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skvaderarts · 9 months

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Petrichor Chapter 51: Exposure

Chapter 51: Exposure

Notes: Hehehehe. Hehehe. Hehe. This was so much fun to work on. Sorry that I’m a few days late. I hope you enjoy it! It’s good to see you all again! See you in the comments!

(-~-)

The light to the guest bedroom flashed on automatically as he entered, perfectly dimmed and comfortable, their almost greyish brown hue a comfort to the eyes that took next to no adjustment on his part to become used to. As V stepped further into the room, he was greeted by plush accommodations. Four thick, fluffy pillows leaned against the grey terry cloth upholstered headboard, practically beckoning him to them. The silvery brown blankets on the bed covered matching silky grey sheats, the blankets fluffy, soft, and most importantly to him, cool to the touch, something he discovered quickly as he ran his fingertips across the linen. A high thread count and a price tag to match, no doubt. A pleasant surprise. V didn’t like to sleep hot... No, he actually couldn’t sleep at all when he was hot. It was a bit worse than that. So this was certainly a bonus that he sorely appreciated. And the comforter looked like it would be very good at helping to regulate his temperature. He got the impression that he was going to enjoy utilizing this bed.

Turning around to take in the room, he noticed the same exposed brick and ductwork that the rest of the residence shared, the entire back wall consisting of more of the same beautiful industrial windows that he’d seen. The widows were equipped with pull-down grey shear curtains that would make easy work of the light that shone in from outside. And there was a large, luscious plant in the corner of the room by the foot of the bed in a beautifully glazed pot, the cracked window more than likely supplying it with fresh air as it wafted in the breeze delicately. The soil looked freshly watered, something Sirrus had probably done sometime that day when he wasn’t paying attention unless he’d hired a plant sitter. Perhaps he had, considering his overall collection. But V especially liked this one. A Monstera of some type, if he was going to guess. That’s what the leaves looked like to him, at least. But half of some of them were white while others were pink, sometimes in full sections, and in some cases, in the form of spots and patches. Even the green on the plant came in a dark and a light variation, its colors crisp and eye-catching. A stunning plant overall, perhaps too pretty for a guest room. Perhaps it needed very specific lighting so it had been put in here for its own protection? He imagined this room received plenty of filtered, indirect light during the day. That was probably ideal for it.

Overall, the room was cozy and inviting with a cozy atmosphere, something his tired body and mind were eager to take advantage of in short order. But first, he needed to go to the bathroom. He had matters to attend to in there.

He had been correct in assuming that the doors he’d seen off to the side of Sirrus’s living space and kitchen were bedrooms, but he hadn’t realized that they were both bedrooms, each with their own private bathroom. His room and Sirrus’s shared a wall. And there was still a half bath elsewhere in the residence, something that made practical sense as you wouldn’t want people to have to walk through your bedroom to use the toilet now, would you? Well, at least if you had a choice.

Sirrus was a gracious host; the sort who bought the same expensive tolitres and personal care products that he personally used and stocked them in the guest bathroom. No surprise there. V recognized the scent of the soap he found in the shower, realizing for the first time that Sirrus was actually wearing cologne atop it when they were around one another. V liked to imagine that Sirrus likely derived some level of self-satisfaction from coming into the bathroom and seeing it so neat and tidy. He’d even admitted that he very rarely used this particular bathroom due in large part to the fact that he had his own ensuite and had very little reason to come in here aside from a need to dust. And every inch of this bathroom was utterly sparking, glittering under the overhead light in a manner he’d never seen before. Grey glass tile on every surface, a skylight over the detached standing tub and shower, and underlighting along the bottom of the wall-mounted double sink that pointed down towards the floor. And that was saying something considering the fact that the counters were made of concrete. Polished black concrete, but still concrete nonetheless. And were these floors terrazzo?!

Frankly, V felt too ordinary to even undress in this bathroom, let alone use it. Even the soap and toothpaste were in motion-activated dispensers. And the toilet was automatic…

How much money did they pay Sirrus to do his job?

Seriously, V wasn’t the sort to spend hours reading or watching media to keep up with the latest in home and garden trends, but he knew enough to know when something was very expensive. This was fascinating.

Opting to submerge every inch of his body in nearly scalding water, V was pleased to find not only that the plumbing in this place was excellent, but that Sirrus had left a bottle of bubble bath under the counter. And in the deep window sill nearest to the tub were scented candles, ones that had been partially burned as they sat in their little glass and ceramic containers on a tray, but ones that he would ask before lighting all the same.

He needed to go find Sirrus while he waited for the tub to finish. He would only be a moment.

(-~-)

She let out a long sigh as she rubbed her hands together to chase away the cold that had settled in her extremities as she stood in front of the payphone, the door closed tight behind. It was a bitterly cold night tonight, and the thin layer of snow that covered the ground was evidence of that notion. But that was no matter. She would be back in the van with her companion momentarily. She just needed to make a phone call. She’d practically felt compelled to as they passed it by, suddenly becoming a woman possessed the moment she’d seen it. And it was a number she would never forget as long as she lived.

Reaching her cold hands up to the number pad she nearly typed in the numbers before paying, shaking her head to herself and cursing under her breath as she reached into her pocket and pulled a handful of frozen change out of her pocket, counting out the correct amount before inserting it into the machine. Her mind was elsewhere, rooted so firmly in her objective that she couldn’t properly complete the tasks required to see it come to fruition. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, but she was still quietly miffed.

The phone rang in her hand as she held it. Waiting. Hoping that it wasn’t too late in the day. And then the phone picked up on the very last ring.

“Goldstine Gunsmithing and Repairs Shop. What can I do ya for?” The man’s voice on the other end was a song for sore ears. She hadn’t heard it in far too long. She needed to call home more often. She really did.

A smile spread across her face as she shook her head. Yep, this was the right number all right. She knew that voice anywhere. “Oh, nah. Nothing special. Just, ya know, checkin’ in. It’s been a while, and I know you’ve seen the news by now, so I thought I’d get in contact before you blew a gasket or showed up to find me or sumthen’.”

There was a momentary pause as the person on the other side of the phone audibly shifted before speaking, seemingly silenced from surprise. They clearly recognized her, but they certainly hadn’t been expecting to hear from her today, especially at this hour. “Nico?

“The one and only!” She retorted with exaggerated gleefulness just to throw him off kilter a little. She fiddled with a cigarette in her fingers, staring down at it for a moment before suddenly feeling all desire to light it and smoke it vacate her body. Call it a moment of self-reflection; call it a reminder of her conversation with Sirrus back in Lucia’s homeland that day, but she just couldn’t all of a sudden. Not right now, at least. So she put it back into her pocket and continued her conversation. That could wait for another time. She was talking to someone important to her.

“Well hell, watcha been up to? Everything alright around there? Heard things got pretty supernatural in those parts for a little while. Ya safe and sound?” The excitement and worry in his voice were unmistakable, and so was the pang of guilt she felt in her heart for not calling home sooner. She hoped he hadn’t been glued to the radio or the TV for the last while watching everything go down where she was, worrying himself sick over her. They were all each other had left in the world, at least in terms of blood. She had to do better than that. It wasn’t like she didn’t like talking to him or something. She loved him!

“Phf, that’s a long story. Same old same old for the most part, but a lot’s gone down since I talked to you last time, Rock. You have no idea.” Nico shook her head. And she wasn’t going to fill him on on most of it, either. It wasn’t like he could make her come back or anything like that, but she just didn’t need him worrying about her. Knowing that he was sitting at home worrying about her made Nico worry about him. That couldn’t be good for anyone. Not at all.

“Well then, fill me in! I’ve got nothing but time, girl!” She heard a chair scoot across the floor, metal on wood. That couldn’t be good for the property value. Oh, who was she kidding? That floor had seen everything and then some. It wasn’t going anywhere.

Nico chucked to herself under her breath. Of course he did! Even if he was clearly tired. But this was the man who’d raised her. She didn’t expect any less from him. If there was one thing that Rock would always do for her it was make time. Even when he didn’t have a second to spare. “And I’ve got a whole roll of quarters. Pull up a seat. We're gonna be here a while. Nero’s just gonna have to wait in the van a little longer. It won’t kill him!”

“Sure won’t. Now get talkin’. I need some details.” Rock said with a hearty chuckle, the sound of a creaking chair filling her ears. He’d quite literally settled in for the long haul, and he clearly wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

(-~-)

It had taken close to a lifetime, but V had finally come to the conclusion that he’d been in the tub long enough. And although it was physically, emotionally, and mentally agonizing for him to part from the warm waters, he finally confronted his immobile frame and demanded that it part with the soothing liquid. If he stayed in here any long he would arise with no skin and become so thoroughly relaxed that he’d never function again.

But as he reached over to blow out the candles Sirrus had lit and grab a towel so that he could depart from the tub, his blood ran ice cold. To his horror, he’d just realized that he’d left the towel that Sirrus had left him on the counter in the living room. He’d taken it in there to ask him a question, and now he was stranded in unfamiliar waters, marooned and left adrift in a sea of dread because there was simply no way in the 9 circles of hell that he was going to call Sirrus and ask him to bring one in here. There were hardly any bubbles left, and even if there had been, he knew he didn’t have it in him. He might as well just settle in, get comfortable, and die.

After several minutes of agonizing over his options, none of which he liked by any measure or standard, the young white-haired summoner swallowed like someone had just informed him that he’d contracted a debilitating illness and slowly got out of the tub. He would ask Sirrus to bring it to him. He’d considered putting his clothing back on while he was still wet and he’d briefly thought about just dashing into the room and grabbing it himself, but the first option caused him visceral physical discomfort at the very idea of it in the same way that the concept of stepping in a puddle of cold water wearing thick socks did, and the second option was something he imagined Sirrus would have a great laugh about when he inevitably discovered him in the act while V himself dropped dead from pure horror. No, he would just swallow his pride and go to the door and ask Sirrus politely to bring him the towel. It would still be embarrassing, but at least it was sensible.

V hadn’t noticed the comfortable modern armchair, thick, fuzzy rug, or the beautiful contemporary nightstands that matched the bedframe until he’d attempted to avoid getting them wet. He was going to clean this up when he was finished if it was the last thing he did. He also noticed that Sirrus had been nice enough to bring his bags over and sit them just inside of his door, probably just after he’d gotten into the tub. After all, they did share a wall. He was probably able to tell to some degree when he was moving around in the room or not. Regardless, it was kind of him, and he appreciated it. Too bad V hadn’t thought to bring a robe or a towel on this trip himself so that he could avoid this entire situation altogether. Perhaps if he just stayed very far back behind the door…

Opening the door wider than he’d probably needed to in order to see the living room from where he currently was in order to spot the towel, V actually gasped with fright as he came face to face with Sirrus, the man with the mostly red hair walking past his door en route to his own bedroom. The man stopped in his tracks and stared at him blankly and without thinking out of fear that he’d unintentionally revealed more than he wanted to in front of his friend, he closed the door as quickly as he could, only thinking about how rude slamming the door in Sirrus’s face in his own house probably was.

Chastizing himself internally as he cursed his current state of existence, he slowly cracked the door again only to find that Sirrus had come much closer to the door, so much so that they practically bumped heads when he stuck his head around the corner to confront him. Sirrus looked deeply confused, but somehow there was still a tinge of amusement in his cool grey eyes. It seemed that V had unintentionally sparked his curiosity. He looked almost concerned…

“Hello, V,” Sirrus said in a mischievously low tone, his voice almost too quiet for the young summoner’s liking. He looked like a wolf eyeing his next meal. His face was practically unreadable, his version of a poker face clearly something to behold. “Is something amiss?”

The way he said those words so knowingly… V couldn’t help but blush slightly. He’d seen something, he just knew it. And although the world wasn’t going to come to an end as a result, he certainly felt like it would. It wasn’t the first time, but it most certainly was the first time that V had done so in such a manner. And he couldn’t pinpoint why, but he just felt so embarrassed. Perhaps it was because he knew Sirrus so well as opposed to the other times when he was barely lucid and too afraid and confused for it to matter?

“Sorry. Please forgive me,” he said softly, looking down just after speaking. He didn’t have it in him to maintain eye contact at the moment. There was just something about doing so while he had that look on his face while V was undressed that didn’t feel right. In fact, it felt deeply… well, not wrong, but still. He wasn’t creeped out or anything, but he just felt unsettled, as if many eyes lingered upon him and he couldn’t shake them. He hadn’t quite experienced whatever this was before. And he wasn’t keen to do so again anytime soon.

Sirrus maintained the same expression but it softened some, his pupils widening a bit as he took on an expression ever so slightly less wolfish. “Did you need something? You look… disheveled. Are you in need of assistance?”

V nodded slower than he’d meant to, sparing a moment to wonder if that should’ve earned him a funny look or if he was just overthinking. He settled on neither and brushed it aside. It was best to get this over and done with. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d forgotten the towel. That wasn’t the problem. It was the entire prospect of speaking to someone and holding a casual conversation while completely nude that unnerved him.

“I forgot the towel you gifted me,” He said as he actively avoided eye contact, grateful that Sirrus understood his body language and tendencies enough to not pursue and pressure him any further on his refusal to do so. Few things made him more uncomfortable than when someone tried to force and maintain eye contact. “... And didn’t realize it until I got out of the shower. Do you mind… ”

“Ah,” Sirrus said with a small nod, his expression unchanged by this revelation. He didn’t seem as though he’d been expecting to hear that, but he certainly had been expecting to be asked something.“I had just noticed that a moment before you surprised me. I was going to leave it on your bed, but you beat me to the door.”

He stepped away for a moment before returning with it, setting down the empty glass he’d been carrying in the sink on the way. He appeared to fluff the brand new emerald green towel for a moment before reaching out to hand it to him, a little further back from the door than either of them initially realized. V stepped forward ever so slightly, still behind the door as he leaned over to snag it only to slip backward and nearly hit the floor face first as his legs gave out underneath him due to the wetness of the floor beneath him. V managed to grab the door just as Sirrus snagged him under the left shoulder, pulling it in a manner that wasn’t very comfortable, but sparing him a much worse fall as the door pivoted and nearly threw him onto his face. That was certainly a plus. That fact that to do so Sirrus was now standing almost fully in front of him was certainly a minus.

Excellent.

Thoroughly flustered but attempting to not acknowledge how utterly horrified and embarrassed he felt at the moment as he looked down at the floor and caught his breath, V nodded in appreciation, attempting to simply pretend that this very embarrassing situation wasn’t currently occurring. That was the best he could do to cope with it. Between his banged-up knees and his crippling embarrassment, he was having a rough night.

But as he caught his breath, he felt the comforting warmth of soft fabric drape over his freezing shoulders. He glanced up just in time for Sirrus to drape the towel over his shoulder, noticing immediately that this was a nonstandard-sized towel closer to the size of a beach towel. It came to just below his knees as Sirrus stood fully in front of him and gently wrapped him in it, obviously sensing his mounting sense of anxiety toward being completely nude and attempting to alleviate it. He didn’t say as much, but he understood the feeling. V had practically frozen in place as he waited for his knees to stop throbbing and Sirrus had clearly decided to simply not look and assist him. His arms still worked, but V was just genuinely too mortified to think clearly and ask for the towel, and simply taking it from him might have been perceived as rude. He didn’t want to come off that way.

“Are you alright, V?” Sirrus asked quietly as V quietly turned and tilted in any manner that Sirrus indicated so that he could better wrap him in the towel. His breathing had picked up slightly, but aside from the color of his face and a small porton of hit upper section of his neck, V’s face didn’t betray the dread he felt. “I’ll take a nod in place of a response if you can’t speak. I understand. You look cold.”

He wanted to reassure his friend that he was alright, but that wasn’t totally the cause. The brief impact both of his knees had made with the concrete floor had actually hurt pretty badly, but the discomfort in his joints from the force of impact and the suddenness of it all was starting to fade. V was good at catching himself when he fell, but he was much less good when he fell without expecting it. And he’d certainly had much worse falls. This was nothing but a momentary inconvenience and maybe a few small bruises come morning. He would be just fine. He nodded as asked, earning him a small pat on the shoulder. At least almost falling had taken his mind off of the situation a little bit.

“You didn’t… see anything… did you?” V asked bashfully as he finally felt his nerves ease and he regained the ability to speak, his vibrant blush betraying his embarrassment. He no longer felt exposed, but he was still embarrassed, even if only half as badly as he had been. He dared to look up at his friend as he released his supportive grip on him, seemingly satisfied with his ability to stand on two feet again. At least for now. Sirrus gave him a gentle look as he exhaled in relief that slowly gave way to the clearest expression of amusement he’d probably seen all day. V felt a chill run up his spine before his friend even spoke. He knew what that look meant. And Sirrus was too poor of a liar to be faking it. Oh. Oh no.

“Of course I did,” Sirrus said, a wolfish grin spreading across his entire face as he gently ruffled his friend’s hair. He chuckled deeply, shaking his head as he blinked, his eyes slightly wide and a small bit of red in his face as well. V wondered for all of an instant whether he was saying that just to mess with him, but he knew the answer. He just knew. As much as he wished he was, Sirrus wasn’t lying he’d seen everything. And he clearly had some opinions though he was too polite - or perhaps too embarrassed by the whole situation or on his behalf- to verbalize them. And he was utterly and eternally grateful for that because he didn’t think he could take it. “Goodnight. If you need me, simply knock.”

And with that, Sirrus nodded politely before backing away, avoiding further eye contact, and heading to his own door. V gave him a sheepish wave from his own doorway which he returned almost too playfully despite not fully looking at him before ducking inside of his door and closing the door softly. V then closed his own door, leaning against the back of it with a sigh. That could have gone better. So much better. But it also could’ve been worse, so he was glad that it hadn’t been. At least Sirrus wouldn’t tell anyone. He hoped.

“Goodnight… “ V managed to croke out sheepishly after much persistence. He knew Sirrus probably couldn’t hear him through the wall. His friend’s response had stolen all the air from his body and his head was suddenly pounding. He hadn’t realized he possessed such a strong aversion to being seen undressed until now. This almost felt like it had to be more than that. He needed to lay down. He suddenly felt unwell.

Once the door had slid closed and V had managed to stand up and dry himself off along with the trail of water that he’d made from the door to the bathtub, he sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the wall and reveled in the feeling of the cold brick against this skin. He suddenly felt hot. Unbelievably hot. Almost as though he was coming down with something. He quietly hoped that he hadn’t as he gripped the towel Sirrus had wrapped around him and held it tightly, his heart still pounding in his ears. How awkward.

After a minute or two he sighed and bent over to unzip his luggage bag, opting to start by putting something on himself. Probably not underwear, of course. He’d proven that he apparently didn’t need those to sleep in during his time in Redgrave City, but perhaps something longer, softer, and lighter around the bottom would do. Something warm that would sweat him out from under the covers in his sleep in the middle of the night and ruin his badly needed restful sleep. He had options there. He’d packed accordingly.

But just as he finished searching for his shirt, Griffon materialized in the room, cackling to himself in a tone somewhere smack dab in the middle of concern and amusement, practically nonverbally inquiring as to if he was alright in the head by tone alone; challenging the very notion of his sanity and if it truly still existed, frayed as it must be.

“Um V… Don’t mean to, ahem, interrupt you or anything but um… why didn’t you just ask me or the kitty to get it? Wouldn't that have been way easier?”

V stopped rifling through the bag about ten seconds later as his head suddenly snapped up and he stared at Griffon as though his avian summon had just open-palm slapped him in the mouth, stopping halfway through putting on the loose button-up shirt he was in the middle of buttoning up. He suddenly looked absolutely mortified. “What did you say?”

“I said… “ The iridescent blue bird suddenly stopped speaking, noticing the way that his master suddenly looked. V’s entire face was flushed with shades of bright pink, his body structure indescribably limp and his eyes totally dilated and unblinking. Some part of him had clearly just given up, but on what, he didn’t have the slightest idea. Perhaps existing? It was something essential like that for certain. He looked as though he’d just lost the will to live and wanted to peel off all of his skin, lay on the floor, curl up into it, and simply die.

His entire body slumped like a depressed sack of potatoes as his wet hair clung to his face and his shoulders, his head pivoting towards the floor as his shoulder dropped. He needed a haircut but couldn’t muster the energy to care about something like that right now despite noticing as he shook his head in disappointment. Maybe it looked better this way. At least it hid his shame-filled eyes from the gaze of others. Yes. Why hadn’t he just done that?! He’d been so worried that Sirrus would see him undressed that he’d forgotten how to think! It was the simplest, most straightforward answer, and somehow he’d totally overlooked it and gone with perhaps its total and complete antithesis, embarrassing himself for his trouble.

He’d nearly died of embarrassment, and now he was dying of shame.

That was it. This was his cue to go the hell to bed. He said nothing as he walked calmly across the room, pulled the covers back, and fell face down on the mattress, no longer able to conjure meaningful thoughts. He was well and truly ready for the burdenless joy of sleep. The void of nothingness that his mind clearly needed to retire to for a few solid hours while he regained the capacity for critical thinking. He’d had enough for one night.

With that he scooted up until his face was on one of the pillows as Griffon grabbed the soft comforter, pulling it up to his shoulders and dropping it on him with a soft flop before landing on the bedside table and preening himself. Clearly, V needed some help. He was obviously struggling, immobilized, and stupefied. Shadow simply manifested, looked at her master, and laid down next to him against the side of the bedframe on the floor. It was best not to disturb him further. Clearly, he needed a minute. Or maybe a few hours.

(-~-)

For the plant nerds out there, yes. Sirrus did spend the money to buy an Albino Variegated Monstera Deliciosa with pink undertones just to put in the room in his house that he spends the least amount of time in. He’s insane and his love language is plants and cuddling. The more rare, pretty, and unique, the better. Let’s just hope Shadow doesn’t nibble on them like every other kitty in existence. Can you imagine…

As for the shower situation and everything that happened between Sirrus and V in this chapter… THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED TO ME IN HIGH SCHOOL AT MY BEST FRIEND’S HOUSE AND THEN WE HAD TO SLEEP IN THE SAME BED. AT MY FIRST EVER SLUMBER PARTY. The shame.

I’ve already written half of the next chapter, so I’ll see you on Friday the 1st of September. Take care! Don’t overheat out there and be careful of hurricanes, tropical storms, fires, earthquakes, heatwaves, and… oh forget it. FFS. There is too much going on. Just be safe, okay? I care about you all. Don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Stay safe! Bye bye!

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sunlightheidi · 3 years

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Life Worth Living

Jihyun Kim "V" | MC / Reader

*NSFW (under cut)

Happy Sunday friends! Enjoy this very fluffy smut ~

Jihyun’s studio is your favorite room in the house.

Everything about it is light. Light wooden floors and walls a pale shade of ivory, both speckled with remnants of paint that neither of you have ever bothered cleaning. The windows are tall and give you a perfect view of the fluttering hummingbirds drinking water from the feeder you’d hung from the maple oak tree (had sat on Jihyun’s shoulders to do it – swaying and giggling).

The sun filters through the sheer curtains, illuminates the room in golden hues all through the day. It’s the perfect amount of light for Jihyun to work clearly and peacefully (whether he’s drawing, or painting or taking silly photographs of you) and lets you linger quietly in his space as he does so – content and warm in the little blue sofa and the soft blankets he’s placed in here just for you.

This little nook Jihyun has created is where you spend most of your free time. You love to lay down and daydream as you watch him work. His art is wonderful, you’ve always thought so – every piece sketched, every canvas painted, every picture taken leaves you in complete wonder of him, of his talent.

But what you love best of all is watching him create these dreamscapes; shirtless and muscles rippling as he sways freely, careless hair glittering in the light, tools in his gentle paint-stained hands – he’s beautiful.

You could lay in this little corner of yours forever; learning the names of his favorite paints, about which techniques he prefers to use, listen to way he moves and all that he dreams of.

There are days however, when minutes feel like hours and your heart feels weary because everything has gone pear-shaped and wrong. A long warm shower makes you feel a little more like yourself, but you struggle to keep your eyes open as you stumble up the stairs in your robe and nothing else, to the man you’ve given your heart and whole life too.

Ah, there he is; his back to the door and sitting on a spinning stool, paintbrush in hand and a palette in the other.

You go to him instantly, wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his back in greeting, say nothing because you don’t want to distract him from his work. You nuzzle his neck and peek over his shoulder at his current project. A landscape this time – cherry blossoms from the trip he had surprised you with for your anniversary a few months ago.

As you begin to pull away, he pulls you back and wraps his arms around you – kisses you dizzy, calls you darling and sweetheart and tells you how much he’s missed you.

You stumble into your little sanctuary afterwards, lips swollen and a little off balance but warm and happy; fall asleep the moment you wrap yourself in the coziness of your blankets.

You dream of a night in spring, of cherry blossom trees and a quiet breeze and a starry sky – a memory of gentle hands caressing your softness and making love to you under the moonlight.

The dream vanishes, colors and hues of blues and golds fill your vision – you wake to soft kisses along your thighs, on your hips. You shift a little, yawning and chest rising. Then, a gentle tap on your thigh; the solid end of a pencil. Warm, turquoise eyes meet yours as they open.

Jihyun is sitting on the sofa with you, has made room for himself at the very end with your feet on his lap, his earlier work long forgotten.

“Stay still for me, darling.”

You shudder under the weight of his gaze, seeking it even as his attention shifts back to the sketchpad in his hand, charcoal pencil in the other. Those same graceful hands that are always so careful when they take you apart; so careful and memorizing when they trace the outline of your figure on paper, and smooth an array of charcoal down the lines of your body.

Jihyun loves to spill you onto his art – pictures drawn and photographs taken of you, they are strewn all over his studio, displayed on the walls of every room in your home. They are beautiful, just like everything else about him, like everything he graces with his touch.

But hanging right next to them is your own work, a disarray of candid pictures you’ve taken of him. They are your absolute favorites because he’s always radiant and flushed, always giggles shily the moment you turn the camera on him.

“Your thoughts are spinning,” he says, eyes flickering up to you, a soft smile on his pretty mouth. “What did you dream about?”

“The night we camped underneath the stars, when the cherry blossoms were blooming.”

“Mmm,” he hums, a soft agreement. He remembers it perfectly – the night you’d laid naked with him underneath the stars and he’d made love to you until the sun rose. “A good dream then. Spread your legs a little wider, sweetheart?”

You do so, at peace with the warm flush that’s worked its way through your insides. It is still new to you, being bared like this for him to draw you, but you are comfortable. More than comfortable with him, if only a little shy at his attention, but he’s always tender with you.

His gaze flickers down your body; the blankets have long fallen to the floor, your robe in disarray and hiding nothing from him. You don’t fix it – let him watch every bit of you instead. “Are you getting a little restless, darling?”

“A little,” you admit, “but I can stay still a little longer for you.”

Jihyuns nods, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “Are you sure?” he asks, using his thumb to massage your inner thigh.

“Jihyun, dearest, you’re not meant to be making this harder for me,” you remind him, lowering your eyebrows in a faux-scowl, lip pouting. Your body shivers in delight as you witness his eyes darken – you know he loves your mouth, know it makes his fantasies unwind like nothing else.

He laughs, something dark and hoarse, but always as warm as the sun. “My apologies. You know I am just as tempted by you, if not more so.”

“Keep your hands to yourself,” you tease, letting your eyes fall closed once again as you slip into a steady daze. “Please finish quickly Jihyun, I’ve missed you terribly.”

And you have. All day long have been feeling a little heartsick for him.

You don’t open your eyes again for a while. Occasionally, you feel him moving you around; a hand adjusting the position of your arm, brushing hair from your face, or ghosting against your thighs.

It’s a while before he moves again, and you feel the sofa cushions shift as he slips his legs from beneath you; hear him place his sketchpad and charcoal down.

You open your eyes when you feel Jihyun hover above you – plush lips, soft lashes, smiling mouth, adoration in his gaze. You don’t need a single star or planet to align if only he keeps looking at you in this way for the rest of your life.

“Can I see the sketch?” You whisper, your body writhing at the wild, desperate look he gives you; know that he needs you just as badly as you need him.

You feel dizzy, drunk as you try to regain control of your body that never, never, never has enough of him.

“Later,” he answers, finally brushing his lips against yours, swallowing your moan as he presses every inch of his body against yours. He can’t ever have enough of you either.

Jihyun loves to capture these moments between you, has taken photographs of him pleasing you, of you pleasing him, of you two together; you wish he would paint this moment, the two of you intwined so tightly that you looked like one.

There is no need for preparation; you’ve been wet since he’d pressed you back into the blankets and asked you to stay there. Jihyun releases a shaky breath as he thrusts up and over your mound, coating himself in your arousal. You press his face into your neck and drape one leg over his hip, opening yourself up fully and giving unspoken permission at the same time.

You both gasp as the head of his cock notches at your entrances. His hips tremble slightly as he drives in, only stopping once his hips are tights against yours. You can’t help it; you squeeze around him, arch a little and writhe at the delicious fullness you feel.

“Thank you for waiting for me, my love” he says, and you know he doesn’t just mean today, or every other day you’ve watched him work while basking in the sunlight.

He means that period so long ago, when both of you were lost and stumbling through life but had fallen desperately in love with each other. When he’d left to learn how to live with mistakes made and figure out himself and his dreams.

You stayed and tried to make sense of what your life had become. Had spent so much of your time praying to the stars, to the moon, to the sun that he would come back to you.

He pulls backs to look at your face, brushes wild hair from your forehead and presses a kiss where his fingers had been. He only moves once he is sure you won’t look away. The first time he draws away and presses back in is enough to make you whine, enough to make you cry with the tender way he is looking at you.

Jihyun fucks into you at a gentle pace, loves to draw out the pleasure and just feel you beneath him. You understand why, too. All those years of secrecy and lying had left his body tired and his soul weary, and now he is eager for a moment of respite. He’s found that peace, the calmness he’s searched his whole life for, in you.

You can feel your wetness coating your inner thighs and his. You suck in a breath as Jihyun slicks your wetness up, fingers grazing your swollen, sensitive clit. A broken gasp leaves you as he presses harder, circling around you and you press yourself against his hand, rocking into him as he thrusts into you. You begin to flutter around him and he groans, his pace finally stuttering, his hips shaking against yours.

“Come on, baby,” he urges, flushed and eyes dark and shining. “Let me hear you.”

And you do. You let yourself vocalize everything that he makes you feel – the adoration, the love, the coursing desire that has lit a burning fire within you. He presses his mouth to yours and tastes every sound you make, pupils blown and completely blissed out in the knowledge that it’s all because of him.

He continues to stroke you through the aftershocks of pleasure, joins you with a jerk of his hips – brows furrowed, eyes shut and his lips parted as he moans your name.

When he finally pulls away, your thighs are shaking and your eyes are dropping with fatigue. He kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, pulls back to look at the mess between your thighs and sings you quiet praises.

“Come here, honey,” he whispers, slowly standing up and hooking one arm beneath your knees, the other under your shoulders and lifts you up effortlessly. You lock your arms around him and nuzzle into his neck, sigh in quiet happiness. “Let’s get to bed.”

He carries you through the hallways of this home you’ve built together. Photographs of you two line the walls, kissing and smiling and always looking at each other with joy in your eyes.

There are pictures of your friends too, posters of Zen’s productions, blurry images of Jumin with Elizabeth the 3rd, Jaehee in front of her new café, Yoosung at his recent graduation, and plenty of the reunited Choi twins on their many adventures (because Saeyoung has taken it upon himself to hang pictures on your walls too).

Days can be long, and sometimes you don’t feel like yourself; but these still images that capture the life you once dreamed of help you remember: you have Jihyun, you have a family – you need nothing else.

You lean closer to Jihyun, kiss up his neck and across his jawline. Press your lips against the corner of his smiling mouth. “I love you.”

I would have waited a lifetime for you, you think. You have made my life a living dream.

#jihyun kim #kim jihyun #mysme #mystic messenger fanfic #v mystic messenger #v mysme #mystic messenger #my work #jihyun Kim x mc #jihyun kim x reader #mysme v #mystic messenger v

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation. pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write!

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.”

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach.

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason.

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs.

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy.

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache.

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud.

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long?

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?”

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly.

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong.

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon.

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook.

You scream.

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—”

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!”

“Well… is he at least cute?”

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!”

“Tasteful nudes.”

“I’m gonna die.”

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.”

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates.

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM.

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?”

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.”

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot.

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram.

Of course, he’s stupid hot.

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well.

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more.

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend.

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league.

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on.

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen.

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen.

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?”

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot.

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?”

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?”

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.”

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!”

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.”

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?”

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance.

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing.

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.”

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures.

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.”

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something.

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie.

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.”

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.”

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy.

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really.

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing.

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.”

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment.

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film.

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic.

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?”

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.”

“You think right.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair.

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?”

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.”

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier.

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot.

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud.

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes.

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container.

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?”

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display.

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?”

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.”

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation.

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.”

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking.

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.”

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.”

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize.

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.”

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.”

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?”

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.”

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.”

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you.

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down.

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks.

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts.

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed.

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ???

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird.

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture.

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today.

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring.

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.”

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.”

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.”

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?”

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.”

You choke on your saliva.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?”

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?”

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!”

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.”

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.”

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off.

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?”

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?”

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.”

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.”

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens.

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists.

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger.

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine.

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.”

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.”

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?”

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.”

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag.

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin.

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio.

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony.

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him.

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.”

“It was.”

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table.

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.”

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.”

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity.

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die.

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more.

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them.

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.”

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists.

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset.

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself.

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.”

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.”

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink.

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set.

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.”

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.”

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.”

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?”

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that.

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?”

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?”

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.”

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself.

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.”

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.”

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.”

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame.

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home.

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead.

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade.

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?”

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?”

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this.

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.”

#jungkook fic #btsghostiebingo #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

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rfadaydreaming · 4 years

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the rfa’s instagrams ♡

instagram is his most followed platform. posts a lot of thirst pictures that’s probably why. super active, uses it almost daily. really interactive with his fans, responds as much as possible so he spends most of his time doing that. does some modeling on the side here and there, but most of the pictures he takes himself. flirty captions or quick little thanks to his fans is what usually goes along with his pictures.

doesn’t use at all, posts once a year maybe. doesn’t follow anyone and probably hasn’t even liked a post before. would definitely have more followers than zen if he was active. last update was him having wine with V during his birthday. he has basic dad captions like. “Dinner with V.” “Elizabeth.” or no caption at all. doesn’t ever interact with anyone.

elizabeth (account monitored by her dad ♡) posts once every few months. has so many flex pictures??? she’s absolutely loaded and isn’t afraid to show it off. chanel, gucci baddie on the gram. interacts with her fans sometimes but its just more flexes. “elizabeth youre so cool!” “I know.”

doesn’t post hardly ever but her feed is really pretty when she does. a lot of neutral colors. long captions where she kinda vents a little or gives updates on her life. private account and only has close friends or family following her. if she’s bored she’ll go through her feed but honestly just too busy for social media most of the time. has jumin blocked.

posts mainly whenever he’s about to go live on stream. doesn’t take his feed seriously, memes or just random pictures he has in his camera roll. scrolls through his feed more instead of posting, does it at night when hes bored. food pictures or captions complaining about school is the most common.

private account and somehow verified even with his small following? no one knows how he did that but he did. posts a lot of memes or just random things. hardly ever captions his photos, its kind of crypic but thats what he’s going for. the only account he follows is elly. has a ton of spam accounts on the side.

on here and there, not super active but he’ll post once every few weeks. comments are disabled on his account and he only allows dms from people he follows so theres not much interaction with anyone. posts whatever he finds pretty. captions are really short, “Lunch with a friend! :-)” posts a lot of poetry too.

hardly ever uses his account. feed is just random pictures he takes or likes, doesn’t use a theme, filters or anything. never has captions either, just sort of posts and goes. thinks its a bit dumb. not a big social media person in general, so he’s really inactive :(

thanks for reading! find more on my mysme masterlist ♡!

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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years

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Blood in the Rivers: X

A/N: okay! we have reached the end, my loves. I’m so sorry for taking so long, but I truly appreciate your patience. This is v v self-indulgent but hey! happy endings are important to me.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x F!Reader (Tully)

Rating: NC-17 for penetrative sex, oral sex (f-receiving), everyone has a breeding kink, mention of child birth, pregnancy, ...babies

Word Count: 13.7k ( ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Read Chapters I-IX here! or on Ao3!

Chapter Ten: Adventure Awaits

Y/N had always suspected that she would feel nervous on her wedding day. Either from dread or giddiness, she could never be sure—but she still expected some trepidation. But there was nothing except a gentle eagerness blooming in her heart as Daisy finished helping her ready for the ceremony. Her dress was a soft white silk and gossamer frock with little embellishment. But it swayed with each of her movements like the sea and made her feel beautiful.

“You look every bit a princess,” Daisy said, tears in her eyes, as she finished fastening Y/N’s maiden’s cloak to her shoulders. “I cannot believe we have finally reached this day.”

“It did take a few battles, did it not?” Y/N mused, happiness coloring her tone. “And you shall have your own happy day next moon. Finally. Daemon is the most patient of men.”

Daisy laughed. “We have found ourselves some bit of happiness here in Dorne. Have we not, my lady?”

Y/N could barely keep the smile from hurting her face as she heard the soft music coming from inside the sept. Two servants were smiling broadly at her, waiting to pull open the doors. With one last adjustment to the maiden cloak on her shoulders, Y/N nodded and they opened the great doors with a flourish.

The Sept was filled with Martells and the Sand Snakes and the Ullers, and a handful of other lords and ladies, all of them smiling, all of them happy. Y/N stepped forward, one foot in front of the other, and had to bite back a giddy laugh when she spotted Oberyn at the end of the aisle. He was dressed in his finery; cream-colored silk and brocade with silver and gold thread, emblazoned with spear-pierced suns that glittered in the candlelight. A wash of yellow and red fabric was carefully placed over his arm. Ellaria was standing closest to him, even closer than the Septon, dressed in a daffodil dress with golden chains draped over her shoulders and chest. They were beautiful.

Y/N continued forward and spotted Loreza frantically waving as she held onto Gryves’ collar, his tail wagging furiously and rucking up the hem of Loreza’s pretty dress. But Y/N waved back, earning a happy bark from Gryves.

Ellaria stepped forward before Y/N reached the end and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s, leading her the last few feet to Oberyn’s side before gently taking Y/N’s hand and placing it in Oberyn’s outstretched palm. She pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek before letting Oberyn turn them toward the Septon.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection,” the Septon said with a soft smile.

Oberyn’s warm hands slipped up Y/N’s arms to undo the fastenings of her maiden’s cloak and handed it over to a smiling Trystane as he finished before he unfurled the cloak in his arms and he cloaked her in his family’s colors, two golden suns now sitting on her shoulders. He smiled at her and Y/N once again had to will herself into quietude, wanting to shout her joy for all to hear.

“My lords, my ladies,” the septon started, “we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

Oberyn grasped her right hand and kissed her fingers before holding their joined hands out to the septon to tie a red silk ribbon around their wrists.

“Let it be known that Y/N of House Tully, and Prince Oberyn of House Nymeros Martell are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” The septon thrust out his hands. “In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity.” He then carefully undid the simple knot he had tied with a smile and told them to face each other and Oberyn greedily grasped her other hand in his and squeezed her fingers affectionately. “Repeat these words; Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger...”

Y/N and Oberyn did, saying the words almost a bit too quickly if the Septon’s quiet tutting was any indication.

But they could not be stopped. Oberyn pushed forward, “I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

“I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,” Y/N said her part and felt her heart flutter like humming bird’s wings within the confines of her ribs.

Pleased, the septon nodded.

That was all the permission Oberyn needed before he grasped at Y/N’s face. Softly, and just for her to hear, he whispered, “with this kiss, I pledge my love.”

And then he kissed her, smiling against her mouth as the crowd clapped and cheered. He gently grasped her hand in his again as they walked out of the sept and into the sunlight.

The feast was held in Sunspear’s great hall, and it was filled with raucous conversation, beautiful music, and her favorite company. Oberyn had convinced Doran to let the rest of the servants partake in the festivities so the hall was alive with some beautiful revelry.

Gifts were stacked high on the back wall and Y/N was sure they were all lovely but all she could do was revel in how Oberyn was quick to move her around the floor with all the grace of prowling panther and he nearly devoured her with hungry kisses that left her gasping and uncaring of the audience. “My wife, my moonlight.”

“My husband,” Y/N replied, smile wide. But then her gaze was caught by Ellaria’s approaching form and they both held out a hand for her.

Ellaria matched their smile and readily put her hands in theirs, letting herself be pulled close and the three of them swayed to the music—together. As it should be, as it always should have been. The next song came and went before Loreza and Dorea were begging their father for a dance which he quickly obliged after excusing himself from Y/N and Ellaria’s side with a kiss to each of their mouths. Y/N and Ellaria continued to dance and Y/N reveled in Ellaria’s soft hands as they held her close.

“You are finally ours, my love,” Ellaria whispered in her ear.

“I have always been yours,” Y/N responded, breathing in Ellaria’s expensive citrus and floral perfume in a heady breath.

Ellaria hummed and pulled her a little closer as the song started to reach its crescendo. “Yes, you have. But now the whole of the Seven Kingdoms will know.”

Y/N laughed and pressed her lips to hers, to absolutely no one’s surprise.

She could finally be free here—to love who she loved, to be who she was always meant to be.

The gifts had been opened and carefully put away by a tittering Daisy who then all but skipped out of the room just in time for Oberyn and Ellaria to drag Y/N into the softly lit room, candles casting deep shadows on the walls.

Cheers and music were still filtering into the room.

The three had foregone the calls for a traditional bedding—being carried away by a group of men and stripped of her clothing was not something she wanted and everyone knew better than to ever touch Oberyn’s wife or paramour. The fact that Y/N now had a bloody reputation might have stayed their hand, too.

But none of that mattered now. Ellaria was pressing kisses to her neck and tugging at the lacings of her soft dress as Oberyn was bodily dragging them both toward the bed. And just as he heaved them onto the silken blankets—there was a knock at the door.

“Papa!” Came the little voice on the other side.

Oberyn pulled back, lips leaving from their place just above Y/N’s chest, to look at the door.

And the knock came again. “Papa!” It was Loreza, sniffling and huffing with tears—Y/N could hear them through the door.

Oberyn sighed and righted his tunic before winking. “I shall be back soon, my loves.” He then quickly left, the sound of Oberyn’s calming voice trailing and fading as they walked down the hall.

“Nightmares again?” Y/N asked, pushing herself further into the pillows as Ellaria shifted on the bed to swing a leg over Y/N’s hips and settle over her stomach.

Ellaria nodded and then bent to press a kiss against Y/N’s lips, letting her tongue curl around hers and taste the tart Dornish wine they had all imbibed throughout the feast—probably to excess. “But you will soon have to chase away nightmares, too.” Her warm hands started to grab at the loosened bodice of Y/N’s dress and dragged it down her arms, exposing her breasts to the cooled night air.

“Oh?” Y/N asked, hazing mind trying to keep up with Ellaria’s words and her hands.

Ellaria nodded against her mouth, slipping her hand beneath the bundled fabric of Y/N’s wedding dress to trail her fingers against her stomach as the younger woman heaved with each breath. “Oh yes. Oberyn and I are going to make sure you are round with child. Another babe to fill these halls with love and laughter.”

Y/N gasped, body heating for more than just one reason. Oh, she wanted. She wanted. She wanted.

Ellaria somehow shucked Y/N’s gown past her hips and onto the stone floor as she kissed her again and had slipped her beautifully devious fingers into Y/N’s lacy smallclothes, finding her clit with a happy laugh as Y/N all but choked against her lips.

Y/N fumbled with Ellaria’s dress, trying to push and pull it—she just needed it off. She needed to feel Ellaria’s warm skin under her hands. But Ellaria was, as always, a force to be reckoned with. She pushed Y/N down onto the bed after taking pity on the poor woman and sitting straight just long enough to rid herself of her pretty gown. And Y/N warred with herself, happy to have Ellaria bare in front of her but longing for Ellaria’s fingers to once again touch her.

“All ours for the night—and every night after that,” Ellaria hummed as leaned down against to press an open-mouthed kiss against Y/N’s shining lips.

Y/N let her greedy hands slide across Ellaria’s warm skin to grab handfuls of her beautiful breasts, plucking at her hardened peaks in the way Ellaria liked and smiling when Ellaria whined. “Just as you are mine.”

Ellaria hummed, pausing to gently cradle Y/N’s face with a soft, hungry look in her dark eyes that had Y/N’s heart fluttering even more. “Tonight is about you, my love. It may not be always pleasant but we will try our best to bring you pleasure.”

Y/N could only nod—but she whined when Ellaria slipped off to the side and reclined beside Y/N, inching her fingers down Y/N’s heaving chest and swirling her fingertips around one nipple and then the next before tapping at the pile of pillows a little further up the bed.

“Come, my love.”

Y/N scurried to do as she was bid and pressed herself into the pillows. She held out her hands for Ellaria to take but was only rewarded with Ellaria shaking her head with a smile and a lick to her lips as she pushed herself up onto one arm to lean over Y/N, boxing her in. Ellaria’s perfect lips dragged down her neck to her bare shoulder and the simple touch had Y/N gasping, wine continuing to fog her mind in a wonderful haze.

“We have to get you ready. Get you wet enough that your body will take him deep.” Deft fingers plucked at the small bows at the sides of Y/N’s underclothes and Ellaria slowly pulled them away, making Y/N jump and shiver as the lace slid over her skin before Ellaria tossed them over her shoulder to join the growing pile of clothes on the stone floor. “You’re so pretty, so good. My good girl.”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself then, tangling her fingers in Ellaria’s glorious hair and dragging her lips to hers and licking into her mouth, tasting more Dornish wine. But Y/N suddenly keened when Ellaria’s fingers found her slit again—circling, circling, circling and drawing a whine from the new bride.

And it was so easy for Ellaria to coax Y/N to a breathless orgasm, her fingers tugging at Ellaria’s wrist as her hand continued to move, fingers continuing to plunder despite the slick soaking up to her wrist.

“Good girl,” Ellaria purred.

The coil that had just snapped continued to tighten again, now with a delicious bite. Ellaria’s movements were steady and continuous, again and again finding that place inside Y/N that had her gasping and whining—for more, for less—for everything. And just as she was sure the coil was going to bite and snap…Ellaria stopped. Y/N watched her head tilt toward the door.

Oberyn was standing there, arms crossed over his broad chest and a wide smile on his face. “A wonderful sight to greet me, to be sure.”

Ellaria turned just enough to lean on her elbow beside Y/N with a laugh of her own. “I am surprised you stopped to admire the view, my love.” She crooked a shining finger at Oberyn. “Come.” And then, Ellaria’s fingers slipped down Y/N’s stomach and cupped her mound for just a moment before using just two to spread Y/N’s lips to the cooled night air and Oberyn’s hungry gaze. “Isn’t she just so pretty, my love? Look how wet she is for us.” And then Ellaria pressed inside and curled her fingers, letting Y/N’s slick coat her skin as she twisted her wrist just so and had the younger woman writhing beside her again. But Ellaria quickly withdrew and held out her glistening fingers to Oberyn who greedily pulled them between his smiling lips to lick them clean, moaning at her taste.

Y/N watched it all in a daze, wanting more of that pleasure—more of what only Oberyn and Ellaria could give her even if there was just a slight sting to it, her body still overstimulated. “Oh please,” she whined, hips lifting from the bed as she watched Oberyn’s wicked tongue drag across his bottom lip in search of just a bit more of her taste.

“She is magnificent, as always. Even more so when I have you with us: my pair of perfect loves.”

Y/N’s entire body warmed at the words. Her and Ellaria. Ellaria and Oberyn. This is how it was supposed to be—all of them together. But her thoughts quickly faded into syrup as Ellaria’s dexterous fingers once again curled inside and had her struggling against the arm Ellaria had suddenly slung across her stomach. And Y/N could feel Ellaria’s smirk as she pressed her mouth against the side of Y/N’s sweat-slick throat. “You’re almost there, my love. Almost ready to finally take your prince.” The wet sound of Ellaria’s fingers quickly grew louder and louder as Y/N felt the pleasurable coil start to tighten and tighten and tighten until Ellaria used her other hand to pet at her clit, fingers brushing against it over and over again until the coil snapped and Y/N wailed.

She barely heard Ellaria’s praises and coos as she came back to herself, shaking in the other woman’s soft grip.

“You’re doing so well, my love. So well. I will never tire of seeing you take your pleasure from me. You sing so sweetly.” Ellaria’s lips caught hers in a brief kiss, tongue curling around hers before she sat straight. “Are you ready?” She asked.

Y/N nodded before her next breath pushed out of her lungs. She wanted this. She wanted all of it.

Oberyn was quickly to divest himself of his robes and breeches as Ellaria continued to trail her fingers up and down, up and down across Y/N’s stomach. Y/N felt her heart catch in her throat again, watching as Oberyn’s heavy cock was revealed. She had seen it before, of course, but just as she still grew excited at the sight of Ellaria’s perfect breasts, he was something to wonder at, too.

Oberyn slid onto the bed, long and strong legs bracketing Y/N’s knees as he smiled and leaned down just enough to kiss her, stealing her breath as his tongue plundered into her mouth.

His fingers briefly touched her folds, spreading her own wetness around and she watched as Oberyn’s smile widened and pride bloomed in her already warmed chest at the look in his honey-colored eyes. He shuffled closer, hands dragging up her thighs and pressing his thumbs into her hips to tease a squeal from her lips before he stole another kiss.

Ellaria’s fingers once again spread her wide, pushing her apart to reveal all of her, and Oberyn took his cock and let it drag against her folds and Y/N let out a choked moan, feeling him nearly catch once and then twice.

This was it. This was what she needed, the want burning in her bones like wildfire. “O-Oberyn, please…”

“She begs so prettily, my love,” Ellaria mused, nipping at Y/N’s ear. “End her torment.”

“Eager thing,” Oberyn chuckled, dark eyes burning into hers before dragging back down to her pussy and his ministrations finally stopped as the head of his cock, now shining with her, stilled, bracketed by Ellaria’s fingers. “Ready, my moonlight?”

Y/N could only nod as Ellaria’s fingers, slick and warm, curled to circle her clit, sending pleasurable jolts up and down her spine. And then Oberyn was pushing, parting her velvety walls slowly and with a determined sort of care that had her eyes watering and a smile pressing at her gasping mouth despite the small pinch and burn of the stretch that grew the deeper he sank inside. They loved her. They loved her so much and it was all so overwhelming with how much they cared about her and her pleasure. Ellaria’s fingers on her clit were steady and unwavering as Oberyn gave small thrusts, sinking a little deeper each time, making Y/N’s walls flutter around his cock.

Y/N closed her eyes as she felt the coil grow tighter and tighter, finally feeling her body clench around something thicker than her lovers’ fingers and a broken moan ripped its way out of her throat.

She felt so full and beautiful and loved and she only opened her eyes when she felt Oberyn’s lips brush against her panting mouth. His eyes were sparkling despite his labored breathing and his warm hand slid across her stomach as he gave a final thrust and was finally, finally, finally fully seated inside.

“Do you feel me, my moonlight? Right here?”

Her hand pressed over his as she felt, rather than heard, Ellaria’s laugh as her quickly unraveling mind made her tongue lead in her mouth. “I do. I feel all of you.”

Oberyn smiled and stole another kiss. “And you are well?”

And with a final curl of Ellaria’s fingers, the coil snapped and Y/N came, thighs shaking as a heady moan slipped through her spit-slick lips. She barely heard Oberyn’s answering groan as he felt her clamp down and her walls trembled.

“You are going to unmake me,” Oberyn huffed as her mind started to clear.

Her body continued to shake as he started to pull back, letting her feel each ridge and vein before slowly sliding back in. Her breath punched out of her each time he pushed deep and it always left her gasping, lungs burning.

“Her cunt feels like heaven, doesn’t it, my love?” Ellaria asked before sucking her shining fingers between her lips.

“It does,” Oberyn said with another slow drag in and out. “But I will not spend myself until she cums again.”

“I-I can’t,” Y/N said, her hand curling around Ellaria’s beautiful thigh.

“You will,” Ellaria said, tone commanding. “With your prince’s cock in your cunt, you will cum.”

But then her hands grasped at Y/N’s breasts and squeezed, rolling her hardened peaks between her fingers with an effortless ruthlessness that had Y/N arching her back, trying to give more to Ellaria to hold and grab. “I-I-” The words halted in her throat as she felt his lips find hers again, warm breath sliding against her face.

Everything was just Oberyn and Ellaria—and everything was beautiful.

Shaking hands reached up to grasp at his shoulders, trying clumsily to drag him closer—she needed him closer for some reason she couldn’t explain.

Oberyn and Ellaria showered her in praises as his thrusts continued to grow stronger; Y/N was their good girl, their love, their Moonlight, and she was taking him so well. And all of the lovely words were effecting her just as much as the delicious movement of Oberyn as he continued his deep and slow drag.

And that familiar coil started to pull tight again, slower than the previous two but much, much more intense—something she could feel in her marrow.

“O-Oh, please,” she begged, hands still scrambling for purchase against his slick back, against Ellaria’s wrists as her hand continued to move between her legs, darting from one to the other as her hips start to buck and press against Oberyn’s pistoning hips.

And Oberyn let out a guttural moan at that, feeling how he would sink deeper each time she would meet his thrusts. Ellaria leaned over to lick into his open mouth and coach another moan from his throat. His hands grasped at her hips as his paced quickened, the drag and thrust lighting each of her nerves aflame as she continued to hurdle towards another orgasm.

As the coil grew tighter, Y/N kept lifting and moving her hips, trying to match Oberyn’s movements, wanting to hear that sound again and knowing it was her who made him. And she was rewarded with his beautiful noises again and again and felt his grip tighten on her hips even as he never went too hard or too quick; still endlessly careful with her.

“Touch her again,” Oberyn said, looking at Ellaria. “Help get her there.”

Ellaria huffed a laugh at that but finally released her hold on Y/N’s chest to slide her fingers back down to simply press against Y/N’s hardened clit and making the other woman keen and wail. Y/N’s vision went white and all she could feel was a sharp pleasure spreading through her body. She collapsed, boneless, beside Ellaria who cooed her approval in sweet tones as she brushed a kiss against her temple.

Oberyn thrust twice more before sinking completely and let out guttural moan and Y/N felt warmth pool inside and she shivered, letting herself finally just feel—and come down from the high her loves had constantly maintained.

She winced, only slightly, as Oberyn slowly pulled out. He leaned down to kiss her lips, each of her breasts, and then her stomach before he stood, sliding off the side of the rumpled bed. Y/N watched him walk over to the small table and dunk a bit of cloth into the waiting bowl of water.

But Ellaria was soon sitting up with a click up her tongue. “Don’t waste it,” she said, fingers sliding through Y/N’s folds once more to gather Oberyn’s cum and press it back into Y/N’s pussy. “It belongs inside.”

Y/N could only nod at Ellaria’s command and did not have the energy to jump when Oberyn took a dampened cloth to gently clean between her thighs, pressing a kiss to each of her legs as he did so. “You were perfect, my moonlight. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you and Ellaria in my bed.”

Ellaria whispered her agreement against Y/N’s sweat-slicked temple before pressing a gentle kiss there, too, and Y/N could only smile in return—still boneless. But her mind turned as she looked at her husband and paramour.

“I know that you both cannot be sated by simply one.” Y/N crooked a finger at Oberyn as he stood straight. “While I am indisposed for the moment, please do not stifle your urges. Our love,” she said, reaching out to Ellaria, “has been too much of a giver with me, I am ashamed to admit,” Y/N said, still trying to catch her breath as she smiled.

Ellaria chuckled. “I think our Princess wants a show.”

Y/N watched Ellaria push herself to her knees and tug Oberyn into a kiss and the pair fell back onto the mussed blankets and pillows with a laugh.

Oh yes, Y/N thought as she watched them—slow hands and unhurried kisses of familiar lovers, there would be time when they could all three truly find pleasure together, but this was heaven for now.

“Raise your elbow—just a little higher,” Y/N said, standing behind Dorea at the training grounds.

Dorea huffed and but did as she was told. “Better?”

“Yes—now loose.”

The arrow flew through the air and managed to hit the target—a little more than off center.

“You grow better every day, Dorea,” Y/N said as she clapped the young girl on the shoulder. “Soon you may best me!”

Dorea squealed happily, the bow sliding from her grip before she turned and launched herself at Y/N, wrapping her surprisingly strong little arms around Y/N’s stomach in a tight squeeze. But soon the girl’s Septa appeared, the familiar look of resigned disappointment on her aged features for once again finding Dorea at the training grounds instead of at her lessons. Y/N quietly nudged her back toward the Septa as she fought a smile. She would not tell the disappointed woman that Loreza was currently running around with Gryves—they were still fond of splashing into the Sunset Sea despite the water growing colder with each passing day.

Winter had been slow to reach Dorne. The heat remained throughout the day but the nights grew colder and colder. While Ellaria and Oberyn had taken to wrapping themselves in furs from the time the sun set and until it rose again, Y/N was content with just her blankets and Gryves would occasionally manage to wriggle his massive body between her and Oberyn during the night to keep her warm. Oberyn would always grumble in the morning—mentioning how the blankets were full of Gryves’ black fur or complaining about how Gryves would always manage to kick in his sleep and push his enormous paws into Oberyn’s stomach or back. Ellaria was always happy to find the large dog in the bed, ignoring Oberyn’s mutterings to scratch behind Gryves’ ears.

Doran and Trystane had taken to the large dog, too. The two princes found Oberyn’s inability to truly befriend Gryves’ amusing and would “sneak” bits of food to him whenever they visited and Gryves had managed to hold Y/N and Ellaria’s attention for longer than a few heartbeats when Oberyn was telling a story of his adventures.

Y/N found the strange power plays between her husband and faithful dog endlessly entertaining.

It was all so…idyllic.

Ravens came and went from Dorne, even with Winter raging in the other six kingdoms. Sansa was seeing to the final stages of reconstruction to her ancestral home and was proving herself to be a very capable and shrewd Lady Stark according to the whispers that made their way down to Dorne.

Doran always smiled when he heard them and Y/N knew there was a constant stream of ravens between the Water Gardens and Winterfell, the two keeping in contact like a doting father and favored daughter.

A short letter came a few moons after her wedding in Arya’s tilted handwriting. Found Gendry. Going West.

“There you are, my moonlight!”

She turned to see Oberyn bounding across the training grounds, still only dressed in his linen sleeping trousers and an open robe, rumpled from being hastily discarded the night before. The small group of guards also using the grounds glanced at Y/N with barely contained humor before they turned back to their swords and shields.

It had only been a handful of months since the wedding and it seemed like everything and everyone had settled into a new sort of peace the Seven Kingdoms had not seen in centuries. Everything had been worth it.

She would gladly do it all again if it meant she had this.

Oberyn swept her into his arms and lazily pressed his mouth to hers as she laughed. “It is too cold and too early to have you slip away from our bed.” He dragged his lips down her throat to nip at her skin. “I thought I had thoroughly exhausted you last night—Ellaria still slumbers.”

Y/N chuckled and let him pull her a little closer before all but starting to drag her back into the fortress. In truth, she had been thoroughly exhausted last night—and many nights before that, too. The three had finally found the perfect way to touch and fuck and kiss without one needing to sidle themselves with simply watching (although, Y/N was always happy to do that).

But the mornings always came too soon and for the past fortnight, she would wake just after dawn feel strange. Not ill. But unpleasantly warm and almost itchy within her skin. The only remedy she could find was a light breakfast and fresh air. She would walk with Gryves along the shore and happily let him splash and soak her skirts, or she would take him through the orange groves and let him chase the last few birds that had not yet left. He was a good and faithful hound. No matter how free she—or Dorea or Loreza—let him roam, he would always turn back every few paces to make sure they were still there. His cold nose would greet her every morning. Gryves was either snuggled up into her side or sneaking out of Loreza’s room when the sun rose each morning. Oberyn once grumbled that the dog seemed to always find a way to separate him and Y/N or him and Ellaria during the night with his giant, furry body and Oberyn would, more often than not, find himself with a mouth full of black fur or a giant paw pushing into his stomach.

But Gryves had been acting strange. For the last handful of mornings, he did not barge ahead during their quiet walks but rather stuck to her side, his large head swiveling from side to side as if he were searching for something, guarding her.

Y/N brushed it off as the pup still finding his footing in Winter. Some blossomed, others wilted. She knew he would blossom—first winters were always a bit tenuous.

This was not the first Winter the Seven Kingdoms had weathered and it would not be the last. But it could be prosperous. Far more prosperous than the handful of years prior that had only seen war and death.

Young Shireen Baratheon—the last Baratheon—had stabilized the Stormlands and held her family’s seat of Storm’s End with a firm grasp but was still beloved by the smallfolk of her kingdom. Robb had been glad to grant clemency to Shireen and name her heir of Storm’s End after she appeared before the Iron Throne with Ser Davos Seaworth at her back to swear fealty.

The little lady who had survived Greyscale, the War of the Five Kings, and then fleeing into the wilderness of the North, had risen to become one of the most beloved and adored women of the Realm.

And even more missives came from the capital. Robb had asked for Sarella to take the Dornish Seat on the Small Council, and asked Olenna to be the Master of Coin. The Realm was finding its footing under King Robb and Queen Margaery’s careful guidance.

The Lords of the Vale had sworn fealty to Robb after the Battle of King’s Landing and there might have been a raven or two arriving at the Red Keep before the envoy from the Vale arrived. The Vale, as Y/N remembered, still knew how to play the Game. Robb had quickly lopped Petyr Baelish’s head from his shoulders when he arrived at the Red Keep to offer his ‘services’ to the new King.

Baelish’s betrayal of Eddard Stark had been, Y/N discovered, what Tyrion offered to Robb in exchange for his life. Tyrion learned of Baelish’s schemes and told Robb that his family still had an enemy high in the Mountains of the Vale.

The Lords of the Vale had also been quick to tell the new king that Baelish was suspect of Lysa’s ‘unnatural’ death and Sweetrobin was now under the guidance of Royce, the regent Petyr had begrudgingly named before setting off toward King’s Landing. It was all very quick and messy and continued to solidify Robb’s reputation as a benevolent king with a savage streak.

Y/N couldn’t be more proud of her cousin.

But sometimes he still had the uncanny ability to still bother her like a brother.

Robb had sent a raven only yesterday to ask if Oberyn, Ellaria, and Y/N would be his envoy to Essos, to treat with the Dragon Queen to solidify trade routes and the like. It would be a large undertaking and immensely important as Robb wanted to be sure his new subjects were fed during the Winter that could potentially last years and to send a Dornish envoy was a sign of respect and gratitude—at in least Doran’s eyes who told Oberyn to accept the summons.

Oberyn said he would sleep on it but Y/N knew he wanted to ask Ellaria her opinion before making a decision. Y/N had already told him it was his choice. She had made enough decisions that had impacted their family.

Gryves nosed at her hip and she only then noticed that she had slowed to a stop with her toes just within the cold reach of the Summer Sea’s seafoam, soaking the edges of her dressing gown. The large dog whined.

“I’m okay,” Y/N said, scratching him behind his ears but he whined again and then gently bit at her dressing gown, tugging her back toward the fortress. Y/N scowled as she felt her stomach clench but tried to press a smile to her face as she walked by the small group of guards she, admittedly, didn’t remember passing earlier. Gryves also greeted them with a happy yip and received a few scritches behind his ears before quickly moving back to Y/N’s side as they moved closer to the fortress’ familiar shadows.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

She had only a moment to brace before Loreza’s tiny yet surprisingly solid body ran straight at her legs, wrapping her arms around her hips with a giggle. “You are up early, little one,” Y/N said, letting her hands curl around the girl’s shoulders as Gryves happily sniffed at the girl’s shoes in greeting.

“Papa said we’re going on an adventure!” She exclaimed as she jumped back, hopping in place in excitement.

“An adventure?” Y/N repeated with a smile, knowing exactly what Loreza was announcing—he made his decision, apparently. Oberyn had decided to take Robb’s assignment—and take along his daughters, too. Not that his decision was a surprise in any regard. There was no way he would leave his daughters behind again.

“Across the Narrow Sea!” As Loreza continued to excitedly explain all the details of the ‘adventure,’ Y/N caught sight of Oberyn leaning against one of the marble pillars, smiling as his youngest looked up at her, nearly vibrating with joy. “Obella says the Dragon Queen is pretty—but she lets her dragons eat people!”

Y/N bit her tongue for a moment before making a mental note to speak with Obella and maybe let her know that exaggerating the truth with Loreza might be entertaining, it was not a pastime to be encouraged when the little one had a wild imagination and was prone to nightmares already. “Her dragons are fond of goats, Loreza, and I know she keeps them well-fed. Obella is simply teasing you,” Y/N said, repeating the information she had managed to gather from a certain little lion who had managed to build a new life in Essos. Tyrion, it seemed, still had a soft spot for Y/N—and maybe learning that Jaime was alive, and at his side, because Y/N and Arya had King Robb’s ear might have given him a little more incentive to help her.

Loreza’s bottom lip jutted out, as if a little upset that she was no longer in danger of being eaten, but then giggled as Gryves licked at her fingers, quietly demanding to be pet. “Do you think I’ll be able to see one?”

“I am sure we will be able to see one if Her Grace wants to meet with us, little one,” Y/N said.

Loreza nodded, already too engrossed in Gryves’ affections to truly listen to Y/N’s words. “I should like to see a dragon, you know.”

Y/N was not sure if Loreza’s words were meant for her or Gryves but she hummed in acknowledgement and then settled into Oberyn’s warm embrace as his arms wrapped around her waist from the back and Loreza finally noticed her father and giggled up at him, still happily letting Gryves take most of her attention and affections.

“You’re up early,” Y/N hummed, turning her head just enough to press a kiss to his sharp jaw.

“Not as early as you, my moonlight,” he murmured, squeezing her around the middle. “And it seems my daughter has beat me to my grand reveal.”

“Sorry, papa,” Loreza said, still focused on Gryves, not sorry at all.

Oberyn hummed and kissed Y/N’s neck. “What say you, wife? One more adventure?”

Y/N watched Loreza scurry away with Gryves and let herself sink a little more into her husband’s hold. “I’ve always wanted to go to Essos.”

Oberyn’s lips skirted across her pulse. “I want to take you to Pentos when we are finished with our business with the Dragon Queen. I want you to know where your mother came from, to know her as she knew you.”

Tears Y/N didn’t know she had suddenly burned at the back of her eyes and she turned to press her forehead against his shoulder, grabbing fistfuls of his loose robes and breathing in the scent of him and blinked back the strange show of emotion. “You are a good man, Oberyn.”

His hold tightened. “Only for the ladies of my life.”

The sea did not agree with Y/N.

The constant swaying of the boat had her stomach rolling from the time she woke until lunch and Ellaria was always quick to press a cooled cloth to her cheeks and force a bit of juice into her stomach along with dry bread in an attempt to help while Oberyn was adamant she try to sleep as much as she could. Elia and Obara did tease Y/N at their nightly dinners on the polished deck—“you’re the sea-sick serpent,” was their favorite jape and never failed to make her smile. Tyene offered some sparkling, pink drink with a small smile and a quiet murmur that she wasn’t fond of traveling by sea either. The concoction tasted like honey and citrus and rolled her stomach for only a moment before granting Y/N a few hours reprieve each day they were aboard the large ship. Oberyn and Ellaria quickly made use of those few hours to sequester themselves in the dark cabin and let themselves indulge in carnal desires that Y/N was more than happy to partake in. Oberyn and Ellaria always left her panting and sated—and with a pillow under her hips and laughter on their lips. It was…wonderful in a beautifully chaotic way. They would talk in hushed whispers and quiet laughs until one of them—usually Y/N—fell asleep.

While the company was good, Y/N was thankful that Queen Daenerys had been willing to meet them in Myr instead of her usual seat of power of Mereen in Dragon’s Bay. It took several weeks off their travel time and Y/N was much too pleased to step out onto the wooden boards of the gangplank and she felt something solid under her feet for the first time since they had departed from Sunspear.

A large group was waiting at the docks, bedecked in white and purple silks with black leathers and a three-headed dragon pin over their hearts.

“Welcome to the Stormborn Empire,” a man said with a tip of his head. “Queen Daenerys has asked that you follow us to the palace.”

Ellaria stepped to her side and linked their arms together with a smile as Oberyn dealt with the emissaries with his usual bravado with Sallera at his side and Obara at his back. “Another adventure, hm?” Ellaria murmured.

“Yes,” Y/N said, feeling a touch of excitement in her stomach instead of sea sickness. “Let’s make the most of it.”

Myr was a city of science and art and the markets they moved through glittered with finery and Y/N tried to make a note of the stalls she wanted to peruse if they ever had a chance to leave the palace between meetings with the Queen. Nymeria was already haggling with a merchant over a filigreed dagger with a pearl-encrusted hilt. The air was crisp with the scent of the sea, foreign spices, and expensive perfumes and Y/N breathed it in, tilting her head back to feel the sun’s warmth on her face for the first time in this strange land.

But a shadow passed across the sun and had Y/N blinking in confusion toward the sky. She was dreaming—she was sure of it. A large black dragon nearly blotted out the sun with its massive wingspan, only needing to flap its wings once to stay airborne as it continued toward the gleaming white-stone palace a few paces north.

A dragon. A real dragon.

Y/N listened to Loreza nearly screech with excitement as Dorea and Obella gasped.

“She has three, does she not?” Ellaria said, also looking up. “I wonder what other marvels this land will hold for us.”

Daisy was still glowing; the smile she had at her wedding ceremony seemed now to be a permanent fixture on her face. Daemon seemed to be a bit lighter on his feet, too. He and Daisy were now Lord and Lady Sandstar, having been given the title and prestige of a House of Landed Knights and ‘legitimized’ name as a wedding gift from a grateful House Martell and the reigning king and queen of Westeros. A small keep outside the Shadow City was also given but the newlyweds still spent most of their time within Sunspear’s walls but both had accompanied the Martells to Myr.

“I have never been further east than Sunspear, Princess,” she said as she helped Y/N unpack their trunks despite Y/N her (repeatedly) it was not her duty any longer. “This is quite the adventure.”

A stern-looking older man had welcomed them into the “small” palace made entirely of white marble and sand-colored stone and said Queen Daenerys offered them grand apartments as they discussed trade agreements the following day. The man apologized on behalf of his queen, stating that Daenerys and her consort were away settling a small dispute within their large khalasar outside the city walls but would return by morning.

No one seemed to mind, happy to explore Myr and all its treasures for the rest of the day instead of having to collect themselves for hours-long discussions about trade and alliances.

The rooms they had been given were filled with velvet-lined pillows and cushions and fine silks and linens in an array of muted greens and soft tans. A sapphire blue pool was on the terrace and it sparkled in the sunlight while a looming persimmon tree provided a small bit of shade.

“I daresay I enjoy this sort of adventure much more than the ones we are accustomed to back in King’s Landing, no?” Y/N said with a small laugh.

Most everyone else had absconded to the city to find their own escapades before supper. Y/N promised Ellaria she would meet her and the little ones at the bazaar as soon as she was finished unpacking. Obara and Elia had tried to get Y/N to come to the training grounds to watch the famed Unsullied spar but had managed to agree to accompany them in the morning as a happy medium. Oberyn promised to show his older daughters where he spent his time in Myr when he was with the Second Sons but would meet everyone in the bazaar before sundown.

Daisy laughed and finished with the last trunk before linking her arm with Y/N’s, and leading her out of the pleasantly quiet castle and into the Myrish sunlight. And the day was pleasant. Ellaria and the girls were easily spotted and had filled their arms with fresh breads and fine linens—and even a few small dragon sculptures Dorea was particularly fond of.

“It is good to see you well again,” Daisy said as they looked over a stall of tapestries while they waited for Ellaria to help Obella haggle for a bracelet of hammered copper. “For a moment, I thought you were…” her eyes flittered around, as if trying to find some hidden threat until Y/N reached out and gently squeezed her hand. “I thought you might be truly ill. Your Prince was fretting the entire time, you know. Nearly scolded the captain every time a wave jostled the boat too much for his liking. He is still very much the Viper.”

Y/N simply smiled and shook her head. “He and Ellaria are too good to me.”

“They treat you as you deserve, Princess. Just as you treat them. They will sing songs of your love in the years to come, I know it.”

Ellaria turned and held up a bolt of yellow lace with a smile and a wink in Y/N’s direction and Y/N had to laugh, remembering the yellow dress that had essentially started it all.

Something hit her nose—something acrid and curdled and Y/N had to hurriedly press a hand over her mouth to keep herself from spewing the contents of her stomach across the stone walkway.

“Princess?”

Y/N waved away Daisy’s concern and tried to pull in a steadying breath as she screwed her eyes shut as if that would stop the rolling of her stomach. And then as soon as it came, it passed. “I am fine, Daisy. My stomach is still acclimating to solid ground, it seems.” Daisy seemed unconvinced but nodded as Y/N tried to smile again. She spotted Oberyn with his older daughters, slowly making their way toward Ellaria and the little ones. All of them were cast in the dying, golden light of the day, making them look like some beautiful, moving painting that should be hung in the halls of a palace or sept for all to see.

This was her family.

Y/N pulled in a breath and waved as Dorea proudly held another tiny Morningstar above her head, victorious. While she had forgotten her beloved weapon at home (and had pouted about it for nearly the entire first day aboard the ship), it seemed Dorea had found a suitable replacement.

Hopefully she wouldn’t break anything in Queen Daenerys’ palace before the trade agreements were completed.

Oberyn’s beautiful brown eyes tracked across the crowded walkway before landing on her. A familiar smile pushed up his plush lips and Y/N found herself mirroring his grin even as an odd sensation started to pull at the back of her mind. Oberyn’s smile died and he was shoving his way through the crowd as the world suddenly went dark.

Y/N woke with a start, barely registering the unfamiliar bed before she emptied her stomach into a brass pot on the floor. Ellaria was at her side in a moment, rubbing soothing circle into her back as her stomach continued to roll.

Oberyn stepped into her line of vision with a glass of deep purple juice that smelled of something sweet. Y/N took the glass and drank it without preamble to rid her mouth of the taste of bile.

“I thought we were done surprising each other, my moonlight,” he said softly, his hand joining Ellaria’s on her back.

“What happened?”

“You fainted,” Ellaria said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Nearly opened your skull on the stone if not for Daisy’s quick hands to steady you.”

“I thought sea-sickness would have stopped after we docked.” Her poor attempt at a joke only made Oberyn sigh, a small smile now starting to pull at the corners of his mouth.

“You are not sick,” he said.

“Oh?” Confusion washed over her as Oberyn took the empty glass from her hands as a servant dealt with the brass pot. Ellaria moved to sit beside her on the bed as Oberyn mirrored her action, boxing Y/N in with their familiar warmth.

“You are with child, my love.” Her hands settled against Y/N’s stomach with a smile. “A prince or princess of Dorne grows just here.”

Oberyn nuzzled into Y/N’s neck and the smile she felt against her pulse had her laughing.

“A baby? Are you certain?”

Ellaria nodded with tears glistening in her eyes and Y/N placed her hands over hers and squeezed. “Queen Daenerys’ own healer saw to you after we brought you here. He confirmed it. You will be due in a handful of moons.”

Tears filled her eyes and she let out a watery laugh, her hands continuing to squeeze Ellaria’s. “A baby. We certainly wasted no time.”

Oberyn and Ellaria laughed at that, earning her a pair of kisses to her cheeks before Ellaria gently brushed her tears away. “No tears, my love. Only joy. And you must promise to tell us if you are feeling ill. We cannot have you fainting again.”

“I promise.”

The three spoke for a little longer, in soft tones about the future and how she will look “wondrous, ethereal, when you start to show, my moonlight” and how loved the babe already was by all of them.

But then a silly, almost childish thought crossed her mind. “Will you still take me to Pentos?”

Oberyn leaned in to press his smiling mouth against her forehead. “I will take you anywhere you desire, my moonlight. You are giving us a most precious gift; I will give you anything you desire.”

The Dragon Queen was a petite woman with the same look as her ancestors—silver hair and purple eyes. At her back stood Gaelor, a tall man with the same Valyrian characteristics and his mouth set in a firm line. Her consort, some nobleman of the Blood of Old Valyria and a man of few words except to make his wife smile if the whispers she’d heard were true.

Y/N was almost giddy to be able to speak in her mother’s tongue and to speak with Daenerys in hers. Bastard and High Valyrian were much easier for her mouth anyway, and she loved that she could finally find a way to tease Oberyn and Ellaria in her own way. Both of them knew enough High Valyrian to understand most of what she was saying—and paid back in kind with heated kisses in shadowed corners between meetings with Daenerys and her advisors—which seemed to go swimmingly, if Y/N had anything to say about it. Oberyn and Sarella were master negotiators and Ellaria was always quick to offer a kind smile and differing opinion when tensions ran a bit too high with a handful of the Dragon Queen’s advisors and kept the conversation flowing.

When they adjourned the meeting for the third day and she did not have any other set plans, Y/N found herself mostly drawn to Queen Daenerys’ Hand, a woman with delicate features and beautiful eyes named Missandei. Y/N asked her to share a bit of time and tea with her if she was amiable—and she was, much to Y/N’s relief. Within only a handful of hours, Y/N found Missandei to be perhaps the most intelligent and compassionate person she had ever met. Listening to her speak of Daenerys’ campaign across Essos, building her empire from the Bone Mountains to the shores of the Narrow Sea (leaving on Braavos out from under her rule, knowing the Braavosi had had their fair share of Valyrian overlords), had taken most of the day and into the night and the discussion turned from political machinations to how they both found homes in foreign lands—there was something so beautifully enrapturing about her and Y/N did not miss how Missandei’s gentle eyes would sparkle whenever Grey Worm, Daenerys’ most trusted sword (aside from the former Kingsguard Knight Ser Barristan), would step into the room to whisper something or other into a different guard’s ear as the rotation continued.

“I have kept you from each other in my selfish desire to hear your stories, Lady Missandei. I apologize. Please, take your leave. I did not mean to keep you so long.”

Missandei shook her head. “It was a welcome reprieve from court, Princess. I truly did not mind.”

The door opened again and Y/N let her smile break across her face as Grey Worm once again entered the room. “You may not have minded, but I would be so bold to assume that there is someone who might require your presence more than I do.” Y/N gestured toward Grey Worm who was whispering into the out-going guard but his kind, dark eyes would ever so briefly flitter to Missandei.

The royal adviser smiled and shook her head but she did not deny it.

“Our conversation has been a joy but I will never keep you from someone who makes you smile like that,” Y/N said as she reached out to gently squeeze her hands. “I will see you in the morn.”

Missandei nodded and they whispered their goodnights before Grey Worm stepped to their side and held out a hand for Missandei to take, gently helping her up from her seat.

Y/N eventually found her way back to her rooms and undressed before sliding under the blankets to press against Oberyn’s warm back and kiss his shoulder as he reached back to grab one of her hands and kiss her fingers before holding her hand over his heart. “Goodnight, my moonlight.”

On the last day of their Myrish political adventure, Y/N found herself once again waking before her pair of loves and quietly snuck out of her rooms to wander the palace’s halls as her stomach rolled lightly but the fresh air settled it for the most part. She smiled at a few of the quietly moving servants who were preparing for the day in the inky blue light of dawn and managed to find the kitchens and was readily given a small bowl of berries and a cup of juice by an older cook with a gentle smile who spoke softly to Y/N in Valyrian as she kneaded dough for the day. Y/N eventually excused herself as the kitchens grew more and more crowded with people arriving for their duties and she wandered out toward one of the balconies that looked out over the heart of the city.

There was a thunderous roar overhead just as she settled into a lacquered chair and Y/N watched Drogon soar over the city, in awe of the beautiful creature.

Daenerys had been kind enough to indulge Y/N the day before and walked with her out to where her three sons were nesting and gently coaxed Drogon out before letting Y/N feel the strangely warm and shining black scales beneath her palm. The large dragon huffed and pressed his large snout against her belly.

“They can tell when you are with child,” Daenerys said with a smile, letting her dainty hand run up and down her favorite dragon’s neck. “They become very protective. If you had stayed any longer, I would have to worry that he would not let you leave.”

And, as strange as it seemed, it reminded Y/N of Gryves. He must have sensed the change before even she did—and that is why he had been so careful around her before they had left Sunspear. She knew he was in good company at the Water Gardens with Doran and Trystane, probably getting fed fine steak every night.

“Hello,” a soft voice said, gaining Y/N’s attention.

Y/N turned and spotted a young girl, no older than three and a mirror image of her mother with silver-gold hair—mussed and tangled with sleep—and amethyst-colored eyes. “Hello, princess.” While Daenerys had kept her daughter mostly away from the meetings, the little girl had been known to flit in and out of the room to sit on her parents’ laps and nap whenever she felt like it.

“May I have a berry?” Her little hand was already raised to pluck one from the bowl.

“Of course,” Y/N said, letting her take a juicy red berry from the pile. “You are up early.”

The girl nodded and happily popped the berry between her lips and chewed. “I heard mother’s dragons. They wake me up almost every day.” She sighed loudly and then invited herself onto Y/N’s lap before taking another berry. “Mother said I will be able to fly one, one day.”

“I’m sure you will, Princess,” Y/N said with a smile.

The pair spoke for a little longer—mostly about how the little princess hoped Rhaegal would be her dragon as the sun continued to rise and make Myr start to glitter—before there was a soft sound of sandaled feet on stone met her ears. Y/N turned to see the Dragon Queen walking in, a soft smile on her face as she spotted her daughter in Y/N’s arms.

“Rhaella,” Daenerys sang out the name, stretching out her arms and letting the small child run into her hold after she wiggled off Y/N’s lap. “She was not bothering you, I hope.”

Y/N stood and shook her head. “Of course not. We were simply enjoying some berries together and watching the sun rise.” Y/N held out the bowl of berries and let Rhaella take another, a bit of purple juice running down her chin before her mother wiped it away and kissed her cheek.

Y/N briefly wondered if her child would look more like her or Oberyn; would she have quiet mornings like this once they were born? Watching the sun rise over the Summer Sea and eating berries in the quiet morning air?

“Will you join us for breakfast? If you have not had your fill of berries?”

The final discussion about the trade agreements was supposed to simply formalities and signing of the written treaties but had devolved into another argument between Daenerys’ advisors and Oberyn who differed on how each side would keep to their agreements.

“There must be some sort of tie, a true bond, make sure they keep their side of the agreement when Winter comes to Essos. If Prince Oberyn had any sons, they might make a suitable consort to Princess Rhaella. Or if he had thought to consult his king, we might have avoided this diatribe entirely—how can they be a true envoy for Westeros if they are not even sure if King Robb and Queen Margaery have heirs to be used as-”

Daenerys waved her hand and effectively halted any other words her advisor might have said on the subject. “Children will not be used as pawns.”

And Y/N let out a breath she did not know she was holding and Oberyn curled his fingers over her thigh for comfort. “A welcome reprieve from the usual trappings, Your Grace. Thank you.”

But Y/N’s gaze flittered over to the advisor whose pasty white skin was growing redder with each passing moment. And perhaps Y/N would blame her sudden anger on her constantly rolling emotions, but she simply had never liked the pale-faced advisor and his constant sneering at Oberyn, Ellaria, and their daughters and she had reached a breaking point. “Forgive me, but it seems not all present share your sentiment. Do you have more to say? It would seem you think you are the one we are to be negotiating with, instead of Her Grace.”

Sarella nudged her foot under the table, trying to fight a smile.

Daenerys, for the first time since they had arrived on Essos, looked like the battle-hardened conqueror the world knew her to be as she dragged her violet-colored gaze to her advisor, tiny hand nearly snapping the quill in her grasp. “You have embarrassed me and yourself enough,” she hissed in Valyrian. “You are only here as an act of goodwill toward Qarth who has overstepped time and time again. I want you out of my sight and out of the city.”

The advisor gaped as he stared at the queen—unmoving.

“Now.”

When he continued to not move, two Unsullied marched to the back of his chair and yanked him to his feet as he sputtered over his next breath and panicked apologies soon followed—even after he was dragged out of the hall.

Daenerys took a quiet but deep breath before letting another small smile push at her lips. “I apologize for the interruption. Now, I do not see why the Seven Kingdoms would not hold up their end of the agreement when Winter comes to Essos. I know House Martell honors their promises, even if previous generations of House Targaryen was not worthy of them.”

And then Oberyn’s fingers tightened on Y/N’s thigh for his own comfort. But Daenerys’ sentiment was genuine.

“We will provide for each other—as friends and allies across the Narrow Sea.”

Oberyn, Ellaria, and Y/N each grabbed their chalices—filled with wine or juice—and raised them toward Daenerys. “To the Dragon Queen!”

The great hall of the Myrish palace was alive with music and dancing and the air smelled sweet with wine. Dorea and Loreza were currently each holding one of Y/N’s hands and they simply swayed to the music, almost on beat as Tyene teased them for lack of coordination as she spun around them on the arm of some nobleman who was already besotted. Obara and Elia were speaking with a handful of Unsullied near a table filled with honey cakes and persimmons while Obella and Oberyn danced—much more gracefully a few couples away. Sarella and Nymeria had, unsurprisingly, found their way to Daenerys’ side and the three were speaking as if they were old friends.

Y/N spotted Grey Worm gently take Missandei’s hand and lead her in a dance. It was good to see almost everyone enjoying the bit of festivities Daenerys had insisted upon. It was an oddly docile end to a slightly chaotic trip but she was happy to not have any other stressors—Ellaria had threatened to put her on bedrest until the baby was born if she fainted again.

The song finished with a muted flourish and Y/N’s two partners darted away toward the honey cakes. Y/N was quickly offered a cup of juice—a blend Daenerys had been fond of when she was with child—and thanked the servant as she looked over the small crowd. Tomorrow they would sail for Pentos for a handful of days before making their way back to Dorne. Ships filled with food were already on the way to Westeros, bearing the seals of the Stormborn Empire.

It was a triumph, to be sure.

But she simply wanted to be back in Dorne, wrapped up in her familiar blankets and her husband and paramour’s arms, listening to the girls laugh in the halls as the waves crashed against the shore and her beloved hound napped near her feet.

And it was a solace to know that it would be happening soon. She would not cut their trip short—seeing Pentos and bringing the girls to see it too was an adventure she knew needed to happen.

“You look pensive, my moonlight,” Oberyn said, slinking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “It is a joyous night.”

“It is,” she agreed, leaning into his grasp. Both of them noticed Ellaria, draped in a fiery red gossamer gown—a gift from Daenerys—was dancing with Gaelor.

Gaelor smiled—just for a moment—at something Ellaria whispered in his ear.

“She can rend smiles from stone,” Oberyn mused with a smile of his own.

“You know, Robb could have simply sent Ellaria and Sarella for this—they are the true negotiators.”

Oberyn’s chest rumbled with a poorly contained laugh. “True, my moonlight. But I am happy to have this adventure with you and Ellaria, with my girls.” He pulled her a little closer then made her sway to the music, a laugh bubbling from her throat. “Now, tell me. What has you brooding?”

Y/N continued to sway with him and let her hands rest over his arms as they held her tight. “I miss Dorne. I miss home.” She paused and grimaced. “It sounds silly when I say it aloud.”

Oberyn turned his face just enough to press his lips against her throat. “It is not silly. Wanting to return home is natural. Do you want to set sail-”

“No, no, my love. I want to see Pentos—as do the girls. I will not take that opportunity away. I doubt we will have a Stormborn escort if we return later. It is better to do it now—before we have another little one.”

“If you are sure,” he said, face still tucked against her throat.

“I am sure,” Y/N said with another squeeze to his arms as the music continued to play. “One more adventure before we welcome the newest little snake to our brood. It will be good. I know it.”

Pentos was beautiful—as Y/N knew it would be. Her mother and grandparents’ stories had filled her head with pictures of how it would look, what it would be like—what she would encounter. And she spent a few melancholy moments wondering if her mother walked the same streets as she did. She wondered if her grandparents would recognize the city as it was now, under Daenerys’ new rule.

But, yes, Pentos was beautiful. Fragrant with flowers and clean water and a bite of some spice Y/N could not name but recognized as it had clung to her grandmother’s dresses. The Magisters welcomed them into the city and made sure to house them in a palatial manse and were quick to get them anything they even glanced at while accompanying them throughout the bazaars.

Oberyn found it both hilarious and irksome to be so coddled.

“How am I supposed to ravish you in a dark city corner if we are being followed like disobedient children?”

“I think they would like the show, my love,” Ellaria said with a laugh.

Y/N snorted and shook her head. “You two are insatiable.”

“You were the reason our breakfast was served cold this morning, my moonlight.” His fingers danced down Y/N’s spine before pinching her butt with a smirk. “But you will never hear me complain about feeling Ellaria’s warmth around me and your tongue on my-”

Y/N smacked at his chest and shushed him as a group of children rushed by. “You seemed to enjoy it, my prince. But I will not do it again if you tell everyone.”

Ellaria laughed as Oberyn grinned wolfishly. “Every person in this Realm should know that I aim to please my lover and wife—no matter the hour.”

“You can commission a song when we are back in Dorne—but let us have some air of mystery while we are here, hm?” Y/N patted his stomach with a grin of her own.

“We could have a song for you here, Princess!” One of the Magisters said, nearly begging in his tone. “Our bards are legendary!”

Ellaria did little to conceal her laugh which soon had Y/N in stitches, too.

Yes, Pentos had changed. And perhaps she would want to visit again. But her mother had found a home in the Vale with her father. And Y/N had found a home in Dorne with Ellaria and Oberyn and their daughters.

And it was time to go home.

“There are two.”

“Two?” Y/N repeated, pitch rising in tone. “Two babies?” Her hands pressed against her stomach—quickly followed by Gryves’ cold snout, as if he could help soothe something. “Are you certain?”

The midwife nodded, a smile on her face. “You have been blessed.”

Y/N had wondered why her babe was constantly moving and kicking at her bladder and ribs at the same time—but it seemed they had conspired to move together.

“No wonder you are so irritable!” Obara dodged the slap Y/N aimed at her shoulder with a laugh. “Father is going to be pleased. An even ten.”

“Why are you even here?” Y/N asked, fighting a smile. “You are supposed to be helping Dorea with her Morningstar!”

“With Father and Ellaria away with Uncle Doran and Lady Daisy confined to her home with a cold, you know I wasn’t going to let you go to this alone.”

Tears filled Y/N’s eyes so swiftly it caught her off-guard and all she could say was a meager, “thank you,” in response to Obara’s gruff kindness.

“Don’t start crying—I’ll have to call Elia and you know she will only start crying, too. You know how excited she is for another little one—or two now, it seems.”

Y/N sniffled and nodded, “Yes, I know.” Gryves, sensing more duress, placed his head in Y/N’s lap and his big, black eyes looked up at her in worry.

As the midwife quietly excused herself, Obara awkwardly but sincerely tried to console the whimpering pregnant woman at her side with a few soft pats to her shoulder. “They will be good children—little hellions with father’s eyes and your penchant for trouble.”

“My penchant for trouble?” Y/N snorted through tears. “I am almost offended.”

It had been a quick pregnancy, if Y/N was honest. The months had flown by in a whirlwind of well-wishes, gifts from the other kingdoms, and a myriad of emotions that seemed to fling from one extreme to the other within in moments on some days. All that could truly calm her—or the babes down—was Oberyn and Ellaria and they were off with Doran, planning to host Robb and Margaery to celebrate the coming of Spring after a blessedly short Winter. Y/N had wanted to travel to the Water Gardens, too, but had found riding on Qēlos to be uncomfortable and the poor mare seemed to sense her duress and would stop every few paces and look back at Y/N in the saddle before they both deemed it impossible to ride until the baby had been delivered.

“They will be home soon,” Obara said gently with a squeeze to her shoulder. “Before nightfall—but with how anxious they were to leave you, I would not be surprised if they arrived earlier.”

One of the babies suddenly kicked and Y/N winced. “I do hope you’re right.”

And, of course, Obara was correct. Ellaria and Oberyn were all but sprinting into their chambers, arms laden with more gifts from Doran and more Dornish lords and ladies who wanted to lathe their well-wishes on the soon-to-be-born Martell. But all of them were dropped unceremoniously on the ground near the door as soon as they entered.

“My moonlight!” Oberyn nearly shouted before he dove onto their massive featherbed and pressed a quick kiss to her stomach before taking his time when his mouth reached hers, sighing against her lips. “We refuse to leave you again until the baby is born.”

“We could not concentrate on anything poor Doran needed for this silly little party,” Ellaria said, also sliding into the bed and stealing a kiss from Y/N’s lips. “I thought we would come back to Sunspear to see you with a babe on your breast.”

“You were gone for two days, my loves,” Y/N said with a small laugh, letting the pair continue to curl around her in the mess of blankets and pillows. “I would have sent someone if the midwife had said it was time.”

Oberyn hummed and kissed at her shoulder. “Even so, we are not leaving your side again.”

“But I do have news-”

“Is the baby healthy? What did the midwife say?” Ellaria asked in quick succession, hand splaying against Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N huffed out another laugh and placed one hand over Ellaria’s before reaching out to grasp Oberyn’s hand, too. “The midwife seems to think that we have been blessed.” The matching looks of confusion on Ellaria and Oberyn’s faces had another laugh bubbling in her throat. “They are healthy—no need to worry. But, she did give me some news.” And because she loved teasing the pair just a bit, she paused and watched a flurry of emotions pass over both their faces before ending their torment. “There are two babies.”

“Two?!” “TWINS?!” Oberyn and Ellaria’s voices reverberated in the room and had Y/N laughing like a drunkard until tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“Yes! Two!”

There was another shout that Y/N couldn’t quite understand but then two pairs of hands were pressing all over her stomach, followed by excited kisses and then her dressing gown was being pulled up to show her stomach and even more kisses were lathed against her warm skin.

Between happy sighs, almost-chaste kisses, and words of wonderment, clothes were shed and discarded across the bed and floor and lingering touches became more ardent. Lips lingered. Tasted. And they once again found ecstasy in each other’s arms. Oberyn kissed between Y/N’s heaving breasts as he finished, and then kissed her lips, still tasting of Ellaria who was panting beside them, surrounded by the feathers that had been ripped from the pillows only a few moments prior.

“You are a force of nature, my moonlight.”

“A storm to behold,” Ellaria whispered, sliding closer to also steal a kiss between their lips.

Y/N smiled against his mouth and tugged at the mussed ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. “And you two helped unleash me unto the world. And now there will be two more.”

Ellaria and Oberyn’s matching smiles took her breath away again for the umpteenth time that day as they gazed down at her. “And the world is theirs for the taking.”

Y/N knew the birth would be painful. She knew it could last days. Maesters and septas and midwives had all tried to tell her what this would entail—but nothing had prepared her for the frantic pacing of Oberyn or the gentle guidance of Ellaria as she sat at her side.

“You are nearly there, my love, I know it,” Ellaria cooed, pushing the sweat-soaked hair away from her forehead. “You can do it.”

She screamed with the last few pushes, hearing her blood roar in her ears and then…

“A girl!” Daisy said—it was quickly followed by, “and a boy!”

“A boy?” Y/N asked, head swimming. She has not thought of the possibility of a boy. Oberyn always seemed to have girls—girls is what she had been expecting. Not a boy. A son.

For a moment, Y/N panicked.

But she looked at Oberyn as Daisy handed him his son and his face split into a smile, she knew she should have never doubted his love for his children—even for a second. “A boy. How you keep surprising me, my moonlight.”

Her eyes drifted to Ellaria to see her cradling her baby girl with the same sweet smile even as the babe screamed and squirmed. “They are beautiful, my love,” Ellaria said softly. “Healthy.”

“That’s all I wanted,” Y/N said, feeling the midwife finish her duties before gently taking the twins from Oberyn and Ellaria and handing them to Y/N, propping her up against a mound of pillows and then quietly excusing herself for a moment. Y/N cradled both babes to her chest, letting them press their round little cheeks to her skin as they opened their little mouths in matching yawns, tried from their journey into the world.

“They need names, my moonlight.”

“And they shall have them—but let me just look at them for a little longer.”

“Lewyn! Rohanne!”

“Coming mama!” Came the answering chorus from the orange groves.

Nearly five years had passed since she had brought the smallest Martells into the world. Five wondrous, exhausting years filled with tears, laughter, and change.

The children called both Y/N and Ellaria ‘mama’ and Oberyn ‘papa.” Harmen Uller was their grandfather who spoiled them rotten, just as he did with Elia, Obella, Dorea, and Loreza. The twins’ older sisters were also fond of making sure they had everything and anything their little hearts desired while Doran and Trystane doted on them as well. Gryves had taken to sleeping between their beds, a quiet sentinel who would often wake them up with licks to their tiny feet as the sun started to rise if he was not tucked away in Dorea or Loreza's rooms.

Patrek had come to Dorne to formally court Obara, much to her amused chagrin. They were married in a small ceremony and spent their time at Sunspear until the last vestiges of Winter had thoroughly melted—and promised they would return if there was even a brisk wind.

Tyene and Nymeria found themselves invited to be part of Daenerys’ court in Essos, as part of the growing alliance between Westeros and her Empire. They wrote often and both seemed to have cultivated their own little kingdom there too, filled with beautiful men and women who loved to keep their ladies happy and who helped them rule over Qarth in Daenerys’ name.

Sarella quickly became a powerful advisor at court in King’s Landing and had been named Mistress of Whispers on the Small Council for Robb and Margaery’s rule. Elia continued to train alongside her family’s guards and had even started competing in tourneys and unseating seasoned knights with her trusted lance. Oberyn and Ellaria always cheered the loudest when she was victorious. Obella took advantage of Robb allowing women to attend the Citadel and forged four links before, like her father, grew bored and then took the Dornish seat on the Small Council which Sarella had vacated. Dorea and Loreza were still managing to evade their septa and maesters during their lessons but mostly behaved themselves, maturing more each day.

Daisy and Daemon had welcomed a little boy just a few moons ago and the happy, little family had taken to resting in their manse for a few weeks to enjoy the new babe. Sansa had recently married to a Northern lord and had welcomed Arya and Gendry back to Winterfell--along with their daughter. Robb and Margaery had recently celebrated their daughter's second birthday and announced that another heir was on the way to the delight of the realm.

Two little bodies slammed into Y/N’s legs and nearly leveled her, four tiny arms wrapping around her thighs and tangling with the ruby red fabric of her dress. Matching dark brown eyes stared up at her, sparkling in the sunlight—just like their father’s did. Both of them had streaks of blood orange juices across their cherubic cheeks and were probably staining her skirts, too.

“I thought we promised to not sneak more oranges before meals, hm?” Y/N asked, wiping away a little bit from their skin.

Gryves trotted up behind them, looking proud with a large stick between his teeth.

“Well, Gryves went into the orchards, mama!” Rohanne said, plump bottom lip jutting out—a face she knew would allow her to get away with murder with her father. “We had to follow him to make sure he was safe.”

“Last time, he almost fell in the pool,” Lewyn said, trying to bolster his sister’s argument.

“He knows how to swim, my love. Better than you.”

The twins looked at each other for a moment and then back up at their mother. “Do you want an orange?” Rohanne stuck her little hand into the folds of her dress and produced a blood orange nearly as big as her head like a peace offering. “We saved this one for you.”

Y/N took it with a smile and bent to give each of them a kiss on a sticky cheek. “No lemon cakes tonight after supper.”

“But mama!” They cried.

“You two already had something sweet. You know the rules.” Y/N saw Rohanne starting to plot an argument but Lewyn nudged her and shook his head. He was the quieter of the two, happy to follow his sister’s lead in most situations but also knew when to play the long game, knowing how to pick his imaginary battles when Rohanne wanted to pick all of them. They were quite the pair—and Y/N would not change them for all the gold in the world.

“My little vipers!” Oberyn suddenly swooped in and hauled the twins into his hold kissing all over their cheeks as they squealed and giggled before pausing. “You taste of blood oranges.”

“Sneaking sweets again?” Ellaria laughed as she stepped to Y/N’s side and kissing her softly.

“They taste good, mama!” Rohanne said with another pout, turning in her father’s grip to look at Ellaria.

“I know they do, my love. But you eat too many and turn your stomach. There are rules for a reason.”

“I told you they would notice,” Lewyn murmured, dark eyes cutting to his twin.

Oberyn laughed and kissed them both on the cheek again before bending to let them down. “Go wash up before supper.”

“Yes, papa!” They chimed before dashing away.

The three watched them go, unknowing matching smiles on their faces. “They are going to be such a handful when they’re older.”

“I have no doubt they’ll follow in our footsteps.”

Ellaria chuckled and kissed Oberyn and Y/N’s cheeks. “We have a great many adventures ahead of us still, my loves. But first we have to get them to eat dinner.”

And the three slowly walked back toward the palace, listening to their children's laughter ring in the air.

A/N: And that’s all she wrote, folks! Please let me know what you think!

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell x ellaria sand x reader #game of thrones imagine #oberyn martell x ellaria sand

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joonie-beanie · 4 years

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I AM ASKING. I AM ASKING IN STRONG. Who and when and reactions and all the dets you're willing to surrender -makes grabby hands- plz and ty alkjgkjs. feed this rumour its flesh - doeses anon

LMAOOOOO

So.��

Lucifer:

If Bean is sending a lewd to Lucifer, usually she does so whenever he’s too busy, and away from home, and she’s frustrated about it. So, she’ll go into his room, shed her clothes, and take a selfie while tucked under the sheets of his bed--with just the right amount of tiddy showing.

“I miss you. Stop working so hard :((”

If Lucifer actually responds to her, then it’s likely he really can’t be pulled away from his work. However, if he doesn’t respond, and Bean sees that her message has been read, well then. She stays snuggled in his bed until the door to his room opens, and he’s suddenly on top of her--stealing kisses from her. Sometimes he just sighs and undresses and holds her as they both sleep. But other times...you know ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Mammon:

Ass. Just....ass.

I mentioned this in the sex HC’s but Mammon is p weak for her ass. So, if she feels like teasing him out of the blue (literally, she makes a point of only sending him lewd pics when he’s not asking for them), she’ll likely send a picture of her ass. Usually in some cute underwear.

She tends to send the picture, and just the picture. Simply waits for Mammon to see the message. And when he does--

“OI!! Ya can’t just text me that shit without warning!! What if someone else saw?!”

“...are ya in your room rn?”

“I’m coming to your room. Don’t go anywhere.”

Levi:

He’s weak for her thighs, and upskirt shots so...sometimes, Bean will just take a picture from the back, with her skirt conveniently flipped up. If she really wants to kill him, she’ll put on some thigh-highs in place of her usual leggings too.

When she sends the picture, usually she’ll send the cute sticker of the demon winking (you know the one). And when Levi sees it, he pretty much blue screens. His brain is full of only keyboard smashes.

“AJKHSLDJKALSDJKASDALKDJASK”

Cannot believe that some is actually sending him a lewd picture. He definitely accidentally gets hard each time.

Satan:

Out of all the brothers, Satan is the least reactive to lewd photos, so Bean doesn’t bother sending them to him often. But if she does, it’s usually a selfie with a cat filter, and her eating something phallic shaped. Like a banana, or a popsicle.

Basically, she tries to use his weaknesses (or kinks, rather) against him. To get his mind thinking of dirty things.

“Oh? How cute.”

“Is this your way of asking for more training? 😇”

Please note that the angel emoji is just a farce.

Asmodeus:

Asmo honestly has the habit of randomly gifting her lingerie, so whenever she feels like dressing up, and playing around, she’ll send him a mirror selfie or her in one of the sets he has given her.

Of course, Asmo is always very vocal about how much he enjoys her pictures.

“Look at you!!! Oh my gosh! I knew you would look stunning in that color!”

“Please send me more~ I want to see you from all angles~”

“Or, if you want, you could just come to my room and show me in person 😘”

Beel:

Honesly, Beel would be happy with any lewd Bean sends to him, but more often than not, she decides to send him pictures of herself in his clothing. Ya know, her in one of his t-shirts, with the hem pulled up to reveal a bit of her curves. Or with the shirt pulled tight against her chest in a reverse-v--creating a bit of cleavage to show.

The fact that she looks so cute and delicious while dressed in his clothing is honestly such a turn on to Beel.

“Can I come to your room?”

“I’m hungry now.”

Belphie:

Bean tends to wear short shorts to sleep, and sometimes she’ll send Belphie a picture of the shorts, but like...hiked up a bit, to reveal a good amount of cheek. In particular, she has a pair of cow print shorts, and she sends those to him the most (for obvious reasons).

Belphie, of course, finds it both endearing and sexy.

“Oh, it’s my favorite pillow.”

“Now that you’ve shown me, I want to hold it.”

“I’ll be to your room soon.”

#Bean #om!#obey me #obey me mc

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creepy-bi-day · 3 years

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I'm here to cherish your great writing and ask for a match-up 😆😊

My appearance: I'm about 5'4 and im pear shaped, I have hazel eyes, and strawberry/ blond/brown hair (I dye it a lot the last color I had was red and when I was going back to my normal color it left a pinkish red undertone to it), I'm ghostly pale, I have slight bit of freckles on my cheeks, I'm a tad bit chubby but oh well that just make me soft to hug, you'll usually catch me in a tye dye jacket with peace signs on it

My personality: I'm known to be subtly chaotic, I make jokes at the worst times and sometimes they can be mean without me meaning to be mean, I lack a filter so I can sometimes be to straightforward, im imaginative I express things through either music writing or art, i love animals more the people most of the time, im very stubborn, I can either be the mom friend or the friend that's feral, im not the best with words I usually show my feelings through actions

My likes: I love tarot, I'm into astrology (im a libra/scorpio cusp), I love animals I have a pet hedgehog, I enjoy doing art, I love music (est 40s through 90s music), I like musicals, I enjoy dancing with a partner (I only really know how to waltz but I like it), i love naps especially when its raining, I like neck kisses, I enjoy cuddling, im a theater kid so I also love acting

My dislikes: i hate being ignored, drunks, my anxiety disorder, a lot of food I have a sensory problem so a lot of different foods freak me out, out of nowhere calls, when someone tests me

Sexuality: im pansexual but I lean more towards men and I'm open minded so im not opposed to polyamorous relationships as long as its close-knit (as in we all love each other not just us loving one person)

Extra: my dream date is being at a gas station at 2 AM in the morning sitting in the corner drinking slushies and having deep discussions. I have ADD, generalized anxiety disorder and depression. I'm a bit obsessive and possesvie due to being from a divorced family (dad cheated on mom ect.). Im definitely a switch in bed. I'm not energetic but I enjoy energetic peoples company. I'm known to have a bit of a hipster aesthetic.

Cusp buddies!! I’m a Sagittarius/Capricorn cusp!! Sun Sag, Moon Capricorn, and my Rising is Scorpio— Oop.

I ship you with:

Tim/Masky!

SFW:

Heads up: Masky and Tim are different people

Tim loves how light you are, in personality

You’re so different from him, and its why he calls you sunshine and his sweetheart

You’re a bit much for him sometimes, but hes just glad it brings him out of his comfort zone, which he really appreciates.

He plays guitar, so like. He’ll sing to you and write songs, usually strumming while he watches you draw

Teach him how to dance plz, hes super awkward.

Likes touching you but is awkward at first and needs an excuse

He loves cuddling. So much. He likes to cuddle with his arms draped around your side while he cuddles you close from behind

Big fan of spooning cause somft

Will probably telll you everything you need to figure out his birth chart just to see you excited.

Loves late night dates, especially just random walks around town

He loves seeing you smile, and constantly brings back little things he finds at gas stations that he thinks you’ll like

Masky, on the other hand

Is possessive and grabby

He likes cuddling forcibly, and will hold you borderline hostage while laying down because he wants to be near you

V blunt. Doesn’t care. He will tell you what hes thinking so, like, you never need to worry about that.

Brings back random shit h e finds from missions and gifts them to you

Once brought you a pretty constellation necklace, it ended up being the Libra constellation and he got to see you super happy

Doesn’t talk much, but when he does please listen

You’re one of the few people he doesn’t get tired of hearing vent or rant, but please dont ignore him. He won’t ignore you, but he’ll listen quietly

NSFW

Tim is def a switch

He’s shy and submissive when hes awkward

Tends to bottom the first couple times yall have sex

Totally a service sub. Just use him please

When hes domming???

He’s a brat tamer and takes a SHIT ton of joy in making you cry for him and making you whine

Aww, his little prinx wants to cum? Beg him more for it.

Loves choking, both giving and receiving

Likes fucking you in front of people to make sure they know you’re his

He is a MASTER with his tongue

Masky is NOT a switch

He’s a very very primal dom

Doesn’t talk much normally, but during sex hes even less verbal, mostly just grunting and groaning your name in your ear

Like Tim, hes very into choking, just don’t choke him plz. He will bite.

Speaking of biting, he loves to leave marks all over your body, making sure you can see them no matter what you’re wearing.

Very possessive, and will NOT have sex where people can see.

You’re his, and only his. Only person he’s sharing with is Tim, and they share a body so its fine.

Makes sure to lock the door, and knows how to roll his hips just right to brush against that spot that has you screaming-

Overall: Both good boys

#day talks #tim wright #masky #lems #lemons #lemon #lemony #matchups #matchup

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jamielea81 · 4 years

Text

Conversations

Chapter 9

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Slightly NSFW - nothing graphic, but 18+ only please. Also cursing per the usu and fluff!

Word Count: 5,000

A/N: I know nothing about the lives of the Evans family and mean no harm. This is purely fiction and for fun. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! The tag list is now closed. Each chapter tends to get reblogged from me a few times, so if you’re following me, you can’t miss it.

*Italics are internal thoughts

Catch up with chapter 8

****

With worn leather carry-on bag in hand, you made your way to the pickup area of the airport. Since you were only staying for two nights, you found no need to check a bag. Granted your carry-on was stuffed to capacity. You needed options. It’s summer in New York and it’s hot. You packed a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, a dress, two blouses, two shoe options besides the ones you were wearing, two new bra and panty sets because, well, we all know why, and a new pajama shorts and t-shirt set. You were currently dressed in jeans, a green V-neck tee, and flats. Depending on what Chris’ plans were, you’d change.

You spotted the driver easy enough. He was lined up with a dozen others, but he held up a white page of printer paper with your last name in big black letters going across it.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“That’s me,” you said with a smile.

“I’m John and will be your driver today. Allow me to take your bag.” John’s hand extended and you quickly passed the bag to him.

Following behind him to a parking garage, the two of you made your way to waiting black Town Car. He opened the backseat door for you to get in and promptly shut it before placing your bag in the trunk.

“Your hotel is quite nice. It over looks the park,” John said, looking at you in the rear view mirror as he drove.

You smiled and nodded in return. You had been to New York once, but that was years ago and your hotel was situated nowhere near Central Park.

Pulling up to the Park Lane Hotel, John quickly got out of the vehicle while one of the doormen opened your door.

“Checking in?” the man asked.

“Actually, she’s meeting another party who has already checked in,” John replied. “Would you like to take your own bag or do you require assistance?”

Reaching for your bag, you took it from John’s hands. “I think I can handle it. But thank you.”

“Here is your room key as well as the room number. I hope you enjoy your trip,” John said, handing you a crisp white envelope.

“Thank you, John,” you said.

Despite being on the forty sixth floor, the elevator ride was quite quick. Finding room 4630 was another story. The floor was a maze of rooms. Even with various signs posted to the walls with room numbers listed pointing in all directions, you still struggled to find the correct hall. You were sweating and regretting not accepting the assistance that was offered for your measly carry-on bag.

Reaching the correct room, you took a breath and knocked. After a reasonable amount of time, you knocked again. Yes, you had a room key, but Chris had already checked in and you didn’t want to barge in. He could have someone in the room with him or he could be coming out of the shower. Well that second scenario wouldn’t be so bad to walk in on.

Mind out of the gutter, Y/N.

With no answer, you leaned your ear against the door but didn’t hear a peep.

“This is silly,” you said out loud.

Grabbing the room key from the envelope, you touched it to the door, making the reader flash green. Opening the door, you could see the hall light was on, but the rest of the room was dark.

“Chris?” you called out.

With no reply, you proceeded into the room, flicking the switch just past the hallway that opened into a sitting type room. With lights on, you could now see the room was more of a two-room suite. The room you walked into had a cream colored couch and two upholstered light blue chairs as well as a dark stained dining table with four chairs. The floor to ceiling curtains were closed, so even with the light on, the room was very dim. Dropping your bag to the floor, you walked to the window, pulling one panel of the curtain across and then proceeding to pull the second. Light filtered into the room, but your eyes were locked to the view. Central Park laid before you in all its lush green glory. From the forty sixth floor, you could see the whole park. Not wanting to leave your view, you walked over to the dinning table to grab a chair to drag closer to the window. It’s there that you saw another white envelope with your name across the front. Flipping it over, you pulled the tucked in flap out, and pulled out the small sheet of hotel stationary.

Hi Sweetheart,

I have a couple of meetings this morning, but should be back around 2. If you’re hungry, order whatever you like from room service. When I get back, let’s take a walk through the park and grab dinner.

I’m sorry I’m not there to greet you, but I’m so happy you are here.

See you soon.

Chris

Your tummy fluttered at his words. It was becoming a more common sensation for you.

It was almost noon and lunch sounded like a solid plan. Grabbing the room service booklet from the side table next to the couch, you sat down and relaxed into probably one of the nicest pieces of furniture you have ever had the pleasure of sitting in. Usually hotel furniture was built to last which often meant it was hard. This couch was plush. You made a mental note not to eat while sitting on it.

With your stomach full from the sandwich and side of kettle chips you ordered, you decided to check out the rest of the suite. The doors to the bedroom were opened to reveal a pristine four poster bed. You had to bite back that urge to jump on to it. It was just to pretty to mess up. An over sized dresser tucked against the wall in front of the bed had a large flat screen television mounted to the wall above it. The bathroom and a large walk-in closet were within the bedroom. Taking a quick look in the closet, you see that Chris has neatly hung his things and stored his bag. Deciding that after taking a look in the bathroom, you’d do the same, especially since everything was stuffed into your bag. The bathroom is rather large with a glass shower and large soaking tub. Four glass jars full of various bath salts and scents line the vanity. You’re really tempted to take a bath, but Chris would be coming back soon.

You head back into the living room and let yourself fall onto the couch, grabbing the remote from the coffee table before you lay back. Despite it being the end of June, Home Alone 2 is on. Since it takes place in New York, you keep it on and distract yourself until you get to see Chris again.

“Sweetheart.” There’s a gentle hand sweeping across your forehead. “Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.”

Your eyes flutter open to a glorious sunset. Well, it’s not the sunset exactly, it’s Chris Evans which is close enough. He’s bathed in orange and pink hues from the floor to ceiling window displaying the last of the day’s sun.

“There she is,” he coos, hand moving down to your cheek.

“Hi,” you whisper. “What time is it?”

“It’s late. Well, later than I wanted to get back. It’s almost eight thirty.” He’s kneeling on the carpet in front of you, the back of one of his hands resting on your cheek.

Your eyes open wide. “Eight thirty? I didn’t think I was that tired. I can’t believe I slept for so long.”

Chris chuckles and shakes his head slightly. “Why are you so tired beautiful?”

You feel the heat instantly rise to your cheeks and you wonder if he can feel it. You bite your bottom lip, turning the corners of your mouth up.

“Well, I had trouble sleeping last night. And maybe, just maybe, it’s because a tiny part of me was nervous to see you.”

“Is that so?” He’s grinning now, eyes crinkling and you’re just wishing he would lean in the twelve inches that separates your faces.

“M’fraid so. Apparently, you have that effect on me,” you said softly.

Then it happens. His nose brushes against yours as his warm breath cascades down to your lips. His bottom lip catches your top and he holds it there. Soft and still and you have the urge to pull him closer. Slowly his lips begin to move in tandem with yours, as you struggle to remember to breathe. Your tongue peeks out a slightly and you feel him smile against your mouth before reciprocating the action. Both of his hands have made their way to your face, holding you still while your mouths do the work. Fingers work their way up from his biceps, lightly scratching the back of his neck, and then finely running through his soft locks. Chris lets out a small moan and you mentally lock that bit of information away. He pulls back slightly kissing you once, and then twice before rubbing his nose against yours. You’re breathing softly, but it’s heavy.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, voice dry and deep.

“Me too,” you reply, sitting up slightly to peck his lips.

He smiles a big closed mouth dopey grin that you can’t help returning.

It’s completely dark before the two of you venture out of your suite. Chris has changed from the button down and slacks to jeans and a gray graphic tee from some tech brand you haven’t heard of before.

Dinner is enjoyed in the Park Room Restaurant housed within the comfort of the hotel. Neither of you wanting to travel far, especially you, still in that “I just woke up from a nap and had the breath kissed out of me” mood. Since it’s late, the restaurant is quiet. The staff seats you in the back, away from most prying eyes.

“It’s not so bad here, in New York, I mean. There’s lots of actors and musicians that live here, so people get pretty used to seeing ‘em. You still get paps, but it’s not as bad as L.A.”

You nod your head in understanding. “A little more freeing I bet.”

Chris nods this time. “In Mass, it’s even easier. Hardly ever get filmed there. It’s just…easy there. I’d like to spend more time there. My house is having some remodeling done, but I’d like to be there close to full time before next year.”

The server stops by, delivering your entrees to the table. Everything is pretty on the plate. Three different colored sauces create a beautiful summer palette to the eyes. If the restaurant wasn’t so dim lighted, you’d take a picture with your phone. Chris needed to learn how cheesy you are.

“How does that work, work wise? If you’re in Boston, are you having to fly off somewhere each week?”

Chris covers his mouth with his hand as he’s still chewing. You let out an abrupt laugh. “Sometimes, most stuff is handled by my manager or agent otherwise it’s over the phone.” He lowers his hand and continues. “So, unless I’m working, I’m just home.”

“Well, I’m glad. You need time to just chill. Scott says you tend to stress yourself out a little.” Chris smiles but shakes his head. “What?! I’m sure he tells you stuff about me.”

“Maybe,” he said coyly.

“Maybe.” You shake your head. “You Boston boys.”

“Boston boys. Well, I’m pretty sure you like Boston boys.”

He’s so cocky but he pulls it off because of that damn charming smile.

Chris takes your hand and brings it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it.

“Yeah, I do,” you mumble out.

The bed in the room is every bit of heaven you imagined it would be. Layer upon layer of cotton goodness line the already soft mattress. The two of you are laying side by side in your pajamas watching old episodes of The Office on cable. Chris is dressed in a plain white t-shirt with flannel black and red pajama pants that you’re pretty sure he’s wearing for your benefit. Your face is sans makeup which had you feeling a bit uncomfortable at first until Chris told you that you looked beautiful. He has a way of always making you feel that way.

“I think you should direct the Michael Scarn movie,” you said bluntly, turning to face him.

Chris lets out loud chuckle.

“Really?” he says slowly. “Is that right? You think it’s ready for the big screen?” he asked between laughs.

“Well, I feel like it’s a story that can touch all audiences. However, it’s real think piece that relates to today’s youths,” you replied.

“Anyone ever tell you that you should go into politics? Your mouth is very influential.”

“My mouth, huh?” you asked with a smirk.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow kiss. Chris’ arm wrapped around you, pulling you to him so that your chest was pressed against his. While the kiss was slow, your heart rate certainly was not. He was letting you take charge by allowing you to set the speed. You licked into his mouth earning a groan from him that only urged you on. The kiss broke while you moved to straddle him. Leaning forward you kissed his lips, his chin, then his neck. Chris took ahold of your face, bringing your lips back to his. His other hand went to the back of your head as he held you in place, taking control once again. He slowed down the pace, kissing you soft and slow while still keeping that firm grasp on the back of your head. Chris sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, eliciting a moan from you. You ground down on him, causing him to release your lip. He kissed you chastely before pushing his forehead against yours. The two of you pressed together breathing heavy.

“I think we should maybe slow it down,” Chris said softly.

You nodded your head as you eased yourself off of him. Really, you wanted to do anything but slow it down. For once you knew exactly what you wanted, but just by him saying he wanted to slow down, you went right back to doubting everything once again. Now you were completely turned on with no outlet.

Once again you were side by side, both sets of eyes on the TV watching Jim and Dwight bicker.

“So, Threat Level Midnight, huh?” he asked.

You gasped out a laugh, swatting his chest with the back of your hand. “Dork.”

“Back to that are we?” he asked.

“Watch the show,” you said, bumping your elbow against his arm.

Like a cliché scene from a movie, you woke to the sun filtering through a part of the curtains that didn’t quite close and something, or rather someone poking your backside. Who were you to complain? Chris held you close, his soft breath warming your neck. You started to gently play with his fingers that hugged your middle. It was one of the things you never paid much attention to. You felt like you knew his voice inside and out. His eyes and smile were set to memory from all of your Facetime sessions over the last month or so. But his hands were a work of art in their own right.

“What are you doin’? he mumbled into your hair.

It was a good thing he wasn’t facing you because there was no doubt, he would see the embarrassment in your face.

“I’m just trying to hold your hand?” you said with a shrug.

“Okay Sassy.” He kissed your shoulder. “C’mere.”

You turn to face him and he immediately pulls you close, kissing your forehead and then the top of your head.

“I have a meeting at eleven, but I won’t be long. Nothing like yesterday. We’ll actually make it to the park today,” he laughs out.

“Sounds good to me,” you said as you buried your face into his chest.

Central Park was larger than you remembered it. The two of you had been walking for over an hour, just taking in greenery. Chris had a ballcap on his head and shades on his face. To your surprise, no one had approached him. Sure, there could be photographers following you both, but you didn’t see them and Chris seemed relaxed. Not long after you reached the park, he reached for your hand and hadn’t let go.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Chris asked.

You pulled him to a bench and sat down, him raising his eyebrows at you before taking a seat. He took your hand again, resting it on his knee.

“Honestly, I’m up for anything. I’m just happy we were able to meet up.”

Chris released your hand, putting his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer. He hummed and then kissed your temple.

“Is it too soon to ask when I can see you again?” he asked.

You turned your head to face him. He had a smile on his face and you wished in that moment you could see his eyes.

“Never,” you whispered.

Chris scoffed and it made you pull back, wondering what was wrong.

“You never want to see me?” he said with mock hurt.

“God, you’re a brat.” You shook your head and bumped him with your shoulder. “You know that’s not what I meant! I said it’s never too soon to ask to see me again.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder again and pulled you to him so that you were almost embracing in a hug.

“Oh! Is that what you meant?” A teasing tone in his voice.

“You know damn well,” you responded back, pouting your lips even though he couldn’t see you.

Chris’ face was close to yours and for a moment you thought he was going to lean in to kiss you, but he pulled back a bit and kissed your temple again instead.

Dinner was spent at Sarabeth’s Central Park South. Neither of you had eaten there before but it was conveniently located near the hotel and had great reviews. You changed into the green shift dress you packed, pairing it with a heeled leather sandal. Chris dressed in jeans and light blue button-down shirt. The color made his eyes pop, but really what didn’t?

“So, what’s the next project you have coming up?” you asked.

Chris had finished filming the new Apple TV series but was mum on the plot. It wasn’t set to air for several months and it hadn’t been promoted yet.

“Not a lot, least not for a while.”

You beamed at his response. If Chris’ schedule wasn’t packed, perhaps he’d have time for you.

“Maybe a trip to Orlando in your future?”

You hoped there wasn’t any desperation in your voice.

“Perhaps. There’s a woman I know that lives there. And I kind of like her,” he said, voice low to keep the conversation between you two.

“Kind of? Orrrrr?” you asked.

Reel it back, Y/N.

Chris chewed on his lip and kept you waiting for a few seconds longer than you would have liked.

“I really like you sweetheart. You’re important to me and I want to make the most of our time together. This little getaway isn’t the last by a long shot.”

You gulped and you know he saw it, but that didn’t matter. You reached across the table and took his hand in yours, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb.

“You’re important to me too and I wish we hadn’t wasted so much time.”

“Can’t think about it that way. This happened when it was meant to happen and I’m enjoying getting to know you in this new way,” he replied.

You smiled at his words and nodded your head in agreement.

You plopped down in the bed, letting out a groan.

Chris chuckled from across the room at your display.

“Not even going to change into your PJs?”

“Would you laugh if I said my feet hurt and I really don’t want to get up again?” you asked.

Chris walked to the side of the bed, sticking his hand out.

“Give me your foot. I’ll take your shoes off.”

Heat instantly flooded your face and neck, but you obliged offering him one foot and then the other. Once both were off, you lowered your legs back to the bed and looked up to see a Chris with an easy-going smile. He moved to sit next to your laying body, you scooting over to give him room. Chris turned on his side facing you, using his elbow to support his head.

“Hi,” you said softly.

“Hi beautiful,” he replied just as soft.

His warm hand met your bare knee, playing with the hem of your dress lightly with his fingers. Each second he grew more adventurous as he eased his hand further past the hem. Your hand reached out to his neck as your fingers swept through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. It was your silent gesture that this soft moment between the two of you was fine.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips with his as his hand slipped up your thigh till it reached the lace of your panties. Goosebumps erupted down your body and you had no doubt he could feel them on your thigh. Your other hand instinctively went to his chest. Slowly you lowered it down to his waist until you reached his belt. You pulled on it, never parting from the kiss until you felt it loosen.

Chris pulled back and your stomach dropped, worried he going to suggest that the two slow down.

“I want to make you feel good,” he whispered against your lips. The hand disappeared from under your dress to grab your own. He brought it to his lips before placing it on your stomach. “Is that alright?”

Your lips quirked up into a small smile. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Chris’ hand found your bare skin again, slowly sliding up your thigh until he reached your panties. His lips were back on yours as he pulled them to the side and his fingers began to caress you.

Waking up to a boxer clad Chris in your bed was not a bad way to wake up. Your only regret was that you were leaving today. Grabbing your phone off the night stand, you checked the time. It was nine in the morning and you didn’t have to leave for the airport until around one.

“Why are you awake?” came Chris’ groggy voice.

“I have to leave today,” you pouted, tossing your phone to the side. You slid closer to him, curling up against his side, fingers drawing circles on his hairy chest.

“I know, baby, but we still have some time. Let’s just stay in bed until it’s time to head to the airport,” he offered.

Chris wasn’t flying home, but he insisted on going with you to the airport. He’d be in New York for one more night. Too bad you had to be in the office tomorrow. Really, you could have called in sick or taken another day off, but you really wanted to save that time for future trips, especially now that you felt there would be future trips.

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed into his shoulder.

Chris leaned in to kiss the top of your head before lowering back to the pillow and pulling you closer. After a few minutes, his breathing evened out and you knew he was asleep. You blindly reached for your phone that you haphazardly threw on the mattress. After a few attempts you were able to locate it, quickly setting an alarm for an hour later before setting it next to you and closing your eyes.

This is definitely something I could get used to.

Chris had ordered a later breakfast via room service after your alarm woke the two of you up. He slipped on his jeans from last night as well as a t-shirt much to your disappointment. Of course, you didn’t expect him to answer the door in just his underwear, but you already missed the view.

Chris wheeled the cart into the bedroom, stopping in front of the bed.

“Your breakfast madame,” he said, bowing with one arm held out.

You chuckled at his display as you crawled on your knees to the end of the bed. You were dressed in just a t-shirt and the panties he became quite familiar with last night.

“I think you should take your clothes off,” you said.

“Take my clothes off?” he chuckled out. “I thought you wanted food.”

“I do, but I think you’ll be a lot more comfortable in just your boxers. After all, I’m only in my underwear. It’s only fair, Chris,” you reasoned.

He shook his head, but followed your request and started to strip, much to your delight.

After breakfast in bed and a few shared kisses, you contemplated showering for the day. Showering meant getting out of bed and out of each other’s arms as well as getting dressed. You were content just to stay where you were, and with Chris’ holding you tight, you figured he was too.

Tilting your head up, you rubbed your nose against his, causing Chris to hum.

“This is nice,” you said against his lips.

“It is.”

Bringing your lips to his, you kissed him soft and slowly. Your lips were barely touching, but it felt so much more intimate. Chris’ hand drafted down to your butt, smoothing his hand over it before giving it a squeeze. You chuckled into his neck before bringing your face back up to his. The two of you looked softly into each other’s eyes. You brought your hand up to his chin, letting your fingers drag through his beard.

“I wanna be with you,” you said.

“Yeah?” he asked, understanding the meaning behind your words.

“Yeah. I want you.”

Where this boldness was coming from, you weren’t sure. But in that moment, you wanted him completely.

Chris kissed you hard, pushing you on your back. He lifted the hem of your t-shirt over your breasts and took a hard nipple into his mouth before letting it go. You sat up briefly so that he could pull it off of your head. His lips met yours as you ran your hands down his bare back. He was flailing around a bit and took you a moment to realize he was trying to take off his boxers without breaking your kiss.

You giggled into his mouth and pushed him off you slightly. Chris gave you a worried look that ended as soon as your hands were pulling his boxers the rest of the way down.

“Condoms?” you asked.

You’d been on birth control off and on over the years but had gone back on it when you and Ethan were together. Since you and Chris were barely a thing, you wanted to be safe until you talked about it. To your relief Chris nodded and got off the bed, displaying his bare ass to you.

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” you joked.

Chris kept his backside to you, but looked over his shoulder and gave you a wink. He disappeared into the closet for a minute, returning with a foil packet in his hand. He gave you a big grin and wiggled his eyebrows.

“What?” you asked coyly, smile still on your face.

Before you could ask again, he jumped on the bed, landing on his knees and attacking you with fast moving fingers and lips over your face and neck, leaving you in a fit of giggles.

In the back of John’s Town Car, you were settled close to Chris.

“I have like three text messages from Scott and one missed call,” you said, scrolling through your phone.

“Yeah, I have a few too,” Chris said looking at his phone.

Scott: What are you doin’?

Scott: Did you buy me a souvenir?

Scott: Why aren’t you answering your phone???

Oh Scott.

“I’ll just call him,” you said.

“No, let’s Facetime him,” Chris said, clicking on the contact for Scott on his phone.

Scott’s face appeared a few seconds later.

“You guys are alive! Geez, that only took like three hours.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Chris replied.

“We’re going to the airport,” you said sadly, bottom lip sticking out. Chris kissed your cheek and you immediately dropped the pout.

“Fly to Boston!” Scott shouted.

You shook your head. “Can’t. Work awaits.”

“Fineeee. It’s a standing invitation, so whenever,” he replied.

“That goes for me too,” Chris said, kissing your lips.

“You guys are gross,” Scott said.

“And I don’t even care,” you replied.

“What were you guys doing anyway? Since neither of you answered your phones?” Scott asked, eyebrows raised.

You looked at Chris, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible.

“We were busy. Mind ya business,” Chris replied.

You let out a big laugh and looked away from the camera.

“Busy?” Scott asked. “Interesting. You guys are gross.”

It was Chris’ turn to laugh.

John parked in short term parking so that you and Chris could say goodbye with out a crowd of people and honking cars. He popped the trunk when Chris told him he would help you with your bag.

The two of you stood at the trunk, neither speaking. You pulled him into a hug when you couldn’t find the words to say. Chris kissed your neck and you let out a sigh.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” you mumbled into his neck.

Chris pulled away and kissed your lips.

“We’ll make it work. I promise you. I’m not giving you up. I’m not giving us up,” he said.

You nodded and kissed him.

“We will. I just wish I could see you more often. I feel lucky enough that I just saw you last month.”

Chris pulled you into his arms, kissing your temple. “We’ll come up with a plan. A schedule.”

“Okay,” you said softly. “We’ll make it work.”

A nearly three hour plane ride would be a good time to start to come up with that plan.

Chapter 10

Tag List: @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @heartislubbingdubbing @collinsstanharbour @twittytelly @thefandomzoneisdangerous @linki-locks11 @mywinterwolf @ab-baybay @rda1989 @impalaimages @jesseswartzwelder @rainbowkisses31 @xostephanie @smoothdogsgirl @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xxloki81xx @thenormreedus @firstangeldragonranch @soitmightgetweird @maeleeme @denisemarieangelina @mustangshelby04 @bellaireland1981 @carolina-thiell @straightforwardly @torntaltos @denise1605 @mcuclintasha @southerngracela @iam-cj @trynnabemultifandom @chrisevansforever @kelbabyblue @broadwayandnetflix @kyjey @thevelvetseries @i-just-feel-like @daddieslittlefangirl @hista-girl @stankface @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @whymalu @the-doctors-fallen-angel @mariswritingforfun @tessabb7 @chrisevansfanfic @lakamaa12 @thinkxlovexloud @nea90sweetie @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @greyeyedsmile14 @dangerouslovefanfic @ripvandrinkle @bitterstar88 @andymi3ntus @zestygingergirl @xstudiousslytherinx @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @cocomel0613 @onceuponathreetwoone @supraveng @michelehansel @fanfictionaffair @genesgoingtohamslam @chrisevansforever @agirlcanstilldream @what-is-your-plan-today @jessyballet @capstopavenger @wiczer @titty-teetee

#chris evans #conversations #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #scott evans #Scott Evans x reader #chris evans reader insert #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine

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kirby-the-gorb · 3 years

Text

reply roundup!

highlights: I finally got around to designing a [blanket] on society6, and reshared some [resources] that might hopefully make the tough times a little less scary.

also the disgorb will be shutting down at 9pm PST on December 16th, because running it takes a lot of energy and I need that energy for other things :( to sort-of-replace the disgorb as a more direct way to communicate with me instead of waiting for reply roundups, I’ve made an email address specifically for this blog: [email protected] (not a typo)

readmore for length

on [cold]:

@the-halo-of-my-memory said: that reminds me i need to get a hold of some gloves and a hat before it gets cold again, its suspiciously warm here 👀 kirby needs like a big dumb giant parka bubble coat, idkw but those kinds of coats crack me up. recreate that one scene from cowboy bebop with spike in his dumb jacket lol anyways this was cute as always love seeing the gumdrop on my dash ☺

I feel silly for missing your tags for a couple days but I saw someone else make a similar suggestion anyway! at least it still got to be drawn lol (I should rewatch cowboy bebop, I don’t think my partner has seen it...)

on [blanket]:

@unluckyxse7en said: oh god this would be so soft i can imagine it already

the blankets society6 prints actually are super soft! I intentionally didn’t use my regular fuzzy looking brush for the design because their blankets are so fluffy -u-

@the-halo-of-my-memory said: YES I WANT THIS BLANKET FOR CHRISTMAS

same tho lol someday I will be able to get myself one!

on [sleeby]:

@aggron-rocks said: i would like to hug him

well good news kirby would like to be hugged! works out for everyone lol (someone on the disgorb, I think it was lostscarf, shared a product image of a kirby plush that is also a heating pad, the most huggable thing in the world.......)

on [resources]:

@soimafangirl2341 said: Those coloring pages are so cute omg 🥺 all your arts just awesome and adorable

aww, thank you! I actually had a lot of fun coloring them so I hope other people do too :>

on [study]:

@mimekyo-deactivated1421 said: Image downloaded, very cool post op

hehe thank you! (please remember to credit if you end up using it for anything <3)

@aggron-rocks said: he is concentrating

concentrate! focus! keep steady! (does anyone on earth understand that besides me and my brother?)

on [fort]:

@shyyren said: akdhskdhhd baby's self imposed timeout box

sometimes you just gotta put your own brain in timeout until it’s more cooperative!

on [geometry]: (title courtesy of @seekersqueaker)

@the-halo-of-my-memory said: me when numbers. i cant math like at allllllll. i love his confused face so much

extremely valid. (I was pretty good at math in school but I have definitely forgotten All of it. altho to be fair I only looked up one of those formulas :v )

@goosebytrade said: phenomenal. he's trying to read

this made me laugh out loud, thank you XD

@galacticscrap said: What's he thinking about

if the oven takes 10 minutes to preheat and the prep stage takes 15 minutes, should he preheat the oven first or get the first 5 minutes of prep done, and then the next dish cooks at a higher temperature, should he prep that while the first dish is in the oven, or wait until he can change the temp? then if the first dish is cooling on the stove he’ll only have one burner clear to make the third dish, should he do that while the first dish is in the oven instead? (optimization is complicated!)

from the ask box:

@traceylink said: i will draw kirby this time :)

I hope you have fun!

from finally remembering I can filter notes for mentions now:

thank you very much for the tag on this [positivity] post, @aestheticpaperowl! I think I’ll let my reblobs speak for themselves for some folks I think deserve more attention rather than hopping on the train, but it was very sweet of you!

@your-local-neighbourhood-kat tagged me in this very cute [art] by @yourneighbortoasty (a while ago, whoops <.< ), you are correct that I like it very much and it is absolutely going into my list of blogs to raid for quality reblobs!

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halfwaythereroyalwrites · 4 years

Text

Balikbayan Box (Pietro Maximoff x Filipinx!Reader Kilig One-Shot)

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Filipinx!Reader

Warnings: Cursing. Cheeky flirting. Gets “suggestive” toward the end. Mostly a heartwarming story

Word count: 1,691 words

A/N: I love that writing a Filipina!Reader story allowed me to find more Filipinxs on this platform! Please check out my other stories on my masterlist, and let me know what you think!

Requested by: @princeabomination

Kilig is a Tagalog word to describe the feeling of excitement and exhilaration and possibly embarrassment from anything remotely romantic.

Masterlist

______________________________________

Pietro wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he came home, but he surely didn’t expect for the aggressive squeaky sound of packing tape to greet him instead of your usual chirpy, “Hey babe!” He furrowed his brows at your current task. You were unfolding and taping up two large boxes half your body size. The empty boxes had the name of a Philippine shipping company printed on the side in sizeable bold letters, followed by an addressing line. Scattered all around the living room were numerous, humongous piles of canned goods, coffee creamers, gently used clothes, candy, toiletries, shoes, school supplies, and what Pietro was pretty sure was his partner’s sanity. Your hair was in disarray, your finger subconsciously on your lips — nibbling at your nails — and your face was contorted in worry when scanning the various labeled piles.

Pietro’s voice broke your train of thought. “Darling, are you ok? What is all this?” You shook your head in response.

“I’m sending some stuff home to my family, but I don’t know how this is all going to fit! I knew I should have bought that third box. I’m pretty sure I forgot Tita Maria’s favorite lotion. I don’t think I have enough chocolates for all my pamangkin. Oh shit!” You were glancing around the piles when a logo caught your frenzied attention. You grabbed a polo shirt from a neat, folded pile of clothes. “I think I got the wrong brand of shirts for Tito Eddie! He likes Calvin Klein! Not Ralph Lauren! Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I said I would ship this out by tomorrow, but I got everything wrong, and I…”

“Darling,” Pietro sped over in a blur and gently held your face in between his hands, directing your fraught gaze onto his face. “Breathe.” You tried to take a deep breath, but the breath stuck in your throat, not being able to move past the panicked constriction of your chest. Pietro quickly noticed your struggle, took your hand, and placed it in the middle of his chest. He flattened your palm over his heart and kept your hand pressed there with his own. “Breathe with me, my love. In.” You slowly inhaled in sync with the rise of his chest. “Out.” You let out your breath through pursed lips, following the fall of his chest. “Again.” You both repeated this action until your body visibly relaxed. You stepped closer to Pietro, leaning your forehead against his chest.

“Pietro, I’m so stupid. How am I gonna get this done on time?” you whispered against his chest.

“I could always help you, my love,” he took your face in between his hands and focused your eyes on his. “ Just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it done faster than you can blink. I can even run it over to your family.” His heavy, comforting accent enveloped your worries and made you momentarily forget your near-breakdown earlier. The scent of his cologne coupled with the feel of his calloused fingers running up and down your arm anchored you down to reality. You sighed, shook your head, and muttered.

“I want to do this myself. These are my first balikbayan boxes that I am sending home to my family, and I want it to be special.”

“What are these for anyway?” Pietro repeated his earlier question. You broke out of his embrace and started surveying the piles you have neatly laid out all around the living room.

“When a family member lives overseas, they always send presents, or pasalubong, to their family back home,” you explained. You picked up a couple of canned goods and started arranging them into the bottom of one box. “A balikbayan box shows your family how much you love them. There’s always something for everyone in here, and they take months to ship.” You picked up a pile of children’s clothes and started folding them into the box. You paused, holding up a brightly colored shirt with a popular cartoon character drawn on it. “Opening up balikbayan boxes was a huge family event for me. Everyone gathers in the living room, and they would unpack the box little by little, handing out each person’s individual gift. The boxes always had my favorite chocolates and clothes that no other kids in our barangay could find at the malls. Wearing the clothes and eating the treats that came from abroad was almost like…a message to others…that there is someone outside of the country who loves you so much that they remembered to send you presents.”

Tears were welling up in your eyes as you reminisced. You could picture those mornings vividly. Your mother would wake you up in excitement, saying how the balikbayan box had finally arrived. You would run into the living room to find your father or one of your uncles tearing the layered. brown packing tape open with a knife. Your address would be neatly written on one side while the sender’s address would be written on the other. You imagined the foreign country this box hailed from to be overflowing with the presents it contained. As soon as the box was torn open, you would peer inside and look for your name to be written on one of the tightly packed items. You wanted to dig into the chocolates immediately, but your parents would make you try on the shoes and clothes addressed to you before eating your treats.

“My love, are you ok?” Pietro had encircled his arms around you from behind, pressing his body against yours. You wiped the tear running down your cheek away and nodded your head. You allowed your body to melt into Pietro’s. The warmth of his body alleviating the tightness you unconsciously held in between your shoulders. Pietro began peppering the side of your face with small kisses, pointedly kissing the trail your tear left behind. He gripped your hips and spun you around to face him. He laid his forehead against yours, noses touching. His hands rested on the sides of your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks. His lips ghosted over yours as he whispered, “You let me know if you need anything, my love. Say the word, and I’ll do it for you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours.

“What did I do to deserve you, Pietro?” you wondered aloud. Pietro took both of your hands to his lips and placed a kiss on each one before holding your hands against his chest.

“You have my heart, darling.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before leaning into your ear. His voice are deeper as he whispered the next words. “You know what else you have?”

“No, what?” you answered, confused. He softly took a hold of your wrist and led it down toward the direction of his crotch. Before your hand even touched his groin, you snatched your hand out of his wrist and smacked his chest.

“You idiot!” you laughed in disbelief.

“There’s that beautiful smile! I was only joking, my love” Pietro chuckled at your incredulous reaction. “…unless?” he cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

“No! Get out of here! I need to finish this.” you waved him away but not before Pietro sneaked one last kiss on your lips and a cheeky slap on your ass. He walked over to the bedroom, and you got to work on packing up the boxes. The only indication time was passing was the changing colors against the walls, courtesy of the light shining through the windows. When you first began, the light filtering through the windows and hitting your walls had been a bright white, nearly blinding in its luminance. As the day went on, the light became less blinding and more vibrant — shifting back and forth from hues of golden yellow and orange for a few hours before turning into the softer white of moonlight coupled with the orange tint of the streetlight flickering outside. The sound of crickets could be heard from the window by the time you finished packing. You dragged the boxes over to one corner of the living room before plopping down onto the couch, celebrating your victory.

You had your eyes closed when you heard the bedroom door creak open to reveal a shirtless Pietro in gray sweatpants. His chiseled figure made its way onto the couch and sat next to you. He turned his head to glance at you and asked “So is everything done?”

“Yup.” you popped your p at the end, continuing to keep your eyes closed, oblivious to the Adonis of a man seated next to you.

“Good. You need rest, darling. Come to bed.” Pietro squeezed your thigh, the movement prompting you to open your eyes and gaze sideways at his shirtless body casually laid back against the couch.

“Thank you for everything today, babe. I really appreciate you knowing how much this meant to me.”

“Of course, my love.” his husky voice had dropped down an octave, making his accent thicker and his voice deeper. He held your cheek in one hand, staring into your eyes as his thumb drew back and forth against your cheek. He rose from the couch to stand in front of your seated figure, holding out a hand for you to take. “Let’s go to bed.”

You scooted your body forward and peered up at him through your eyelashes. Your hands traveled up and down his thighs, slowly and suggestively. “I wanted to thank you…properly.”

“…but you already did.”

You sighed at his obliviousness. Without saying a word and keeping your gaze locked on his confused eyes, you got down on your knees in front of him while slowly undoing the knotted drawstrings on his sweatpants. You lightly traced the V that led down to his groin and placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on his lower stomach. You grabbed his hand and placed it in your hair and proceeded to pull down his sweatpants and underwear. Pietro’s eyes, meanwhile, went from confused to wide-eyed realization.

“oh…OH!”

______________________________________

A/N: Feel free to message me if you have any comments, request, or would like to be added to my taglist!

taglist: @multifandomlife22 @thottiewinemom @princeabomination

If you want more Filipina!Reader fics: @self-proclaimed-chaotic-good and @propertyofpoeandbucky have some great ones and inspired me to write these. Thank you so much y’all! I didn’t even realize I never saw myself in fics until I read yours, and it meant so much to me

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 16

It was hard to take his eyes off the contraption attached to his wrist.

The Hi-Def was a tiny computer that was held to him with a comfortable canvas and leather wristband; the screen was two inches square, sleek and shiny, and edged with a polished steel casing. The device had two small buttons on one side but, as Eli was demonstrating, the majority of the computer's functions were controlled either by touching the screen, poking at the hard light projection that came from the screen, or using voice commands. So far the only button function he knew how to set whether the device operated exclusively with screen-touched commands, hard light commands, voice only, or any combination of any of them; that had been the first thing Eli had taught them, even before they'd finished the elevator ride down.

They were now all gathered within the facility, standing together around a computer console on what they considered the "ground" floor (which was the bottom-most floor the main access elevator could reach) and on the monitor was a larger image of the Hi-Def's screen. Eli was frequently switching between projecting out of her own Hi-Def and using the computer monitor, depending on what she was instructing them to do - it was a lot easier for them to see on the larger monitor than it was in the projection without crowding one another. ((Continued below cut))

"So here," Eli said, gesturing with her free hand at the monitor, "is the communications panel. You can set up a quick-response voice command to open it without needing to manually navigate here in the same area for all the other voice commands I showed you earlier. It's fairly self explanatory on this landing page -- you can see the list of Hi-Defs in range here. I've already programmed in the "names" of your Hi-Defs, using your names, to make it easier."

Asher looked down the list and could see his name along with Eli, Arlo, Sam, Remington, Adam, Mali, and Gale's name was there as well (though Gale wasn't presently in the room with them - his name was outlined in bright red). There seemed to be loads more empty spaces left but he knew Eli had only made nine of these so far...she must have thought ahead and programmed with the intent of making more in the future. Neat.

"I've set it so, by default, it'll always broadcast to all Hi-Defs within range. If or when I ever add more to the network I'll start programming in some set group defaults but for now we don't need that." Eli turned away from the screen briefly and rapidly navigated to the communication page on her own Hi-Def, then set it to project into the air in front of her. "If you aren't wanting to talk to everyone all at once you can select a specific person or group from the default list, or create your own personalized groups of people -- and, like everything else, you can set up voice commands to get here quicker. Anyway..."

He watched as she reached out and "tapped" (it was so weird to be tapping on light that was solid...) Arlo's and Sam's name, which highlighted them in a bright green.

"So I've got my recipients selected," Eli said, smiling a bit as they turned toward Sam and Arlo - her voice was coming out of their Hi-Defs now (it was a weird effect hearing her from multiple places at once). "All you have to do then is just talk. It's pretty decent at picking up your voice even if your hand is down at your side as well as filtering out background noise but there's still a chance other things might be heard through it so be mindful of that. You can adjust your incoming and outgoing volumes here-" she indicated a double pair of up and down arrows, "-and there's an element of proximity when it comes to outgoing broadcasts." She raised her wrist to her mouth then. "If you need to be very quiet, for example," she went on in a bare whisper, "just get it closer to your face if you can."

Asher couldn't hear the words coming from her lips but could hear her clear as day coming through on Arlo and Sam's Hi-Defs - a whisper that was coming through at a normal volume.

Eli then reached out to tap Arlo's and Sam's names again, returning them to the dull tan color they'd been before she'd selected them, then demonstrated sliding both incoming and outgoing volumes down to zero. "If a Hi-Def is out of range the name will be in red and if you try to select it it'll give you its best estimate as to how far away you are from being in range. This will be based on the last time you WERE in range, so it's not going to be completely accurate -- normally these would be tethered to a satellite and could give you measurements down to the inch but we're in short supply of those. One thing to keep in mind for the future is even if we get all the signal towers up there may still be areas where you're considered out of range because the signal can't reach. Places like being in deep valleys or underground, or if you're somewhere there's a lot of metal or 'things' between you and the towers like trees, dirt, concrete... Again, wouldn't be much of a problem if we had satellite support too but we'll have to make do."

"Can these be accidentally turned on?" Asher asked. He waggled his wrist slightly. "I'm not going to start broadcasting my snoring if it turns on while I'm asleep?"

Eli shook her head. "Accidentally? No. It can detect heart and respiration rates so if you hit a certain threshold it'll assume you're asleep or unconscious and will disable all outgoing broadcasts and turn on a tracking indicator. If I NEED to I can turn the outgoing back on from here-" she patted a hand on the computer console "-so we can get audio of your surroundings, assuming you're within range. Incoming broadcasts won't be muted if you're asleep or unresponsive however."

"Neat. Can we set up alarms on this thing?"

"You mean to wake yourself up, or to alert others?"

"Both?"

Eli pointed to a spot on the projection that had a large exclamation point on it. "That there will send out a distress signal by default if you double tap on it. If you press and hold..." She jabbed it with a finger and held it there; the button flashed from red to yellow, then expanded out into a new menu that was overlaying the communication page. "It opens up this secondary menu where you can set up custom ones with your own messages and sounds. If you're looking for an alarm clock that's in the clock and calendar functions."

"Wait, you said there's a tracking indicator?" Arlo interrupted. "Even if we're asleep?"

She nodded. "Yes. There's no way for these to tell the difference between sleep and unconsciousness so a tracking indicator will turn on no matter what."

"That's...a bit weird, isn't it?" Sam asked, looking between her Hi-Def and Eli.

"Is it?" Eli asked. "I know where you all live so I already know roughly where you sleep."

"...true," Sam replied. "I guess it's not so weird when you put it that way. Does it track you any other time?"

"Not automatically, and it's not something that just anyone would've or will have access to," Eli answered. "I can, from either this computer or my Hi-Def, track any of you at any time. Normally I'd have no reason to and there were really, really, REALLY strict rules on how and when you could use the tracking function and, if we were back in my time, you could be thrown in prison if you were found to have misused or abused access to it. It's meant to be a safety feature - if someone goes missing or silent unexpectedly I can look to see where you are and if need be we can head out to do a rescue."

"So not everyone will have access to the tracking thing but will WE have access?" Asher asked, gesturing to everyone standing about. "It's not much use if you're the only one who can and you're the one who goes missing."

"I'm giving you all permission to do so but only from here," Eli said, patting the top of the computer. "It's another security thing - if someone takes you out and gets your Hi-Def we wouldn't want them figuring out how to track the rest of us - which is also why I want you all to definitely set up the voice lock command like I showed you. That'll minimize the risk even further."

"Could Paulina do the tracking if asked?" Sam asked then.

Ha...Paulina. Pauline's successor, in a way. Technically Paulina was an altered copy of Pauline that didn't need a name (because it wasn't a living AI) but they'd all agreed to renaming the working console just so they could refer to it and have everyone know exactly what was being discussed. Paulina ran both the computer as well as all of their Hi-Defs - one big copy of Pauline and nine more tiny ones.

"Yes, and no," Eli finally replied. "I'd have to program her to be able to do that. As of right now no, that's not something I have her set up to do because of all the variables that would have to go in to it. She SHOULD, in theory, be able to do it just fine since Pauline tracked people within the facility but there'd be a difference between the check point sensors and signal towers that -- well. I'm not going to get into the technical aspect. Let's just leave it at 'yes, possibly' for now."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sam nodding, looking satisfied with that answer; he looked up again as Eli turned back to the computer.

"A couple other things here - this button will mute your outgoing, double tap it to quickly mute both incoming and outgoing, and then double tap it again to unmute them. This one here opens the menu to set up your own communication groups. Press, hold, drag and drop, then hit the title bar here and either verbally or manually name it. When you do that it'll appear here..."

Asher watched as she backed out of the new menu and landed back on the main communication page, then she gestured at a smaller button that had what looked like a capital V on it; when she poked at it another menu opened and it had blank text fields on it that looked identical to the ones on the main page.

"This is where your created groups will be stored - like with individuals you can set up quick or verbal commands to broadcast to a group." She let them all get a good look at it then closed it, and then quickly flipped all the way back to the main screen of the Hi-Def. "That's all for now - don't want to overload you all with information. Feel free to play around with it, there's nothing you can do to these that I can't reverse."

Remington tapped a few fingers against his screen. "How sturdy are these things? I'm worried I'll scratch or break it somehow."

Eli chuckled. "You'll probably break the casing its in before you actually damage the screen. I don't have access to the alloys the casings were originally made out of so they're not quite as indestructible as they used to be. -- but don't get me wrong, breaking them IS a possibility, just not a very high one. You don't need to treat them like spun glass but also don't be using them as hammers or whatever - just wear them normally like you would any other article of clothing and you'll be fine." As she spoke she set the computer into a stand-by mode; the screen went black but not the dark black that indicated it was powered off entirely - that had been another concept to get used to...a "black" that still put out light.

"So...how do we start mapping Portia?" Asher asked after a pause. "This thing has some sort of scanning function, right?"

She nodded at him. "It does but we're not going to worry about that right now. We only have two signal towers up at the moment - the one here attached to the elevator platform that's interfacing with the working sensors in the facility and one that Selene attached to the schoolhouse's roof that currently is too far away to communicate with anything here but will still work if YOU all are within its range. Until we get the other towers up and figure out how to power them you'll be relying only on your onboard storage and, when it comes to mapping, that's not going to count for much because the data that generates the maps -- ...ok, again, not going to get technical, but suffice it to say that it won't be possible until we get the entire thing up and running."

"Gotcha," he replied. Honestly he was most looking forward to the mapping part...it'd give him an excuse to pick a direction and start walking during those times he wasn't on guard duty.

Asher had been born in Ethea and raised in Highwind; in a few ways Portia reminded him of Highwind - of home - so he assumed that was probably why he liked it here so much, and why he was itching to go poke around. All the wide open spaces, the beach access and harbor, the neighboring desert...all of it was something he'd been hoping he'd get a chance to fully explore before he had to go back to the Pigs's headquarters in Lucien. Now that he was carrying a Hi-Def it seemed like he had a really good reason to stick around even longer - once he'd helped get this spy problem under control he'd then be free to help map out Portia and the surrounding region, and then if these things got expanded across the continent...

Eh, well. He shouldn't get ahead of himself. The only reason he even had one was because Eli had the parts to build it; they could cover the continent in the needed signal towers but that wouldn't make more Hi-Defs appear out of thin air. And if expansion was out of the question then he probably wouldn't get to take his Hi-Def out of Portia -- and even if he wanted to keep it and leave there'd be zero reason to since all the useful stuff he was excited over wouldn't work once out of range of the signal towers.

He tapped his screen to turn it off and looked around; the others were fiddling with their Hi-Defs and Eli was still sitting on a stool next to the main computer console - she didn't seem to be paying attention to anyone or anything in particular at the moment though she had one hand resting idly across her own Hi-Def's screen.

After a few breaths she looked up suddenly and met his eye - must have sensed he was looking at her, or something. "When do you think the rest of the towers will be up?" he asked.

She took a moment to consider, then shrugged. "Hard telling. Selene is having to make molds and cast some parts, then we'll have to test strength and durability. We could technically make do in the short term but we can't guarantee we can dig up the right parts forever. And I'd rather not have to dismantle a ton of things," she added after a moment, waving a hand around herself to indicate the facility. "I'd like to...actually utilize this place. Don't know what for just yet but..." She fell silent then offered up another shrug. "We were always taught to use whatever we had at hand if things went south...I'm as far south as someone can get but it feels like tearing my own house down. I want to keep this place standing - find a reason to bring life back to it."

"Maybe as a school?" Remington offered, without looking up from his Hi-Def.

"Nah. We're moving Stewart to the clinic, remember?"

Now Remington did look up. "I remembered, yeah, but medical stuff isn't the only thing folks could learn."

Asher looked between the two of them as they spoke and was able to watch the slow progression of Eli's expression from confusion to a guarded curiosity.

"What do you mean?" she went on finally.

"Well..." Remington started, drawing out the word as he closed all the menus he was perusing. "You're teaching all of us some ranger things, and fitness and strength training. And you know all about the Old World since you lived in it. I bet people would flock from all over the continent to meet and learn from you."

Eli's expression went neutral. "True. But I'm not exactly a school teacher. I'm a soldier, and I imagine your church would have more than a few things to say about my teaching anyone on a large scale."

"They don't hold any authority within Portia or the rest of the Free Cities," Arlo said into the brief pause that followed. "They can hold all the opinions they want but they'd be inviting a lot of trouble if they tried directly interfering in a town's business or with their citizens."

Eli shrugged again. "Even still, I'd rather not kick the proverbial hornet's nest. Just because they don't have authority doesn't mean they can't or won't try something, whether that "something" is them riling up the populace against me or directly taking action to remove me from the picture - which is what would have happened in my time, and often did if someone was trying to incite something without regard to the laws."

Asher clenched his jaw at that last part; the Church Enforcers were a...particular lot. They traveled around and destroyed relics they deemed dangerous (which usually meant ANY relic they could get their hands on) and had been known to get into conflicts with civilians on the regular. The conflicts were violent at times but not usually fatal on either side; he couldn't think of any accidental deaths that had happened within recent years but could see the potential for them if the Church thought Eli, her knowledge, and anyone she shared that knowledge with was a threat. If similar had happened even back in Eli's time when, as history detailed, the world had been living in what amounted to a utopia...guess humans really hadn't changed much in three hundred years.

"Yeah, well, we just make sure that doesn't happen," Asher found himself saying, and then immediately stopped as all eyes shifted to him. He'd...not actually intended to say that out loud since it was only a half-formed thought but too late now. "Not...not that I'm suggesting we pick a fight with the Church or anything. Or have a gaggle of body guards following Eli around-"

Eli snorted. "By the Three I'd hope not."

He grinned at that. "-BUT, what we CAN do is take some steps to make sure a confrontation doesn't happen, or doesn't have a reason to happen. That means keeping people away from places they don't belong - which is something we do now anyway - and also not turning a blind eye to churchfolks who like to make up stories about things or people. I know Arlo's dealt with that here already," he added after a breath, looking to the man.

Arlo in turn nodded and crossed his arms. "I have. Thankfully Lee understood early on exactly where Gale and the Civil Corps stood on the topic -- the few things he spread around were squashed quickly and, to my knowledge, he's back to his usual sermons without 'embellishing' them."

Asher looked back to Eli. "Yeah, that - squash the lies, and just be careful about things - Portia might have opened all her other ruins for exploring but there's a lot of them across the continent that're closed, period, because they're too fragile, dangerous, or too many people rely on whatever's in them to be fairly distributed. It'd be up to Portia to set rules on who gets to come in here and why but if you end up turning this place into something everyone can use then we'd know who's here and for what reason, and anyone without a good reason can be shown the door. An Enforcer is going to stick out like a sore thumb if they come anywhere near Portia anyway. And the Church HAS come around on stuff like water filtration, powered tools, electric generating gadgets...they're definitely trigger happy on everything they come across but even they can be made to see the benefit to things eventually."

"And besides," Sam picked up, "it's not like the enforcers are assassins or anything. At most they can arrest people in the regions they have jurisdiction in, and at best they get arrested themselves for causing problems."

Adam grunted. "Threat of jail hasn't stopped 'em from arresting in places they don't have power in. There's a lot of bullhonk out in the world that you lot don't see in a town like this. They're not friendly."

"They're NOT murderers though," Asher interrupted, shooting Adam an annoyed look. "But accidents do happen when they get a bit...overeager in their work and yeah, sometimes they do try to step out of bounds if they feel threatened or justified."

Eli looked between the two Pigs. "I think we need to have a chat on what these enforcers are, what they do, and what they're SUPPOSED to do. Are they reigned in by law at all?"

"Of course. Doesn't mean they stick to it," Adam answered. "Same as anyone."

Mali shook her head and gestured for Asher and Adam to quiet. "WE," she said, gesturing to the Pigs, "would be happy to discuss the politics and laws of the wider world. Whenever you'd like to just let us know."

Eli nodded. "I appreciate it. I'll be busy this afternoon so maybe later tonight, or even tomorrow."

Asher could see her glance over to Arlo and give him a barely perceptible nod; guess whatever she was up to this afternoon included him, or the Civil Corps, or both. After another pause in the conversation Eli stood up and again invited them all to play around with their Hi-Defs, reminded them to set their voice locks, then headed out of the room with Arlo following along a few moments later.

For one brief moment he contemplated following them; everyone else had their attentions back on their Hi-Defs so he doubted they'd even notice if he slipped out. But, it was pretty clear, when neither Remington or Sam moved to leave, that whatever Eli's plans were for the afternoon they included Arlo and just Arlo...if others were welcome she probably would have said something. He looked around at everyone again -- whether he followed Eli and Arlo or not he did know he wanted to get back out on the surface and into fresh air; the Research Center, with Stewart's help, had fully repaired the air system down here so he logically knew that fresh air was always circulating but it didn't stop the feelings of mild claustrophobia and stuffiness he got when he was down here for awhile. He'd give Arlo and Eli time to get back to the surface then would head that way himself and tuck himself into a quiet corner of the tent while he fiddled with the Hi-Def.

Asher flipped through the screens back to communication and sorted Mali and Adam into a separate group he labeled "Flying Pigs," and then slid all three of the Civil Corps members into their own group as well. Setting up the voice commands were easy ("call Pigs" and "call Civil" respectively, since Eli had suggested "call" as a command word to use) and then he found his fingers hovering over Arlo and Eli's names; after a moment to consider he slid the two of them into another custom group.

Adam and Mali might be his fellow Pigs but he wasn't especially close to either of them - before now he'd not even had a chance to talk to them much since they were always doing their own things; he was closer to Greg than he was to anyone else in the Flying Pigs but only because they'd shared a bunk room at headquarters up until Greg got married and moved in to a house with his wife. Arlo reminded him of Greg in a lot of ways and, despite having watched him fail the entry exam multiple times, Asher was still convinced that Arlo would make it eventually and was looking forward to being there when he finally did (and hey - he hadn't had a bunk mate since Greg moved out and Arlo would be expected to spend his first two years living at headquarters as a rule).

And, when it came to Eli... Well.

He titled their group "Buds" but held off on setting up a voice command. For now.

----------------------------------------------------

"Hey you!"

Harrison took a moment to reply (he hated being interrupted mid-sentence when reading) but found himself smiling up at Lily as she leaned over his pile of books.

"Hello there - I didn't hear you come in."

She giggled and patted a hand on top of what was basically a barricade of reading material lined up along the outer edge of the little table he studied at. "Gee, I wonder why."

He felt his face go a bit red but he laughed quietly all the same and quickly moved a few stacks of books down to the floor near his feet. "Sorry. What are you up to today?"

"I came by to ask if you had any letters or anything you'd like me to take back to Lucien."

"Back to Lucien?" he repeated. A sinking feeling hit him - she was leaving?

Lily nodded. "Uh huh. It's about time to head back home to check in with mom - I try to stay away only a couple months at a time. If I come home at regular intervals then she worries less." She paused and squinted at him, then waved her hands frantically. "But I'm coming back! I'm going to come back!" she added in a rush. "I just have to let her know I'm ok!"

"Oh," he said, letting out a loud breath. "Ok. Yes, that - that sounds like a good thing to do. Um..."

He'd had a pad of paper here somewhere... As he started sorting through the folders and remaining books on his desk Lily stood there and rocked back and forth from heels to toes, like she usually did when standing still (well, not STILL - she seemed incapable of not moving some part of her when standing around idle) and then she bent to yank something out from under a pile on the corner.

"Here you go-" she held out the writing pad to him with a grin.

"Thanks." He grabbed it and leafed through the pages inside; there was a half-completed letter in here somewhere...ah. Carefully he pulled the page free and flipped it around to show her. "I sort of do. When did you plan on heading home?"

"I'd planned on heading up to Sandrock today and catching the bus north but I can wait until tomorrow."

"I can have this done here in a few minutes if you really want to leave today."

Lily wrinkled her nose and sighed. "I don't REALLY want to leave but I have to. BUT, like I said, I'm going to come back. I even have a job lined up for when I come back, too!"

Harrison blinked at her. "Oh?" How long had she planned on leaving without mentioning anything to him...?

"Mmhmm. That old lady farmer is willing to hire me on as an extra farmhand to help with the spring planting and all the little baby animals that'll be born or hatching here soon. That'll earn me enough that I wouldn't have to worry for awhile."

"How long will you be gone?" he asked as he fished around for a pencil.

"I'll probably be back within a week." She hummed to herself for a breath, then spun on a heel to face the door. "I'll be back in a bit for that, ok?"

"All right."

Harrison watched her skip out of the clinic and huffed out a sigh. He shouldn't be too surprised or disappointed that she'd be going home but logic and sense rarely went hand in hand with... The "L" word felt a bit too much at this point but he was definitely interested in her, and she in him. It was highly unfair for him to expect her to stay here, just because he was here, without giving any thought to her own needs or obligations.

Quickly he skimmed over the letter; he'd been halfway through detailing everything he'd done so far in Portia - this wouldn't take long to finish.

Not long after Lily had left the doors opened again; Dr. Xu came in leading someone with a heavy bandage taped to their chin. Harrison paused in his letter writing and watched as Xu led the man over toward the Uplifter, and lifted the machine's dust cover while directing the man to pull over a stool.

"Would you like a hand, Dr. Xu?"

"That would be welcomed, Harrison, thank you."

He got up and came around to help the patient position the stool in front of the Uplifter. "Here, just sit here and -- yes, like that, and sit up straight. Dr. Xu will lower that part there that looks like a plate and adjust it near your face."

"And this thing'll be able to fix it?" the man asked. His voice was obviously pained and also slurred, as he didn't seem willing to move his mouth and jaw more than he had to.

"It'll close the wound and there shouldn't be any scar visible, yes," Xu answered. "Go ahead and take the bandage off while I get the last few steps completed. This will sting briefly as it starts up but will numb soon after-"

Harrison looked from the man to Dr. Xu as Xu cut off mid-sentence; the doctor was patting at the side of the machine and looking confused. "What's wrong?"

"Hmm. The manual for it isn't in its usual slot. Have you seen it?" Harrison shook his head and Xu hummed to himself. "Well. I have the steps memorized but I had wanted you to follow along in the manual as I worked."

"Perhaps it accidentally got mixed in with Phyllis's things when she moved to her new practice?"

"It's possible," Xu replied, nodding to Harrison. "When we finish here would you mind walking out there to check?"

"I need to finish something quickly before that but otherwise I don't mind at all."

Xu smiled and began to input the commands into the Uplifter's computer panel; Harrison leaned over to help the man on the stool remove the bandage, and then winced when he saw the injury -- it was a deep wound, with jagged edges, and he could see the white of bone beneath it. Once Xu had all the commands in place he settled the headpiece of the Uplifter over the man's head fully and hit the Start button.

"No talking," Xu said then. "This will take several minutes."

Harrison could see the man flinch as the machine whirred to life but afterward the man sat calmly, unmoving, as the Uplifter did its work.

Since there would be some time to kill while the machine mended the injury Harrison returned to his table and went back to his letter. Assuming there weren't any other emergencies or distractions he should have this done well before Lily came back for it.

---------------------------------------------------

"How many keys were on the keyboard I was using?"

"Fifty six. Fifty seven if the secondary power button counts."

"Good. How many birds over there?"

"Fo- no, five."

"And what are they?"

"Sounds like common house sparrows."

"Right. Cows in the field?"

"Unfair question - McDonald said one was in labor."

"Assume the calf hasn't made an appearance yet."

"Fourteen."

"Horses?"

"Three. The rest were in the barn still."

As they walked along Eli nodded approvingly at him; these early techniques she was teaching him were hard to describe but when put into practice Arlo found they weren't so impossible as he'd initially thought.

"How far off is the Dee-Dee?"

Arlo paused; he was certain he hadn't seen or heard the Dee-Dee that ran between here and town yet but if Eli was asking, then...

All right, so maybe he shouldn't feel so confident in himself just yet.

----------------------------------------------------

Harrison's letter was safely in her pack; he'd written out his parent's address and on the back of the envelope he'd even given her a crudely drawn map of how to get there from Lucien's town square.

It was going to be a really simple matter to find his family.

The bus had dropped her off at the stop just outside of Lucien's border; a group had gotten off with her and as they all filed through the little turnstile to get off the platform Lily tried to tamp down her irritation at being jostled by all the careless people around her.

And then finally she was out into the night, and free. No one in the near vicinity, and no one paying any attention to her when she passed.

There was a run down shed on the northern side of Lucien that held old, rusted gardening equipment. The padlock looked equally as rusted but she knew that was just for looks; her key turned soundlessly in it and, after making sure no one was around, she slipped inside and picked her way among the clutter until she came to an empty workbench with a heavy burlap rug pinned underneath the bench's front two legs. She flipped the rug aside to reveal a trap door and used a second key to open it before sliding down the ladder and into a cramped, barely lit tunnel that led to a considerably more comfortable room with padded chairs, a few bunk beds, and a tiny kitchenette.

Normally there would be three or four people here, waiting; tonight there was only one - a dark haired man, short and squat, with a ruddy complexion and face dotted with pimples and acne scars. He was listening to a small radio and when Lily stepped into the room he spun around with one hand going for a gun holstered at his side. When he finally registered who she was he visibly calmed, then an instant later growled at her angrily.

"What are YOU doing here? Captain Xan didn't-"

"Shut up," Lily snapped. She stomped in and yanked Harrison's letter out of her pack before letting the bag drop to the floor. "Through sheer dumb luck I stumbled on something that we can't pass up. Call him down here."

Grunting and puffing the fat man got up out of his chair and shoved passed her to go back up the tunnel she'd just come from. Lily yanked the envelope open, took the letter out and flattened it across a table, then carefully opened the envelope's seams so it too could lay flat.

She waited longer than she wanted to but soon the scarred man came back, huffing and puffing and with his face even redder with exertion; behind him trailed a rail-thin man with a shaved head, seven piercings in his left ear, and what could be mistaken for smile lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes. He was dressed in old, stained clothing, and had a heavy apron tossed over one arm -- it would seem Xan was still working his cover job as a butcher over on the southern side of Lucien's market district.

"What brings you back early, Lily?" Xan asked. His tone was smooth and calm but Lily could tell by the way his jaw bulged a bit that he was gritting his teeth -- she didn't know what he'd been told by the fat messenger but it was clear he was mad at her.

"An opportunity fell into my lap," she answered. With a light touch she turned the letter and envelope with its map around to face him, then pushed it across the table toward him. "There's a doctor in Portia, with a student who sounds just like him. And that machine we've heard of exists and does exactly as rumored - I have the manual to prove it. Doctor and student are roughly the same size and height as well."

Xan's face broke into a cold smile as he gingerly picked up the envelope and studied the map; that was one thing Lily liked about Xan -- he understood her ideas and plans without her having to painstakingly spell it out for him. "Have you acted on it?"

"Not yet. I think it best if we have some bargaining chips first. I've charmed the student so it won't be odd for me to be seen in and around the clinic -- and besides, the lock on their doors as well as on the doctor's desk are ridiculously easy to pick. We can take out the doctor and force the student to replace him once we have the appropriate motivation in place for the student."

Xan nodded slowly, tapping the edge of the envelope against his lower lip as he thought; it was several minutes before the man spoke again. "We'll prepare a place to hold everyone -- we will, after all, need ready access to the doctor so we can feed information to the student, so that the illusion holds. When will the All Source be moved into the clinic?"

"That I'm not sure. I found all the information about their plans to expand the clinic but construction hasn't started yet, nor was there any hint as to when it would."

"Wait until construction is under way, then you may act," Xan ordered. "I'll send Marcus and Evangeline to back you up directly, and will have others standing by to get the All Source secured and away when the time comes. Leave the hostages to us."

"What do you want me to do in the meantime? They know someone has been keeping an eye on the facility."

"Do whatever you have to to keep your current cover intact," Xan replied. "Is the suit secured?"

Lily jerked her head toward the pack on the floor. "I need a few replacement wires - one of the Flying Pig bitches shot me in the arm."

Xan turned around toward the ruddy-faced man. "Tell Steven we need the filament wires, immediately." When the man nodded Xan turned back to her. "You've done exceptionally well -- I'll make sure you get a bonus. Take some time, rest - actually visit your mother if you so choose. Leave the suit here for Steven though."

Lily nodded. "Understood. Is anyone staying here tonight?"

"Just Howie," Xan said, gesturing toward the fat man. "-who SHOULD have already left to fetch Steven, yet here we are."

At that Howie about fell over himself to scramble from the room again; Xan let out a short chuckle that trailed into a sigh.

Lily wrinkled her nose and picked up the letter, offering it to Xan who took it and carefully folded it with the envelope. "I will go home then. I'm in no mood to share a space with an ugly idiot."

"Fair enough. Tell your mother I said, thank you for the chamomile. It made a very pleasant tea."

"I will. You know where to find me."

Wordlessly Xan nodded and turned to leave; Lily gave him plenty of time to have disappeared into the night before she too left the underground hidey hole and headed out into the evening air. Steven had repaired the suit before so she wasn't concerned about leaving it behind.

She took her time walking home and stopped at the front gate to take a steadying breath and get her mind back into "happy go lucky airhead Lily" mode. It was so exhausting to keep up that facade but knew if she didn't play the right part then her mother would ask questions she'd rather not answer.

With an inner grimace but an outward smile Lily pushed the gate open; the front windows were open to let in the night breeze and the lights were still on. "Moooooom," she called out as she walked up the path toward the front porch. "I'm hooooooome!"

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 16 #Arlo #Sam #Remington #Mali #Dr. Xu #Duvos #Lucien #My Time at Portia

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