eyes before he chuckles, looking up at Tywin. “I suppose four bastards are better than keeping it in the family, isn’t that right, Lord Tywin?” He quips, making Cersei’s smile drop.

Tywin is cool as he responds, “you should know all about that, marrying your niece after all.” Oberyn’s hand twitches with the urge to stab the older man but your grip on his other arm has him pausing.

You give Tywin a smile that tinges on acidic. “While I might have been the Prince’s niece by marriage, at least we can be sure that there is no common blood.” You tsk and shake your head before you glance at his daughter. “It is a wonder that the King and all the Baratheon children inherited the golden locks of the Lannisters. Almost as if dear Robert’s seed was impotent.”

Cersei hisses through her teeth and the urge to slap you is great but people are watching so she maintains her composure. "Lannisters just have stronger characteristics." She counters, "but my late husband adored the golden locks of our children." She declares expertly and Oberyn scoffs.

"Perhaps those characteristics are best left in this generation. Your son has chosen a bride with whom he shares no blood relation...a blessing for the kingdoms." Oberyn stabs, making Tywin clench his jaw.

“Indeed.” You smirk as you lift your cup to your lips, nodding at the queen mother as you take a small sip. Grimacing slightly at the bitterness of the wine. “Pity that the king's wedding did not merit casks of good wine to be opened.” You cough, shaking your head slightly.

Ellaria frowns, watching you cough more and Oberyn grows concerned when you start to wheeze. "What - what is happening?" He cries, "my love. Breathe!" He orders, slapping you on the back but you continue to choke, your face contorted. "Maester. Someone get a maester. She - she is with child!" Oberyn shouts, growing more panicked by the second.

Clawing at your throat, you hear the panic and commotion around you, the cruel ring of Joffrey’s laugh as you struggle to breathe. “Dornish bitches cannot handle good wine.” He scoffs, black dots appearing in your vision as you vaguely watch as he swipes his own goblet up and takes a large gulp, as if to prove he is superior.

Oberyn catches you as you collapse, his heart pounding and he tries to tell you to breathe. He begs you to breathe but you rasp and soon enough, you go still. Oberyn shakes you, “please my love. Wake up. Breathe.” He pleads as your glassy eyes stare at him, blood dripping from your mouth and his following roar of anguish can be heard across to Flea Bottom.

Joffrey starts to sputter and choke, drawing attention away from your prone form. Grasping his throat and turning purple as he tries to breathe. Making the smirk on Cersei’s face fall as she screams, rushing from her spot standing over you to where the king has collapsed.

Oberyn doesn't give a fuck that the king is suffering the same fate. His body cradles yours as he wails in agony of losing you. You are the sun in his sky, the air he breathes. He chokes, "please, my sun, come back to me." He begs and Ellaria is kneeling beside him, cupping your cheek as she begs you to wake up too.

****

“Please, my love.” Ellaria reaches for Oberyn’s arm, trying to gently coax him away from your body. “The maester needs to close the casket so it can be loaded up onto the ship.” Her red-rimmed eyes speaks of her anguish and heartbreak as she looks down at your still form. “She wants to go home, to be buried in the sands of Dorne.”

Oberyn can’t tear himself away from you. The grief weighs him down every single step he takes. His vengeance threatens to overwhelm him but he knows he cannot risk Ellaria. He has already lost so much. He has to return home and then form a plan for his revenge. Perhaps he can meet the Targaryen he has heard whispers about, assist her with her fight for the Iron Throne. “I love you, my sun.” He whispers, leaning down to kiss your lips before he allows the maester to close the casket. “What shall we do without her, Ellaria? She is - was my entire sun. Now my days are dark.”

“We will go back and hug your babies.” Ellaria whispers softly. She knows that Oberyn loves her, just like you had loved her, but there was a special bond between you and the prince. “And plot our vengeance.”

“The baby.” Oberyn chokes, “she was - she was with child again.” He swallows harshly, barely processing how much he has lost. The love of his life and a child. His other children, twelve in total, are safe in Dorne but he mourns his loss. “I - I am not sure I can live without her. How are you- you appear to be stronger than me.”

Ellaria shakes her head. “No, I am weeping on the inside but I know she would want me to be strong for you.” She murmurs, staring at the casket as the Dornish soldiers had traveled here with you, start to carry your casket to the ship. “She had not announced she was pregnant yet, how did you know?”

Oberyn smiles wistfully, “I know her. Her breasts were sore and she came quicker than normal. She couldn’t hide it from me. I knew she was with child.” He chokes, tears in his eyes as he looks at his lover, your lover. “Let us get on this ship before I do something stupid like rush into the Red Keep and slay every Lannister I see.”

Ellaria wraps her arm around Oberyn’s waist and the two of them lead a mournful procession of Dornish soldiers as they trail behind the cart loaded down with your body.

Once they are on board, the casket is laid in place and Oberyn walks over to run his fingers along the wood. He will ensure you have a proper casket when you return to Dorne. He leans down to press a kiss where your face would be when he hears the pounding. “Gods.” He frowns, “Ellaria. Come here. Do you - can you hear that?” He asks, wondering if it’s his imagination

Sobbing, you beat against the box you are in. This was not supposed to have happened. Waking up in darkness with little room to move, you had cried out until your sore voice had given way. Certain that you are in hell and that the gods are punishing you as you continue to try to get someone’s attention. The noise of the cart and horses, the docks and the men are loud, muffling your cries for help. “I’m alive!” You scream, your voice cracking. “Open it! I’m alive in here!”

Ellaria’s eyes widen. “She’s awake! My prince, she’s awake!”

Oberyn’s eyes widen back and he waves over the guards. “Open this fucking casket now! Now!” He demands and the men rush over. They all work to pry open the box and when the lid is removed, Oberyn inhales sharply when he sees your beautiful eyes meeting his, wincing from the light. “Oh my sun. You’re alive.” Oberyn reaches out to grab you, lifting you out of the casket and into his arms, his lips kissing you all over as he sobs in relief that you are alive.

You gasp in the sweet fresh air of the docks, salty and clean. Squinting your eyes against the harsh sunlight, you feel Oberyn’s arms around you and his prayerful kisses in relief. It hadn’t been supposed to happen this way and it chills you to think that you could have been locked in that box until there was no air. You couldn’t warn Oberyn, not if it had to be believable. “It worked.” You hadn’t expected to be out for as long as you were, but you hadn’t died and that was all that mattered.

“You - you were dead. Poisoned. I- fuck- we thought we had lost you.” Ellaria comes to kneel down, wrapping her arms around you and Oberyn, her own tears wetting your gown. “You’re alive. My princess. We thought -” She chokes and Oberyn kisses your forehead. “We thought you were dead. I’m so sorry, my love. We shouldn’t - the Maester declared that you were dead.”

You reach up and caress Oberyn’s face, turning to kiss Ellaria gently. “It is okay, my loves. You did not know.” You assure them, turning and kissing Oberyn fiercely. “Tell me that it worked.” You can see his brow knit together in confusion. Looking around and lowering your voice, you whisper, “tell me a Lannister is dead. Their cups were poisoned.”

Oberyn frowns, wondering what you mean until he remembers the death of Joffrey. “My love. Joffrey…he’s dead.” He declares, “he’s dead and he - you - you took the same wine to poison it? What if - it could’ve killed you. I thought it did.” He chokes, pressing his forehead against yours. “Why did you do that?” He demands to know, not wanting to believe that you did something so stupid yet so genius.

“To avenge my dear Elia, to repay them for the anguish that they have brought to our family.” You give a small giggle, pleased that you had taken out the king - the one that would hurt their egos and house the most. “Forgive me for not telling you.” You beg, looking from Oberyn to Ellaria. “I knew you would not let me go through with it if you knew. My plan was to drink only a little and get sick so there were no doubts cast on our house. I have been exposing myself to the poison over the last few weeks to build up a tolerance.”

Oberyn pulls you even closer, “you silly woman. What - the baby - you aren’t - you aren’t with child?” He asks, confusion on his face as he wonders why you’ve been so off lately. You’ve been a genius, seeking revenge in a way that no one would know but he prays you are okay after the maester inspects you.

You shake your head gently and reach out to cup his cheek. “I would never put your child in danger.” You promise him. “My symptoms were because of the poison and the antidote I was using.” You explain. “I am sorry I worried you. I was hoping more of those bastards would drink. But at least we can know we took her son from her and her daughter prefers living in Dorne.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead, relieved that you are okay. “Do not fret, my love. We will ensure you are with child soon enough.” He chuckles, “I am just relieved you are well. I could not live without my sun. Gods…I adore you.” He vows, cupping your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours, sweet and chaste in a reminder that you are okay.

You smile, reaching out to cup your husband’s cheek and you reach out to take Ellaria’s hand with your free one. “I love you.” You murmur to them both. “They have learned that Lannisters are not the only ones who pay their debts.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead. “No, the Martells get their revenge.” He responds, unable to believe he’s married to such a formidable woman. He could never live without you, ever. You are everything to him. You always have been. You are the light of his life. His sun.

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