#petite fem oc
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Petite Voleuse
Part 4
Fandom: Pilgrimage
Summary: When stealing something of great value and importance from a man like Raymond de Merville you never could have foreseen how your life would change.
Words: 2,5K
Warnings: 18+, smut, verbal abuse, non-con
A/N: This is the fourth part of this fic. You can read the previous parts here.
French
Ma petite voleuse - My little thief
Tu t'es languie de moi? - Did you languish for me?
Special thanks to @lathalea & @legolasbadass! 💙
The days gradually become shorter, the sun seems shy, and the nights carry an icy wind from the sea. The full moon must have shed its pale light over the encampment at least two times since I first saw it on the night I was fettered to the pole, but it is hard to follow the changes in the environment when every day in my canvas cage is the same. My life follows a strict routine, forced upon me by the man whose moody temper and raw treatments I have grown accustomed to. I wake up, often before he does, assist him when he gets dressed, then I spend the day alone with only my thoughts as a distraction. At night, he returns to take out his frustration, anger or, on rare occasions, his excitement, on me. Afterwards, we both come to rest, drained of the last drops of energy as a result of the intense climax, but I always fall asleep with mixed feelings in my chest. The first nights I spent in his bed were torture; I felt like I was sleeping on a bed filled with thorns. But lately, I often wake up with his arm draped around my waist. If I, in those moments, close my eyes and try to forget where I am, his unconscious embrace feels almost pleasant.
One morning when I slip out of bed after Raymond, the cold in the tent is worse than usual. I cannot stop my body from shivering when I hand him the different pieces of armor, and the sensitive skin on my breasts stands guard under his piercing gaze. For some reason, he usually lets me be in the morning. His lust peaks during the night, and like a beast, he likes to satisfy his darkest needs in the shadows, where the light from the flickering fire does not reach. The bed is always partly illuminated and a relatively safe place to be. It is when he drags me to one of the thick, steady poles holding the canvas over our heads that I know the night will be long and my skin will ache the following morning.
When I place Raymond’s cloak over his shoulders, he suddenly reaches for me and lets his warm hands travel over my cold skin. I try not to lean closer to him, for his touch is more gentle than before, and my body seeks his warmth without my consent. I force my teeth to stop chattering as I meet his gaze, and for a second, he looks like he is about to say something. Then he abruptly turns away from me, and his groan hangs in the air while the opening to the tent closes behind him. I throw myself back into bed and pull the blanket and the extra fur up to my nose, desperate to feel what remains of the warmth from the night. The blanket smells of Raymond, and I close my eyes. His musky scent is no longer something I want to scrub off my skin as soon as I can, and I have accepted it as part of my life now, for as long as he deems necessary.
The young man who brings me food announces his arrival later than expected and he enters with a quick glance in my direction. I have not spoken to him since my failed attempt to plead for help and I have no desire to. He places the bowl on the table, then reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a small box. After he puts the little dark wooden box next to the bowl, he turns to me.
”I bring something of value to you.” He pats the box.
I peek at the item and then instinctively pull the blanket tighter to my body. I do not like the tone in his voice. He is a snake, but I do not dare to tell him that.
”I did not accept your offer,” I whisper, afraid he will come for his payment. His greedy eyes roam the blanket as if he seeks to catch a glimpse of my naked skin.
”You could have got it sooner if you had accepted. Sadly, for me, I was told to bring you this.” Disappointment fills his voice and I stare at him in disbelief.
”By who?” I lower my gaze as soon as I realize I have said too much. It is not my place to ask questions. But the young man does not take the opportunity to reprimand me. Instead he answers ”Sire Raymond himself.”
With one last long stare at me, he finally leaves me alone, and as soon as I am certain he will not return, I jump out of bed to open the box. My porridge can wait. I hold my breath as I open the lid with trembling fingers. A gasp falls from my lips and tears well up in my eyes over this gift that to many is not much, but to me is the whole world; inside the box is a thin needle and thread. I can finally repair my dress. It will at least keep me a little warmer and I will not have to endure the humiliation of being in bed or wrapped in a blanket every time my food is delivered. I close the lid and grab the bowl but when I take the spoon I see another great surprise. Someone has poured generous drops of the sweetest nectar in the forest over the porridge: wild honey. I do not know why I suddenly have been given this treat, but I can only think of one person ordering it, and reluctantly, I send a grateful thought to Raymond.
I eat in a hurry, eager to do something meaningful with my time, and the meal is even more filling than usual. As always,I scrape the bowl empty, careful not to miss any drops of honey. When I am done I place the bowl back on the table and pick up my dress that has been resting on a small stool ever since the night Raymond brutally tore it apart. I run my hand over the stained fabric. Finally I can look forward again. Hope rises in my chest, and I permit myself to dream of the wind playing with my hair and caressing my cheeks as I walk over endless green fields.
It is very late when Raymond returns, and the familiar sounds from the men by the fire have almost died. The day’s impressions and tensions are making me tired but as soon as I hear Raymond’s booming voice outside, my heart beats faster and fills my body with adrenaline. I hold my head a little higher when I step forward to greet him, wearing my dress with the long, almost invisible, seam in the front. Without a word, he starts to undress, layer by layer, and I assist him in tense silence. Only his tunic remains when I allow myself to glance at his face. Even if I know what to expect from him, I still jump when he grabs me by the throat. His thumb caresses my skin, and his eyes shift to the same colors as the flickering fire. If I had not seen it before, I would have been terrified of the dark look in his eyes. When his other hand travels over the worn linen fabric, a cruel smile forms on his lips.
”This dress reminds me of the first time I took you.” His grip around my neck tightens, and I feel my pulse drumming at my temples. ”I did not plan to keep you in my bed this long but you turned out to be much more enjoyable than I thought.” He leans in close to me, and his breath fans my cheek as he purrs something I do not understand in an alluring tone I have never heard him use. Then his grip on my throat tightens even more, and small stars appear before my eyes. I place my hand on his forearm in a wordless plea for release.
”Ma petite voleuse, I know you enjoy this too.” His voice drips with lust. The bastard is right; my body hums in tune with his harsh treatment, and I cannot ignore the effect his voice has on me.
“I will spare your dress tonight,” he murmurs as he grabs one of my sleeves and pulls until the fabric glides down and exposes my bare shoulder. “If you want to keep it in this condition you will take it off whenever I want you to. If you hesitate or refuse, I will rip it off your body again.”
I nod, and the pressure around my neck slowly fades away. Feeling the ground sway under my feet, I gasp for air and wonder if the day will come when his grip will cause me to faint. It has come close at times and he seems to enjoy all types of control over my body. Maybe this is what he refers to as another type of punishment. Raymond takes a step back and folds his arms over his chest. His lips form a grin, and without taking his eyes from my cleavage, he rasps a single word: “Undress.”
I swallow hard; my throat feels sore after his tight grip but not worse than it has been before, it will pass before the night is over. Before his eyes, I lift the dress and pull it over my head. I do not leave it on the floor, but instead I fold it and put it on the stool. The fabric is more than just a dress, it now symbolises hope and deserves to be treated accordingly. When I meet Raymond’s ravenous gaze, he nods at the bed. He does not need to use words. I understand what he expects from me.
I lie back on the bed and watch Raymond put another log on the fire. His strong shoulders flex in the warm light as he pulls off his tunic and when he steps up to the bed, I stop breathing. Raymond truly has the body of a warrior and I can only imagine how skilled and ruthless he is with his sword in battle. Feral hunger fills his eyes when he takes in my naked body, spread out on his bed, on his command, and my vulnerability is once again reminding me of his superior strength and power. With the unmistakable confidence of a knight, he covers my body with his and pins me to the bed. Obediently, I spread my legs for him and the shame and lust wash over me in an intoxicating combination. I feel his impressive spear press against me but he does not enter me at once.
”Tu t'es languie de moi?” he groans in my ear and when I do not answer him, he forces my knees even further apart. I put up enough resistance to make him use his strength and I know it gives him satisfaction. His moan turns to a raw chuckle when his fingers reach between my thighs. ”I know you have.”
I whimper when he adjusts himself and with a deep thrust he buries his spear in my heat. Even if I am stretched around Raymond’s massive girth every night, I still struggle initially to adjust to his size. But soon enough my body gives in and welcomes every movement of his hips.
Raymond is a violent man and sharing his bed involves bruises and soreness, but it also means ferocious peaks of satisfaction when he pushes me beyond my limits. It did not take long before I realized that he finds perverse amusement in my vocals, and the louder I am, both in pleasure and in pain, the more he acknowledges my needs as well. Tonight is no exception and when I fall apart under him, he joins me with a long stream of words that sound more like a curse than praise.
Panting heavily, he heaves himself on his hands while my body still shakes from his intense treatment. Without a word, he stares down at me and I meet his gaze with a growing feeling of anxiousness. He usually takes what he wants from me and then falls asleep. That is much easier to deal with than the current piercing gaze that makes my mouth go dry. Afraid I have done something to displease him, and now have to pay for it in a sinister way, I close my eyes in an attempt to calm myself down. Unexpectedly the thought of his gift appears in my mind and when I remember that I have not yet thanked him for it, I open my eyes again. Maybe it will direct his thoughts in another direction.
”Thank you for the gift this morning,” I say quietly.
Raymond does not answer me but he tilts his head a little to the side and the smallest of smiles briefly dances in the corner of his mouth. It softens the cruel expression on his face, and for once, he looks almost content. But the moment is gone in the blink of an eye. With a grunt he moves to my side and comes to rest on his back. The dark hair on his chest curls when damp, and as he scratches his chest with his large and calloused hand, I cannot stop myself from observing his fingers. Something about his hands is truly appealing, and when the blood is washed from them, they are capable of the most satisfying actions. Raymond pulls the blanket over both of us, but instead of turning away from me as he usually does, he stays on his back and tucks one arm under his head. It feels more intimate to lie like this, and sleep will not come easy to me. my mind tries to process the staggering day and night. I watch the look on his face soften and it becomes clear that Raymond clearly does not share my problem with sleeping because his chest heaves with every deep breath he takes and an aura of calmness surrounds him. Have you missed me? His question finds its way to my consciousness and occupies my mind. I want to shout ”NO!” to his face, but lately I have felt more excitement than fear when he towers over my naked body. Do I miss him or is it just my miserable loneliness that plays tricks on my brain? If we had met under different circumstances, how would my feelings towards him have been? The most important question makes me anxious and it is the question I try to run away from; will I miss him the day I slip unnoticed from his grip?
Did you like it? Please like, comment or/and reblog! ❤️
Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knitastically @jaskierthelover @quiall321 @medusas-hairband
Please let me know if you want to be added or removed.
#raymond de merville#richard armitage#fanfiction#raymond de merville x oc#raymond de merville fanfic#raymond fanfic#raymond fic#raymond de merville x fem!reader#pilgrimage (2017)#pilgrimage#Petite Voleuse
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“YOU SPOKE!!” – Their kids first words (Night Raven 3rd Years-Malleus & Lilia)
A/n: Yes I ‘m well aware I haven’t updated/posted my other oc request from my event, even though it ended over a month ago BUT it’s getting done and I will try to finish as fast as I can. I ‘m just posting this because it’s been delayed forever and I need something to get my writing juices going.
If you see me mention gender it’s based off of my Twst boys as Parents series that you can find here!!
Warnings: FEM! Reader, pregnancy,domestic fluff, babies(ofc), google translate translations, I’m only doing their first kids/first set of kids
pairing(s):3rd Years x fem!Reader(separate/romantic)
Yummy/Delicious- Hears you say it everytime Trey makes a really good baked treat(aka all the time). Now I know delicious is probably a hard word for a baby to say which is why I also have ‘yummy’. They say it for the first time after Trey gives them a small part of a macaroon. You could just see how Trey’s eyes lit up when he heard his little one speak for the first time!!
Smile!!/Cheese!!- The two of you (mostly Cater) always say these phrases to your kids, so it’s no surprise when their first words are smile and cheese. With the family album(that I 100% believe Cater would start making once you get pregnant). When Cater heard his babies speak for the very first time he got super sentimental and excited calling you over(if you weren’t already there)
Papa!- Now this is solely based on my personal headcanon that Leona’s first kid would be a girl and a total Daddy’s girl. Always with him, even though you carried her for 9 MONTHS, homegirl got evicted from the womb and wanted to follow around papa. I also believe this happened as he was getting something and turned his back to her so she tried to get his attention. His ears immediately shoot up and his eyes open wide. He instantly picks up his cub and rushes over to you to tell you what your daughter just said. But dw, her next word ended up being mama. Is so proud of his little girl~
Pretty!- You’re always saying this to your husband so she eventually just picks up on it. Also hears other people saying it about either you or Vil; not to mention you and Vil do occasionally call her “pretty girl”. So she’s just surrounded by the word so it's no shocker when it’s her first word. Vil just beamed at his daughter, truly feeling the sentiment. His little girl, his pride and joy has spoken for the first time BUTTTT sadly he wasn’t there to witness it. So all that happened when he came back from work. He almost left early after you told him over the phone. But he could be more proud of his kleiner engel.
Up!!- Now this is because this little Hunt loves being picked up, especially when her father is flying on his broom. They love the feeling of being high up and flying through the sky with her father. Rook is always open to giving his petit oiseau what they ask. When his little one said their first words he couldn’t help but outburst with joy. He couldn’t stop praising them for speaking, then when you came in or called out to him/your child, he began praising you for giving this wonderful child.
Play!!/Uh oh- Now 2 things to establish, 1. Ik “uh oh isn’t a word” but I’m just gonna have to count it and I will explain why 2. Why are there 2 different words, well if you read this fic here!!, you’ll learn that I believe Idia has twin boys therefore I wrote 2 different words. Now onto my explanation; for ‘play’ it just makes sense, sitting on his dad’s lap watching him play games that say and display the word ‘play’ on the title screen ofc that would be his kid’s first word it just makes sense. Now for your other twin boy this was his first “word” because whenever Idia gets frustrated on the game at a certain point he hears you say “uh oh”, meaning “Dad’s about to burst”. They also have learnt(bc they're a very smart child) that they can use this for other times when something is about to go wrong so they do say it when something might go wrong. Idia seemed nonchalant at first place but then a smile grew on Idia’s face from his adorable talking twins.<3
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#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#fluff#domestic#tw babies#babies#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#idia shroud x reader
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❝ 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘 - 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 🪩 ❞ - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒
pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia
summary: most of the social media post made throughout the miami gp weekend!
warning: twitter environment (you know the deal), cussing.
saint’s team radio: hi everyone! just wanted to give y’all a little something something before releasing ‘break my soul’ ! i’m a bit sick rn but i will get back into my groove very very soon 🤭
dividers by: @cafekitsune
pls like, comment and reblog! 🫶🏽
taglist: @queenshikongo3 @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene @lorarri @goldenalbon @yeea-nah @non-stop-imagines (lmk if you want to be tagged!)
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twitter
instagram
nadiahamilton
liked by lilymhe, badgalriri and 1,383,994 others
nadiahamilton yes i know where he keeps his music and no, i won’t be telling you where 🫶🏽
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nadiahamilton it was sooo nice meeting you guys this weekend 🥹
pinned by author
user i swear you’re his lucky charm
fransisca.cgomes mother ‼️
alexandrasaintmleux and if i ask for your hand in marriage?
nadiahamilton let’s run away
user i fell in love everytime you appeared on screen
user her energy is so refreshing, even if it’s through a tv or phone 😭
user where do you get your clothes???
nadiahamilton i’ll make a highlight for all the stores i shop at 🫶🏽
herstudent i hope school’s open soon, we need the tea!!
nadiahamilton you’ll be getting the pamphlets for the medieval times instead 😚
user his arm…dear lord
nadiahamilton i know, can’t believe it’s wrapped around me rn 🥹
user13 no way she just said that????
yungfilly bestie takin over miami!!
chunkz i think this is where you’re wrong brotha 🤨
niko you’re right, i’m the bestie
nellarose_ YOU’RE ALL WRONG 🤣
nataliatheedon and if i smack your ass, i’m wrong 😔
nadiahamilton bc it really hurt plus you were running behind me????
mercedesamgf1 Mrs Mercedes 🤍
user lewis is washed, never going to get that 8th
nadiahamilton watch your mouth 🙏🏽
lilymhe tinkerbell 🥹
liked by nadiahamilton
user is this a inside joke???? a fun nickname??? we need to know!
sza do you think your man will have a problem if i take you away?
nadiahamilton when and where? 🤭
lewishamilton ???????
hater ad21 was deserved 🤣
nadiahamilton i know where you live 🫶🏽
hater as if
nadiahamilton Glendale right??
hater oh shit
user now how tf did she find that man’s address 😭
user don’t question her mastery 🗣️
lewishamilton my angel 🤍
nadiahamilton my superstar 💗
lewishamilton
liked by bellahadid, charles_leclerc and 3,383,929 others
lewishamilton miami, you’ve been good 🙏🏽
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nadiahamilton steal my captions why don’t you 🙄
lewishamilton it’s my job 😋
user blonde is so her colour
raye you both are so lovely 🤍
lewishamilton thank you Raye and btw, she’s crying because of this
nadiahamilton DON’T TELL HER OMG????
spinzbeatsinc king and queen of england
nadiahamilton do you want me to get deported??
user just accept your fate guys
user now i need to know if he speaks any south african languages
nadiahamilton he tries to but he says it in a british accent so i end up laughing at him
user mr, does this mean you’re the class dad?
lewishamilton i guess so?
herstudent YEAHHH OUR DAD’S SIR LEWIS HAMILTON!!!
user her face should be trademarked
user how many cars do you think they own together?
f1wags what a woman!
user petition for Nadia to be team principal!
mercedesamgf1 we back this 🫡
hater her tattoos were everywhere and stole the attention off Lewis! She’s so ugly
nadiahamilton never that 🙏🏽
user did you guys see that drake reposted her post?
user wasn’t he friends with lewis at some point???
zendaya see you guys soon 🫶🏽
racerbia mother and father
nadiahamilton my man is so fine y’all damn
user SHE’S SO REAL FOR THIS
nadiahamilton like he looks so delectable, my goat fr 🤭
lewishamilton nads 😧
f1 mother of the paddock ‼️
nadiahamilton pls not while Susie is right there ☹️
badgalriri i hope you do know there’s a group of us planning to take her
iamcardib heard she’s a stylist, need one rn
kehlani i second this !
latto777 if she ever needs flowers, i got her ‼️
nadiahamilton y’all 🥹
lewishamilton can you guys stop planning to take my wife away from me?
user idk, something’s fishy
user yeah bc where the fuck did she come from?
text messages !
♡‧₊ billionaire boys club
miles the fencer 🤺: no way they’re stealing your wife from you in broad daylight?
pookie buddy lewis: pls don’t chat, it’s hurting my spirit rn
princess natalia: let’s talk about nads meeting pharrell (also i’m a genius for naming this gc after his company)
daniel is spinning: her face was just like 😧
nadia: 🧍🏽♀️
personal pillow amara: but nads, genuinely, how do you feel after this weekend? it was a big one for you bae
nadia: i do feel like ripping the earth in half and falling in but it’s cool because lew gets me ice cream after 🤭
pookie buddy lewis: i always got your back, nads. you know that. we’ll get ice cream whenever you want
miles the fencer 🤺: GET A FUCKING ROOM OMG
princess natalia: EWWWWW
charlotte (not tilbury): don’t listen to them, this is the cutest shit ever 😭
andrew with the camera: but if i expose miles’ 0.5x photos, i’m wrong.
daniel is spinning: DRAG HIMMMM
personal pillow amara: i’ve taught you way too much danny
miles the fencer 🤺: man whatever 🙄
charlotte (not tilbury): nads, i HAVE to see you in malibu
nadia: ofc, i don’t know what to expect from that place
princess natalia: don’t worry bae, we got you!
ೃ°
The Avengers (niko made this)
chunkz: nads, who’s this boy you’re chatting to? 🤨
filly felipe: “this boy” and it’s lewis hamilton 🤣
sharks: AND they’re married????
nadia: and i was going to invite you lot to my new place and show you my new car but ig you don’t want to
harry (pinero) potter: BOYS TAKE IT BACK
aj shabeeeeel: i personally never said anything 🙏🏽
niko: you know i’ve always loved f1, nads
nella loml: lying on a public platform, niko??
nadia: you lot are too funny i can’t 😭
nadia: but yeah, wanted to know when you guys are available so that you guys can meet him officially
fiily felipe: welcoming our brother in law aww 🥹
king kenny: how about we chat about the marriage??
nadia: how about no? 🫶🏽
chunkz: i’m just happy something so special is happening to you, nads. you deserve it
nella loml: it’s been a tough ride and already it’s looking so up for you bae
nadia: you guys wanna make me cry on a monday morning 🫵🏽
sharks: always the plan 🫡
niko: to make her cry????
sharks: 😐
king kenny: pls come back to London asap, Cench has been calling us up for a vid ever since the last two 😔
nadia: leave me out of that one, i have a husband 🖐🏽
chunkz: YOU TELL THEM NADS
filly felipe: nadia thandeka hamilton, it has SUCH a nice ring to it 😭
aj shabeeeel: and you guys look so leng together, already my brother in law 🫡
harry (pinero) potter: better get home quick for that debrief!
saint’s team radio (once again!): hope you guys enjoyed this one! it’s got a little touch of how nadia interacts with people she knows and people she doesn’t, our social butterfly 🥹
we finally have a ship name for our favs ‘Lewdia’ coined by @mauvecherie-writes!
i’ve got a few more smaus ready but yeah, love you guys loads! 💗
#saint writes#f1 x reader#formula one x black reader#x black fem reader#formula one x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton fanfics#lewis hamilton imagine#renaissance: the series#lewis hamilton x black reader#lewis hamilton x oc
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|Glimpses of Reality |
Stilgar Ben Fifrawi x OC Fem
WC: 1153
The sound of children’s laughter filled the Atreides Castle, the future heir and the young apprentice of his mother were playing together as the elders discussed the next and most favorable moves for House Atreides.
“Did you find it?” Paul asked as she was looking around for the butterfly they had been chasing. Mileena shook her head “I believe it left to the gardens. We can try to search in there” Paul nodded and the two of them got back to their initial task of catching the butterfly.
Jessica Atreides was looking at them playing from the balcony of the Duke’s office. She was doubting between ending their game as the girl needed to keep her Bene Gesserit training or let them play as her son looked happy at the moment. She chose the second one, she would always choose Paul’s happiness.
“Is it not time for Paul to train his sword skills and Mileena to continue training with you?” The Duke asked as he joined his partner outside of his office. Jessica stumbled a little bit “I thought you were still inside discussing whatever matters those old men bring to you” Leto laughed at her response. “We finished early as expected. I was hoping to attend Paul’s training but I think he’s quite busy right now” The Duke nodded his head to point at the two kids that were jumping in order to catch the butterfly that was flying above their heads.
Jessica laughed and continued observing the two children. When she accepted to train Mileena Almad, she merely did it as the Reverend Mother asked her to do it, and a Bene Gesserit would never deny any petition from her. However, it seems that this was the right choice as the girl immediately connected with her son. She was his first friend from his age; she would not remind him of the duties he has as the Duke’s son like most people do, she was a breath of fresh air to the pressure her son felt.
“Are you still against the arrangement between Mileena and Paul?” He asked as he could not find a reason to explain the negativity from Jessica to this arrangement. “They get along together. When they are older, they will make a happy marriage” Jessica denied with her head “That’s where you are wrong. They will fall in love but not with each other. They will never see each other as their lover” The Duke frowned when he heard that “How would you know that? They live together and will continue this way for more years. It is highly possible that they eventually will look at each other with more than friendship intentions”
She sighed and moved inside to the door of the office to get Mileena to continue her training “I can not speak about Paul as he does not talk to me about certain matters. However, Mileena is always talking to me about the dreams she has. There is a man in her future and it is not Paul” She answered as she closed the door of the office and headed to the garden to get Mileena and Paul to do their duties.
Even if she would show support for this arrangement, she knew the Reverent Mother would not approve it. They held another plan for Mileena and Paul. Jessica Atreides can only rescue one of them from the hands of the Bene Gesserit, and once again, she would choose her son’s happiness above anything.
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Time skip (Time period of Dune 1)
————————————————————
There she was, back to this place which has become familiar as she always found herself at it in her dreams.
The hot temperatures and the infinity sand could make any foreigner get on their knees and cry for help to get back home. However, this was not her case. This place was her home, she could feel how her body got along with the sand and became one rhythm. Mileena could not be happier. She finally found peace.
Someone approached her from behind. She already knew who it was by feeling his hands over hers and hugging her body. “You need to get back to sleep, we will leave in a few hours” She rolled her eyes slightly and let out a small laugh at the typical protective behavior from him. “I know and I also know that I can not miss this magnificent view of the sunrise” He kissed her cheek and caressed her growing belly “He might not think the same. I am pretty sure he would prefer his mother to be sleeping right now” Mileena laughed at his response “He likes the sunrises just like his mother” He smiled as he imagined the three of them together. They stayed in that posture for a few minutes until he talked again “Let’s get back inside to rest until everyone wakes up” She nodded supporting his suggestion and when she was about to turn around and look at the man who would always caress her in every dream, she woke up.
She let out a whine of frustration as once again, she could not see the face of the man who was always with her. Mileena tried to get back to rest but it was impossible. She needs an answer to who this man is, the man whom she has always been dreaming about. She decided to get out of her bed as her thoughts filled her mind and she needed a glass of water.
The last person Mileena would like to face on her way to the kitchens in the middle of the night was Jessica Atreides “You are not supposed to be wandering the hallways at this hour. It is dangerous” Mileena stopped in her tracks and turned around to look at her “Castle Atreides has great security. Besides, any fool would dare to attack me taking into account who was my master” The older Bene Gesserit let out a small laugh and nodded at her response “That is correct, it stills intrigued what are you doing awake at this hour? Another dream perhaps?” Mileena denied it with her head “I was reading some books Paul got me yesterday about Arrakis and the Fremen. I lost track of time and I decided to get a glass of water before going to bed”
Jessica knew she was lying. She knew the girl did not want to talk about her dreams anymore, this started when Mileena got older and realized the context in which she is. She needed answers to her questions and nobody would give them to her. She wished to know who her mother was, and why she is always dreaming about that place and that man. The Bene Gesserit preferred to keep these answers away from her as they could be a trouble to the plans they have for her. “I supposed I would not interfere in your way. It is good you are learning about the Fremen and Arrakis. We will be there in a few days and we need to be prepared. You know you can tell me anything, Mileena. I am here for you” The girl thanked her and continued on her way.
She hoped she could believe her as she did when she was younger, things would be easier for her.
Omg this is the first fic I’ever written and it's not even on my first language😭I hope you like it and if you don’t bye bye 🤫🧏🏽♀️
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Heya! I saw that you’re requests were open, and I wanted to try at it?
I was wondering if you could do some general head canons for fem!na’vi reader who’s just super BUFF? Like, jacked. And just her living her life and occasionally carrying either neteyam, lo’ak, ao’nung, and/or whoever else you’d like to add? It’s alright if not!
Muscleloveranon out💪🏼
BOI! let me tell you something! I was itching to get to this one! And Finally this shall be answered! For this one, I was granted permission by non other than @artsofmetamoor !! sooooooooo...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME USE YOUR OC DRAWING FOR THIS! XD
Everyone please check this dude's blog too! I swear the art is AMAZING~!! Art'OfMetamoor , Hope you all enjoy~!! ^^
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Titxur
Near a river, a female na'vi sat down taking a break. She was hunting but no such luck at the moment. And is getting worried she wont find anything before dinner. She isn't far from where she left her dear daughter to play while she hunts. Best to get back to her child.
"mama?"
The na'vi hears the voice of her child and turns. "ma'ite what are you-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKK!!!"
Like nothing, and standing proudly with her prize, the young little na'vi girl was holding a dead slinger, as though the corpse did not weight a thing to her. All the while her mother did her best not to have a heart attack.
If you Were to ask anyone from the Omatikaya clan, "Who is the true mighty warrior?". You will most likely get different names, from Eytukan, Tsu'tey, Jake, or neteyam. Those answers are great ones, each warrior has their strengths and devotion that each of those men are fit to be called mighty warriors. But if you really want an answer, many will say "Titxur".
Titxur is what a mighty warrior should be. Strong body, but also a strong mind. Titxur is mighty in many ways, talented in archery, hunting, brutal in strength, humble, loyal, wrestling, and so much more. Her body reflects her training and talent. Na'vi in general are slender and thing. Yet strong and firm due to their environment. But Titxur? She is literally built DIFFERENT.
Her body has more muscle mass than even a male na'vi has. The body of a "body builder". True titxur isn't thin or petite like the others, however, titxur is very comfortable and proud of her body. She isn't afraid to flex her muscles if asked. Would even pick up grown up adults and swing them around with ease. Heck, she has even carried mo'at when requested! Titxur sees it as a honor to be relied in such a way.
But she does more than just carrying na'vi around, with ease and gracefulness, she can carry a direhorse or a hexapede like they weight nothing!
Titxur is well respected among the clan, and all warriors look up to her for everything. Very popular among the kids who often seek her for helping in their training.
Tsu'tey is close second to titxur, even he agrees that she deserves her title as might warrior. From new born to growing up, titxur lived a happy life, raised by loving parents and is proud to be who she is and where she is from. She of course was like all the other's when the sky demons arrived on their home. Destroying everything in their path. Titxur loves her forest and hates it when the humans tore down their home tree, took lives of the young children, she had seen her fair share of terror.
Yet she moves on, trying her best to not let the inner emotions cloud judgement. When jake sully returned to the clan as the new Toruk Makto, Titxur right then and there, swore her loyalty to him and thus putting her full faith on him in saving her people and her home.
So when the war was on, she fought with all her might, destroying all demon technologies, putting her sharpest arrows in the demon's heading. Roaring out in victory for every sky demon that has fallen. Aiding her fellow brothers and sisters, and pray for the na'vi that had fallen.
After the war, she assisted the wounded, but she also took a moment to mourn her fellow brother at arms, Tsu'tey. Strong he was but at last, he can rest with their great mother. The healing after the war was long, but she and her clan rebuild, restore and rise.
She bore scars from the war, and continue after. Each scar on her body tells a interesting story. Even silly ones. Not always is she a perfect warrior the clans views her to be.
Titxur is a person with a humor of course. The children are witness to it. Neteyam and other children would often seek her out and play. One of his fondest memories was the arm swinging.
"titxur! titxur!" neteyam runs towards the na'vi in question. Titxur was laying beside a tree, enjoying the warmth of the sun until she heard a familiar voice. Opening her eyes, she is greeted by not only neteyam but a few of his friends. Smiling to see the young ones, she sits up.
"Hello children, what brings you here today?" she asks kindly. Some of the children giggle in unison as neteyam asks, "can you play with us?". All the children asked "please" in a long manner. Who is titxur to reject such a request?
Chuckling to herself, she gets up stretching. "Of course little ones!" a choir of cheers came from the children. Leaning down, one child on each side grabs hold of her biceps tightly and she stands up swinging them around. Squeals of joy and laughter filled the air.
titxur spins around, watching the kids smile brightly, and she laughs along with them. Each child took their turn in swinging around, even neteyam had his turn and it was amazing!
After an hour or so of none stop playing, the kids and titxur had a little break snacking on fruits. Huddling around her, listening to the vast stories titxur loves to share.
"And then, without even meaning to, I let go of my arrow to early and it struck my teachers tail! he gave such a screech it almost rivals that of a irkan!" the children laugh at her tales, never getting old. Neteyam laughs as well, but wonders just how much can she carry...?
"LO'AK!!"
"NO NO NO NO!! STAY AWAY! STAY AWAY!!"
Lo'ak was no match for titxur's speed. For someone of her age, how can she run so fast? Lo'ak ran as fast as if his life depended on it. Jumping and climbing, he did everything to get away from the giant muscle woman.
Making a leap of faith, lo'ak jumped from the tree in hopes to land a high ground. Until he felt familiar strong arms grabbing him by the waist.
Faith is dead to him.
"Lo'ak! my young tulkun rider~!!" titxur snuggles him and spins him around like a sack of beads. Lo'ak was blushing madly in embarrassment. Because in front of him was his girlfriend tsireya, who was currently looking away, terribly hiding her laughter.
Ao'nung and rotxo on the other hand?
Laughing their asses off.
"awe~ enjoy being carried like a baby??" ao'nung teases while still cackling away. Neteyam wanted to laugh but he too knows what lo'ak is feeling at the moment. And is too prideful now to be carried like how he used to.
Titxur turns to ao'nung and grins, "would you like to be carried like a baby too?". Before ao'nung could react, in a swift movement, he was already up in her arms and being swung around. Tsireya couldn't hold it any longer and let her who soul out to laugh like never before.
Tuk and kiri were enjoy whole scene, tuk using a special camera norm gifted her. Making sure to take every second in pictures. Oh this will be a story to tell with her friends.
"PUT ME DOWN!! I AM THE SON OF THE OLO'EYKTAN!! PUT ME DOWN!!" ao'nung shouted, trying to get titxur to stop the humiliation. But titxur just laughs in amusement, "and so is lo'ak, what makes you think your title will stop me? I have carried many people, even tsahik's! so relax child".
After finally putting down the two boys, with no shame whatsoever, tsireya and tuk run up to titxur asking for their turns to be swung around. Who is titxur to turn down such a request?
Aaaaaaaaand that is it for this one! I hope this is good cause I have re-written this one too many times! Let me know what you guys think! Yes, I used mitsuri's childhood flashback for the beginning from demon slayer XD until next time! see ya!
Titxur = Strength, power
#avatar#avatar the way of water#avatar 2#lo'ak#kiri#lo'ak x reader#na'vi x reader#na'vi avatar#na'vi oc#na'vi#neteyam x reader#kiri x y/n#kiri x you#kiri x reader#tuk sully#tuktirey#tuk tuk#lo'ak x oc#lo'ak x y/n#lo'ak x you#lo'ak x tsireya#lo'ak x fem!reader#tsireya#tsireya x y/n#tsireya x reader#ao'nung x y/n#ao'nung#ao'nung x you#rotxo#rotxo x reader
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No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her.
Jacaerys Velaryon x oc!fem Targtower. Part two,
-part one, here:
https://www.tumblr.com/camlovesjace/747473041907449856/no-grave-can-hold-my-body-down-ill-crawl-home-to?source=share
WARNING: war stuff, violence, grief, etc.
SINOPSIS: Cellys thinks Jacaerys is dead, the whole kingdom mourns the crowned prince while the war pushes everyone and everything apart. All must choose.
The days were a torture, the nights even more. His face seemed to haunt her anywhere she could look at, his honey eyes, those who capture her whole heart and tempted her to worship him until her last breathe. The lords were ashamed, like if the biggest burden were resting on theirs shoulders, and how could they not feel like that? Even the white haired girl felt ashamed, ashamed of being alive while Jace wasn´t. It felt totally wrong...to be in a world without his presence, to know that her name will never come out of his mouth, that his hands will never touch her again, that his gaze will never find her own in this lifetime once again.
Aegon and her mother moved from forced to stay into her bechambers to force her to get out of them, but Cellys wasn't really interested in keep pretending that a piece of her had not die with Jace. The sheets of her bed were glued to her skin, in a mix of tears and pain, her cries in the moonlight kept the whole castle awake. Her sobbing were a constant reminder of the life this was was stealing from them. Not only the lives of those who fight for the greens, but also to their enemies. The lost of Jacaerys Velaryon, prince of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne, was a stab in the guts of everyone.
Maester Eustace stayed loyal to the young boy, claiming him as legitimate and denying the comments of those who dare to call him bastard, even if those rumors were true or not. Aegon knew Cellys would be destroyed and devastated, and it was happening in front of his eyes. She barely ate, her pale skin turned into a gray almost lifeless, her white hair was silver and her eyes seemed empty. All the rage in her stopped suddenly, it was like if she were a shelf of the old fearless princess who always had something to say.
Seeing her like this wasn´t usual at all.
Now it was all silence, empty and breaking silence. No words, no fight, just a deep whole of darkness. And she was not fighting against it, Cellys was just letting it ate her.
"No, mother..." she spoke, refusing the petition of the old green queen about walking in the gardens. Her voice was slow, hoarse from all the crying of the last night. Half a moon had passed since the death of the eldest son of Rhaenya and Cellys Targaryen was already rotting from inside.
"Do you want to keep living like this?" Alicent asked, yet her question didn't get any answer from her younger daughter "He...he was..." she spoke but when the young woman gaze her she closed her mouth, unsure if her words would help or make her feel worse.
"Do no insult him in front of me" Cellys said, thinking about the worst.
"I was not about to insult him" the old queen said, sighing "I know how much you cared about him, i know it...but he wouldn't want you to consume yourself with the pain of his death"
Cellys knew Jace would not want that, if he would be here he would literally pick her up from bed and take her to take sunlight, he would try to distract her with anything to not let her felt alone. He would want to her to live, and move on...to find happiness again.
But he wasn't there, and that was the most unbearable feeling.
Cellys doesn´t know if Rhaenyra found his body, or if the sea sank him. The thought of his body alone, cold and forlorn made her want to die as well.
"I..." she whispers, but the knot on her throat cut off any words, she wanted to cry but the sore on her eyes was painful. She wanted to ask her mother to let her go to Dragonstone, to talk with Rhaenyra and...at least, confess that her heart the one of his son were one. Even if a marriage didn´t tied them officially, their souls were one.
But now she was only a half of that soul, cursed to try to find a glimpse of him her whole life.
He never made her his own, her womb never carried and never will carry a child of his, his blood and flesh. And she will have nothing to remember him but her own memories, that will deteriorate every moon, every second.
She missed him, and she wouldn't doubt to die instead of him in any chance she could get.
His lungs were sore, every breath felt like the slowest torture. His eyes were still closed, soft gasps rolled out of his tongue when the unknown hands on his back moved to heal his wounds. The pain on his chest was overwhelming, and yet his mind was consumed by her face.
"Cel..." he says, but a gasp of pain cut his words, his whole body aching while the soft cries ran out of his mouth "Cellys"
He called her, hopeful to hear her voice against his ear, to see her face, but the touch of those hands weren´t hers. The warmth was not the same as the one she has.
"Eis baos han daar" an old woman said and he couldn´t understand her, the language was something he'd never heard before.
-the boy had woke up-
"Han esse jeiclis?" someone asked -is he still hurted?-. Jace felt a wave of cold sweat ran over his back, he stayed there, trying to not be seen like a threat. But that voice, the voice of a man, was very familiar.
"Naor, we essese kao jeiciness" again, the woman who was taking care of his wound spoke those new words. -yes, but he will heal-
He opened his eyes, breathing heavily and biting his lower lip to hold on a cry of pain. He felt embarrassed for being crying like this like a child but the pain was too much to handle. Then a man kneel beside him and the face of Lord Stark blind him for a second, until the feeling of relieved hit him. A soft smile showed up on his face and Jacaerys tried to do the same yet he was sure that it must have looked like a grimace.
"Prince" The man said, almost proud to see that he survived. The arrows on his back looked bad but he was awake and that was a good sight.
"Cregan" Jace says back, he tried to get up from the small mattress but his friend stopped him, shaking softly his head. The background sound were a mix of man's speaking and horses noises, it was an army...
"No, stay there, you need to heal" he spoke and then his dark eyes found his own, and everything that needed to be said spoke for itself in between their gaze. Both knew what will happen next, and Jace was ready to face it, to get back his mother and his own birthright...and to take his woman back to his arms, where she belonged "We have came to fight for our dragon queen"
#hotd#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon#jacaerys x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#dance of the dragons#aegon ii targaryen#harry collett#hotd jacaerys#jacaerys targaryen#cregan stark#baela targaryen#lucerys velaryon#alicent hightower#a song of ice and fire#game of thrones#daenerys targaryen#daemon targeryan#aemond targaryen#house targaryen#aegon targaryen#house stark
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snow on the beach
a finnick odair x fem!oc series
summary : in the heart of the capitol's glittering deception, Giselle Snow, granddaughter of president coriolanus snow, conceals her true emotions while working to undermine the hunger games. sent to district 4 after the 74th Games, she grapples with forbidden love for district 4's Finnick Odair. Snow on the beach is weird but fucking beautiful – Giselle is the snow, Finnick is the beach, an unexpected yet perfect harmony in the delicate ballet of their existence. as the quarter quell unfolds, panem becomes a battleground for love and rebellion, and Giselle faces a choice that will alter destinies and unravel the threads of her past.
content warnings: swearing, mild smut, violence, death, torture, mentions of sex trafficking, weapons, trauma, mental illnesses
genre: angst, romance, forbidden love, violence, hurt/comfort
chapters: 1-flecks of lights , 2-life is emotionally abusive , 3-time cant stop me quite like u did
chapter 2 : life is emotionally abusive
The people of District 4 greeted Katniss and Peeta as they stepped off the train for their Victory Tour. Giselle, with an air of poised authority, her posture commanding respect, stood at the forefront to welcome them. Cameras followed their every move, capturing the supposed harmony of the Capitol’s facade.
With an air of quiet strength, Giselle extended a delicate hand to welcome Katniss and Peeta. “Welcome to District 4. I’m Giselle Snow, overseeing the affairs of this district.”
The atmosphere was different from the other districts they had visited. As the cameras trailed their every move, Giselle’s blue eyes, mirroring the despised lineage she carried, maintained a stoic composure. Her poise was unwavering, a testament to the Capitol’s meticulous training.
Katniss, known for her keen instincts, sensed something unique about Giselle. The way the district residents looked at her, the unspoken understanding in the air – it was evident that Giselle was more than just a Capitol puppet.
Giselle continued, her words carrying a weight of responsibility. “District 4 has faced its share of challenges too. They find hope in various places, not just in the Capitol's spotlight.”
Katniss, intrigued, exchanged a glance with Peeta. Giselle's words resonated differently from the usual diplomatic scripts they encountered. There was a genuine strength in her, a leader who saw beyond the Capitol's narrative.
As Giselle guided them through the district, her interactions with the residents showcased a different kind of connection. She spoke of resilience, community, and a shared vision for a better Panem. The people listened with unwavering trust, their admiration for Giselle extending beyond the reason that she is a part of the president’s legacy.
The atmosphere carried a sense of controlled leadership, and the cameras drank in the illusion of unity. Giselle, aware that her every move would be scrutinized by Capitol eyes, played her part with practiced precision.
Katniss, observing Giselle from a distance, couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship. There was a quiet understanding between them, an acknowledgment that they both carried burdens and hopes beyond the Capitol's expectations. The cameras captured the carefully orchestrated scenes of unity, but Katniss, attuned to the subtlest of nuances, recognized that Giselle was more than the Snow name she bore.
Leading the district with a firm yet graceful hand, Giselle’s gestures exuded a quiet assurance that belied her petite stature. The Capitol might see her as an obedient Snow, but Katniss, with her discerning gaze, recognized the subtle nuances that hinted at a conflict within Giselle – a struggle to maintain the facade while harboring a more profound truth. Despite the polished exterior, she caught glimpses of something more. In the subtle cracks of Giselle's composure, Katniss saw vulnerability. A flicker of emotion that betrayed the Capitol facade.
As the visit unfolded, Katniss turned to Peeta, a subtle gleam playing in her eyes yet her face expressionless. “There's something about Giselle. I have a good feeling about her.”
Peeta, equally perceptive, nodded in agreement. The visit to District 4 had revealed a leader who, like Katniss and Peeta, recognized the power of hope amidst the Capitol's shadows. In Giselle, they found an unexpected ally, a person from the capitol who saw beyond the facade and shared a vision for change in Panem.
As Katniss and Peeta boarded the Capitol-bound train for their next Victory Tour stop, Katniss couldn't shake the impressions of their visit to District 4. She found herself deep in thought, staring out the window as the landscape blurred into a ribbon of green.
Peeta, noticing her contemplation, gently asked, “What's on your mind, Katniss?”
Katniss turned to him, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern. “Giselle Snow. She is Snow’s granddaughter right ? There's something about her that's different, Peeta. Did you see it?”
Peeta nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, she doesn’t feel like a part of the Capitol. There's a strength in her, a sense of purpose beyond the Games. It’s almost like she wasn’t born and raised by Snow.”
As they settled into their compartment, Haymitch, nursing a drink, sauntered in. Katniss, determined to share her observations, spoke up, “Haymitch, have you ever talked to Giselle Snow?”
Haymitch, raising an eyebrow, took a swig from his flask. “Giselle Snow, the granddaughter of President Snow himself. Yeah, I've heard of her of course. She's got connections close to the top, closer than most. But she's not your typical Capitol socialite.”
Katniss, intrigued, asked, “But she's not like them. I can feel it. There’s a look to her eyes that reminds me of us. The hurt. It’s not like a secret agenda. It’s a look of humanity.”
Haymitch, a seasoned observer of the Capitol's machinations, leaned back in his seat. “Katniss, Giselle is a different kind of player in this game. She's got the Capitol's ear, but she's not like her grandfather. Only a few people can see it. She’s soft. She's not in it just for the spectacle.”
Peeta, joining the conversation, inquired, “Why is she so important to them?”
Haymitch, with a cynical smile, explained, “She's family. President Snow's granddaughter. But Giselle's got a mind of her own. She plays the Capitol's game, but she's rewriting the rules in her own way.”
Katniss, processing this information, murmured, “She's a puzzle. I can't figure out where her loyalties truly lie.”
Haymitch, with a knowing glint in his eyes, concluded, “Giselle is playing a dangerous game. She's a key player in the Capitol's politics, and yet, she's the wild card they can't control. Keep an eye on her, Katniss. She might just be the ally we didn't know we needed.”
As the train sped towards the next district, Katniss contemplated the enigma that was Giselle Snow. In the intricate dance of power within the Capitol, Giselle stood at the nexus – a figure of importance, yet a puzzle of contradictions that could potentially sway the tides of Panem's destiny.
The day had been a symphony of forced smiles and scripted words for Giselle as she played her part, maintaining the Capitol's facade during her interactions with the District 4 residents. They, perceptive and resilient, recognized the act she put on, their eyes reflecting the stark contrast between the Capitol's expectations and Giselle's true self.
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Giselle, free from the watchful eyes of the Capitol, found herself walking along the shoreline towards her living chambers. The weight of the day's performance bore heavily on her shoulders, and the facade she wore to protect herself from the Capitol's scrutiny started to crumble.
When she thought she was alone, the mask fell away. Giselle's composed demeanor shattered, and tears welled in her eyes as she allowed herself to feel the weight of the charade she was forced to maintain. The sea, a silent witness, echoed the turmoil within her.
Unbeknownst to Giselle, Finnick, having sensed her distress, followed discreetly. As she walked with heavy steps, shoulders slumped, he approached her cautiously. "Giselle?"
She turned, her eyes red from unshed tears. In that moment, the District 4 people's recognition of her act became inconsequential as Finnick saw the vulnerability that lay beneath.
Without a word, Finnick pulled her into an embrace, allowing her to release the pent-up emotions that the Capitol demanded she suppress. Giselle, in the safety of his arms, felt a cathartic release, the weight of expectations momentarily lifted.
Finnick spoke softly, "You don't have to be what they want you to be. Not here."
Giselle, her voice choked with emotion, whispered, "I'm so tired of pretending. I just want to be myself."
Finnick, understanding her struggle, gently wiped away her tears. "Then be yourself, Giselle. District 4 sees you, not the Capitol puppet."
In that vulnerable moment, Giselle found solace in Finnick's presence. She looked up at him, her eyes searching for understanding. "Stay with me tonight, Finnick. I don't want to be alone."
He nodded, wordlessly conveying his willingness to offer comfort. As they walked towards her living chambers, the sea whispered its approval of the genuine connection blossoming between them.
In the quietude of Giselle's chambers, Finnick's presence became a beacon of solace. As they stood facing each other, the unspoken understanding lingered in the air. Giselle, overcome by a surge of emotions, pressed her lips against Finnick's in a tender, yet passionate, kiss – a culmination of shared vulnerabilities and the promise of an authentic connection that transcended the constraints of their worlds.
As Giselle and Finnick sat in the quietude of her living chambers, the topic of conversation naturally drifted towards the world they inhabited, the Capitol's machinations, and the recent victors, Katniss and Peeta. The evening air held a certain weight, a prelude to the impending announcement of the 75th Hunger Games.
Giselle, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon, spoke with a contemplative tone. "Katniss and Peeta changed something, didn't they? There's a shift in the air, something different about this time."
Finnick, leaning against the wall, nodded in agreement. "They defied the Capitol in a way no one expected. Katniss especially, she sparked something in the districts."
A subtle tension enveloped the room as they discussed the changing dynamics of Panem. Giselle, though intrigued by the possibility of change, couldn't shake the underlying fear that accompanied it. “It's different, Finnick. I can feel it. But that uncertainty scares me.”
He looked at her, his expression mirroring a mix of understanding and concern. “Change is always unsettling, especially when you're part of a system that thrives on control. But maybe that's what we need – a shift in the balance of power.”
As they delved deeper into their reflections on the world outside, the conversation shifted towards the impending announcement of the 75th Hunger Games – the dreaded Quarter Quell. Unbeknownst to them, the Capitol's plans for this edition had taken a dark turn, but in their isolation from Capitol whispers, Giselle and Finnick remained oblivious.
Giselle's voice carried a hint of apprehension. "The 75th Hunger Games... I can't shake the feeling that it's going to be different, that the Capitol will respond to the defiance with even more brutality."
Finnick's gaze bore into hers, a shared concern etched on his features. "Whatever happens, Giselle, we'll face it together. We can't let fear dictate our actions."
Little did they know that the impending Quarter Quell would hold a cruel twist, and the world they thought they understood would be upended. In their unity against an uncertain future, Giselle and Finnick found strength, unaware of the storm that awaited them in the Capitol's machinations.
Amidst the coastal backdrop of District 4, Giselle and Finnick found a stolen moment of respite from the weight of their respective worlds. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of gold and pink across the sky, and the rhythmic sound of waves provided a soothing melody to the evening.
Finnick, ever the charmer, flashed a playful grin at Giselle. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be the granddaughter of the big bad Snow, you're surprisingly good company."
Giselle chuckled, a genuine sound that danced in the twilight air. "And for someone known for charming everyone in the Capitol, you're not as insufferable as I thought."
They strolled along the shoreline, the wet sand cool beneath their feet. Finnick couldn't resist the temptation to be a bit cheeky. "Well, it seems the Capitol's reputation doesn't quite match reality, does it?"
Giselle glanced at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Maybe I'm just an exception."
Finnick raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Oh, an exception, huh? I thought I had a monopoly on charm."
She nudged him playfully. "You do, but I can appreciate it without falling for it."
Under the soft glow of district lights, Giselle and Finnick found a moment of solace amidst the tumultuous world around them. The night air carried a gentle breeze that played with Giselle's raven tendrils as she stood by the shore, looking out at the tranquil sea.
Finnick approached with that effortless charm that had become his trademark. "You know," he began, a playful glint in his sea-green eyes, "I heard once that the sea has a way of washing away all worries. Want to give it a try?"
Giselle smiled, charmed by the lightheartedness of the suggestion. "Are you suggesting a midnight swim, Finnick Odair?"
Finnick grinned, his charm radiating like the moonlight reflecting on the water. "Maybe. Or maybe just a stroll along the beach with the most captivating woman in District 4."
The compliment caught Giselle off guard, and she chuckled softly. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Odair."
As they walked along the shoreline, the laughter flowed freely, unburdened by the weight of their respective roles. They shared a lighthearted moment that defied the gravity of their worlds. In that fleeting instant, the distinctions between Capitol and District, Snow and Odair, faded away, leaving only the simplicity of two people drawn together by a connection that transcended their origins.
Finnick, ever the charmer, couldn't resist teasing. "You know, Giselle, I've been trying to figure out if the sea is more unpredictable or you."
Giselle rolled her eyes playfully. “Excuse me. You mean whether it is the sea or you! I'd say the sea and the Finnick Odair are two of the same thing.”
Finnick Odair, much like the sea, possessed an unpredictable allure that drew people into his depths. With his sun-kissed hair and sea-green eyes, he mirrored the colors of the ocean on a calm day. His laughter echos like the soothing rhythm of waves, lulling those around him into a sense of comfort.
Yet, beneath the surface, there was a wild and untamed quality to Finnick, akin to the unpredictability of the sea during a storm. His charm, like the ebb and flow of the tide, could be both gentle and tumultuous. Just as the sea held secrets in its depths, Finnick concealed layers of complexity beneath his charismatic exterior.
In his presence, one could sense the vastness of experiences he carried, much like the sea carrying the whispers of distant shores. Finnick was magnetic, drawing people toward him with the gravitational force of the tide, and, just like the sea, he held the power to leave an indelible mark on those who dared to explore the depths of his soul.
They continued their stroll, the sound of waves providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. In that fleeting moment, romance hung in the air like a delicate fragrance, and the barriers that divided them seemed to dissolve, leaving only the shared warmth of newfound connection.
Under the moonlit sky, Giselle and Finnick found themselves drawn to the edge of the sea, the rhythmic sounds of the waves creating a natural melody. The air was filled with a sense of anticipation, and the moon cast a silver sheen on the water, inviting them to immerse themselves in the beauty of the night.
Finnick, always one for spontaneity, flashed a mischievous grin. "Ever swum under the stars, Giselle?"
She couldn't help but smile in return, captivated by the allure of the moment. "Can't say that I have, Finnick."
Without another word, Finnick began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his physique. Giselle watched, her heart quickening, as he kicked off his shoes and waded into the water. The cool embrace of the sea welcomed him, and he turned to Giselle with an outstretched hand.
"Care to join me?" he invited, his eyes sparkling with a combination of playfulness and something deeper.
Giselle, feeling a rush of excitement, kicked off her shoes and shed her outer layers, leaving herself in the simplicity of undergarments and joined him in the water. The sea was surprisingly warm, and the cool night air created a contrast that heightened their senses. They swam side by side, the moonlight casting shimmering reflections on the surface.
The soft glow highlighted the curves that adorned Giselle’s figure, a significance to her resilience and undeniable beauty. As Finnick looked at her, he found himself captivated by the authenticity of her form—no pretense, just the raw elegance of a woman comfortable in her own skin.
Drawn by an irresistible pull, Finnick pulled her into the sea, his arms enveloping her as he whispered, "You're beautiful, Giselle." In that moment, the waves carried away any insecurities, leaving only the genuine connection between two souls discovering the depth of their attraction amidst the tranquil dance of the water.
As they floated, Giselle's laughter echoed in the night. Finnick, captivated by the genuine joy on her face, couldn't resist the urge to draw her closer. Their laughter turned into shared whispers, secrets exchanged in the intimate embrace of the sea.
With a tender touch, Finnick brushed a strand of wet hair away from Giselle's face. "You know," he murmured, his voice a soft caress, "I've never felt more alive than in this moment."
Giselle, gazing into his sea-green eyes, felt a warmth spread through her. The world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them suspended in time. The midnight swim became a dance of connection, the sea bearing witness to a romance that blossomed under the stars.
The soft glow of the television illuminated Finnick's cozy home in District 4 as Giselle sat on the couch wearing one of Finnick's shirts, a subtle intimacy that went unnoticed by the world. He, shirtless and in sweatpants, joined her, and they found themselves nestled in each other's arms, a silent comfort that transcended the Capitol's expectations.
As they tuned into the Capitol broadcast, the charismatic Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen, announcing the engagement of Katniss and Peeta. Giselle watched with a certain detachment, knowing the public facade all too well.
Finnick, leaning back against the couch, scoffed at the display of affection. "You really think they're in love, Giselle? It's all for the cameras. A survival tactic."
Giselle, tracing idle patterns on Finnick's chest, defended, "Survival is different for everyone, Finnick. Katniss and Peeta are just doing what they need to. It doesn't mean their feelings aren't genuine."
Finnick, a hint of bitterness in his voice, countered, “Genuine? In the Capitol, everything's a game. Love, loyalty, it's all just a show for them.”
Giselle, looking into his sea-green eyes, insisted, “Not everyone is playing the Capitol's game the same way. Katniss and Peeta have faced unimaginable challenges. Their love, even if it's a performance, is a form of resistance.”
Finnick, his skepticism apparent, remarked, “Resistance or not, I've seen enough lies in the Capitol to doubt anything genuine. It's all a charade, Giselle.”
She sighed, understanding the jaded perspective he had acquired in the Capitol. “We're all navigating this world in our own way, Finnick. Sometimes survival means playing along, even if it feels like you're compromising yourself.”
As they continued watching the televised spectacle, the weight of their shared secrets and unspoken connection hung in the air. In the quiet of Finnick's home, Giselle and Finnick found solace in each other, aware that their bond, hidden from the public eye, was a refuge in a world where survival demanded more than just physical strength.
In the midst of their argument about Katniss and Peeta's engagement, a sudden tension gripped the air. Giselle, her gaze fixed on the television screen, questioned with a hint of vulnerability, “Is this just a game for us too, Finnick?”
Finnick, caught off guard, faltered for a moment. The weight of unspoken truths lingered in the room, and in that awkward silence, Giselle withdrew from his embrace. She rose to her feet, slipping out of the oversized shirt she had worn, and began to dress in her own clothes.
Finnick, a conflicted expression on his face, didn't offer any immediate reassurance. The realization that their connection, as genuine as it felt, could be perceived as a game unsettled the usually composed victor.
Giselle, finishing the task of dressing, looked at him with a mix of hurt and disappointment. “I thought we were different, Finnick.”
He hesitated, the words caught in his throat, but before he could respond, Giselle turned and left his house. The door closed with a quiet finality, leaving Finnick alone in the dimly lit room.
For a moment, he stood there, contemplating the weight of their unspoken relationship. The Capitol's influence, the games they played, the blurred lines of genuine emotion – it all swirled in his mind, leaving him conflicted.
As Giselle walked away from Finnick's home, a cloud of negativity hung over her. The vulnerability she had shared seemed to echo in the emptiness of the night. Surrounded by the district's tranquility, she couldn't shake the feeling that even what they had could be seen as part of the Capitol's intricate game.
Finnick, though torn, remained in his home, unable to chase after her. The complexities of their unspoken connection weighed heavily on both of them, leaving the lingering question of whether they were just players in a game where the rules were set by the Capitol, or if there was something genuine beneath the surface.
In the quiet hours of the night, Giselle wandered through the corridors of District 4's Victor Village, the dimly lit streets amplifying the silence that surrounded her. Despite the grandeur of her position as President Snow's granddaughter, a profound loneliness clung to her like a shadow.
She had no true friends, nobody to share the burdens and secrets she carried. The Capitol's intricate web of politics and power had woven her into a position of influence, yet it left her isolated, a puppet without genuine connections.
As Giselle passed the lavish houses of fellow victors, she couldn't help but feel like an outsider. The laughter and camaraderie that echoed through the Victor Village seemed distant, a melody she couldn't quite join.
Her role in the Capitol, the expectations of her family, and the weight of her responsibilities had left her with no confidantes. The residents of the district admired her, but their adoration was a facade, a reflection of the Capitol's influence rather than a testament to genuine companionship.
Even her complex connection with Finnick, the one person who seemed to understand her in the midst of the Capitol's complexities, added to the isolation. Their unspoken bond, though filled with a unique intimacy, couldn't fully bridge the gap between the roles they played in the Capitol's political theater.
The emptiness she felt was a heavy burden, a silent ache that accompanied her in the solitude of her grand home. The walls, adorned with opulence, seemed to close in on her, amplifying the profound isolation she carried.
As Giselle gazed out at the moonlit sea, the waves crashing against the shore mirrored the tumult within her. Despite the Capitol's attempts to mold her into a figurehead of influence, she yearned for genuine connections, for someone to see beyond the political games and acknowledge the vulnerability beneath her poised exterior.
In the absence of true friendships, Giselle navigated the Capitol's corridors like a ghost, always present yet hauntingly alone. The silence that enveloped her became a constant companion, a stark reminder of the isolation that accompanied her status. Even in the midst of her complex connection with Finnick, the genuine connection she sought remained elusive, leaving her to grapple with the weight of her existence in the Capitol's unforgiving embrace.
#finnick odair#finnick x reader#hunger games#thg#the hunger games#finnick odair x oc#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair fanfic#tbosas#tom blyth#young coriolanus snow#sam claflin#snow on the beach#taylor swift#lana del rey
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SWEET SUMMER ORANGE
Targaryen Dynasty x Fem!Teen!OC
"Green must find her way to orange, or all is lost. The dragons will dance and die, surrounded by fire and blood."
Multiple Main Pairings!
Main Focus ~ Fem!OC and Targaryen Dynasty (Yandere, Obsessive, Protective)
Warnings ~ Self Harm, Physical Abuse, Mental Abuse, Grooming, and Otto Hightower!
Spoilers ~ Tons!!
Masterpost ~ Here.
Beta Read/Edited ~ No (No Beta Lmao)
Word Count ~ 1.2k Words.
Chp 2 Summary ~ With the Sea Snake, Corlys Velaryon, fatally injured, the question of succession to The Driftwood Throne is amiss. Vaemond Velaryon calls Lucerys Velaryon's legitimacy into question, Otto favors this action as Vaemond is an asset to the Greens. Alicent Hightower is drowned in green guilt for just a moment before being reminded who she is by her father.
Chp 2 ~ Her Mother's Daughter, Her Father's Dog
Lord Corlys has taken a fatal injury in the second battle of The Stepstones.
Alicent draws a harsh breath at the revelation, hands coming up to her temples as she listens to the Lord's drone about the news that came from Ravens.
Her Father and the other small council Lords spoke of Vaemond Velaryon's note, asking to petition Lucerys Velaryon's claim to the Driftwood Throne in turn for his own.
The King has remained unaware of these new developments as he remains sedated on the milk of the poppy.
Alicent's hands start to shake as she folds them, reminding herself to not pick at her fingers delicate flesh.
She interrupts their conversation, “Lord Corlys has always remained adamant on the Prince Lucerys inheriting the Driftwood Throne, this petition is out of question,” She states, eyes looking at the sheep that flock to her Father.
The man rolls his council marble between his fingers, looking at Alicent with a pinched look on his face, “You are all dismissed,” his baritone voice cuts through the tension thickening in the room.
The other lords stand, placing their marbles in the dish and filing out of the room with two knights and Ser Criston closing the door.
Otto's eyes start to resemble hardened emeralds as they darken.
“Vaemond Velaryon can be a sure ally to The Throne,” Otto starts, folding his hands over one another with a smug arrogance gracing his aura.
Alicent looks back into her Father's confident green eyes with disbelief inside her hazel eyes. “And Lucerys Velaryon will not be to his Grandsire?” Alicent tries to convince herself that her Father is not once more uttering potentially treasonous words.
Otto Hightower believes his daughter is just as naive as she was when she was just Rhaenyra Targaryen's pet – now she is the Queen, thanks to his advancements.
His darling child is a flashing image of her mother; naivety and self-righteousness dripping from her mouth and bleeding from her eyes.
Otto stands, walking closer to his auburn-haired child and her breath holds as she looks up at his form in front of her.
The man wonders how none of his children got the notion that they had to take history into their own hands. That is how he raised the Hightower name higher than ever before.
Their green is their legacy and they would cover every inch of Westeros eventually.
“When will you learn Alicent?” His top lip furls back and his teeth bare like an animal as he hisses his proclamation, “After the reign of the King Viserys, Aegon–”
Alicent's hands slam on the white stone table.
“That boy is not fit to rule!” Alicent speaks the truth, tears shining in her eyes as her father looks at her with disgust.
Her throat wells with a sob that aches to escape, she didn't want any of this. She didn't want anything to do with the political Game of Thrones.
Otto seizes her shoulders, the long sleeves of her green dress ruffled as he pulls her close to his face.
Otto enjoyed seeing the oxygen leave his child's body as she stood still with fear.
In truth, he had never hit Alicent.
Well.
Maybe once, but it was an accident of course. He swore to The Seven it was.
It was her fault for being born to look so much like her mother with those big puppy eyes and long brown hair.
It was like staring at the split image of a woman who once breathed to hurt and curled around the warmth harm gave her.
With the way her self-righteousness and narcissism dictated her decisions, Alicent was bound to listen to the vipers whisper til the day she died.
Otto just hoped that day would happen after Aegon's son, Jaehaerys, took the Iron Throne. The boy was promising just like the first King Jaehaerys, peaceful and light was his soul.
He had never harmed his daughter, who favored her late Mother so much, that it made his youngest son call Alicent Mother.
Foolish was that boy anyway in Otto's opinion.
He carried out orders well and was the prime example of a follower. The Hand's green eyes shined in delight at that though.
If only Alicent did not have her mothers questioning nature.
If only he didn't have to pull the same tricks up his sleeve to quell her compassion for the Blacks.
“He is the challenge, Alicent,” Anger spiked in Otto's veins as he shook his child where she sat.
“Just by breathing he is at stake. Would you like to see your children's head a fucking spike?” Otto Hightower was good at manipulation, especially towards his daughter.
He could see as Alicent's hazel eyes crested over forest green, she thought of her past relationship with the heir-to-be.
Alicent had convinced herself long ago that her relationship with the Dragonstone Princess ruined everything for her future.
Petty lies led to waging war through the color of dress skirts and sharp remarks.
A dog is what Alicent was, a puppy with wide eyes that would forever heel to her master's call.
Otto praised himself for having the girl on a long leash when she was younger; only to tighten it when she inevitably didn't know how to fix her broken relationship with the Princess.
Alicent would be lost without his wisdom.
“And your grandchildren would be next!” For the next act, Otto lays on a thick wet rasp that infiltrates his tone as he breaks eye contact with Alicent, and moves to walk out the door.
“My great grandchildren… I refuse to fail them as a Grandsire.” The man clears his throat and sighs with fake exhaustion as he runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair, graying with age.
“We will speak of this matter on the marrow, Alicent,” His hand curls his fingers around the door slowly and –
“Father, please,” Otto shifts his eyes to see Alicents that look upon him with defeat.
She walks around the Small council table and stands in front of him like a meek woman.
“You are right. Vaemond Velaryon will be a fine asset.” The Green Queen's poison escapes her as she whispers, hands clasped around each other as she stares down at them.
Otto could smell his victory approaching as the days went on and the King got more ill.
The Maesters believed it was only a matter of time.
Alicent could feel guilt swimming in her stomach as she fiddled with her fingers.
The silver Hand to the King appointed pin stared back at the woman with a mocking gesture; her station is all she would be.
Maybe she should just allow it to consume her already like it did her Father.
“Do not lower your head Alicent. You are Queen,” He lifts her head with his hands, his wax seal ring brushing her jaw.
Alicent slowly breathes out and recites a prayer inside her head, praying to the Seven as Alicent – Not Queen Hightower.
“Vaemond will arrive in two days time, Rhaenyra and her brood in four. Court will be held on the fifth day. Rest daughter, we have much to discuss.”
Otto leaves Alicent in pieces in the small council discussion room, her heart in her hands and head mushed on the floor.
Old dogs did not learn new tricks; they played the ones they knew over and over, until one day, they wouldn't move ever again for their masters.
#yandere house of the dragon#house targaryen#the house of the dragon#hotd#hotd lucerys#hotd fandom#hotd aemond#aemond x lucerys#lucemond#rhaenyra x alicent#queen rhaenyra#daemon x rhaenyra#rhaenyra targaryen#jace x cregan#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#otto hightower#corlys velaryon#the sea snake#greens vs blacks#alicent hightower#visenya targaryen#aegon iii targaryen#jaehaera targaryen#jaehaerys targaryen#gaemon palehair#fuck viserys#viserys ii targaryen#joffrey velaryon#baela and rhaena
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Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt.13
(Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader × Cersei Lannister. TW: violence)
(BTW: I have officially made an AO3 account that I will be transferring this story to as an OC fic. I will be continuing the fic here as an x Reader fic as well. I will include the link on Pt.14)
AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340
The Hand's Tourney was set to be the event of the year.
Members of all the high and low noble families had gathered in the Keep, and hopeful knights old and young entered their names into the lists.
You were so glad Sandor wasn't one of them.
You knew how strong he was, and how skilled with his sword. But you didn't think you could stomach watching on the side lines as some hedge knight tried to take chunks from the notorious Hound.
Cersei had insisted on picking out your dress for the tourney, as it would be the first time you would be presented to all of the noble families. The gown itself was rose pink satin and the bodice and sleeves clung tightly to you. Over this, a maid laced a cloth of gold over bodice intricately decorated with silk rosettes. Your slippers were gold as well, also decorated with rosettes.
Cersei also urged you to let her maids braid your hair as was popular with the other noble ladies, which you agreed to so long as your head didn't end up looking like a beehive.
"Unfortunately, it would be poor form for us to sit together." Cersei bemoaned, "But consider this your first challenge to face alone."
"Yes, your grace" You balled up bits of your skirt into your palms, which were sweating from nerves.
Sandor was to stand guard of the royal family. Cersei was to sit next to the king. Which left you alone for the first time in quite a while, and in unfamiliar waters.
"Now, do you remember what I told you?" Cersei came up from behind you in the mirror, letting her fingers play with the delicate braids the maid had finished pinning into place.
"Avoid the small counsel members, except maybe Renly who's harmless enough. Don't start conversations but don't ignore someone trying to talk to me either. And if a knight asks for my favor, it's impolite to refuse....I don't think Sandor would like that one."
"Oh," Cersei scoffed, "Favors are one of the few exceptions to the rule. As long as it's clear that you're loyal to your husband, it's just innocent fun."
"If you say so" You bit your lip. Your favor was a simple wreath of paper flowers meant to go over a knight's lance for good luck in battle. You rather doubted it would be put to any use.
The start of the tourney itself was delayed for various reasons, leaving you and the rest of the onlookers to sit in the summer sun waiting impatiently.
You found an isolated spot in the stands across from the royal pavilion. Every once in a while, you would catch the eye of your husband or your lover and smile at them, wanting to join them but knowing it was impossible.
"Sitting alone, my lady?"
You looked up before looking away with a scoff, "Good day, Lord Varys. Might I help you with something?"
"Just taking in the joust." Varys did not ask to join you before sitting, fanning himself with a small paper fan.
"You hate blood sports." you reminded him knowingly.
"I do." Varys nodded, "But I just wanted to check in. You haven't told him yet."
"He doesn't need to know, it makes no difference."
"It makes all the difference." Varys corrected you before growing thoughtfully silent. "Or could it be you haven't accepted the truth yourself?"
At this you stood, gathering your skirts. "I am not entertaining this conversation. Good day."
But Varys wasn't letting you off the hook that easily.
"What do you think happens to barren wives of noble men?" The spider hissed "Do you think they're just reluctantly tolerated? At best, the Hound could petition the king to annul your marriage. At worst-" he tossed you a scathing look. "Let's just say there's more than one way to get rid of a troublesome wife."
"Shut your horrid mouth," you snapped at him, drawing the attention of others now, "My husband would never do that to me!"
"Oh you pretty little fool, you've managed to actually fall for him." Varys sighed, "then you're not half as clever as I believed you to be."
"Is the Spider disturbing you, Lady Clegane?"
You glanced up and almost sighed with relief at the sight of white armour and golden hair.
"Yes, actually" you glared at Varys.
Jaime scowled at the Eunuch, who backed down with a simper. "Perhaps the Lady has heard enough of your poison, Lord Varys"
"Very well" was all the Master of Whispers said, leaving you to the tender care of your savior.
"Ignore him" Jaime urged you after you thanked him. "You look very beautiful today, if you don't mind my saying so."
"Thank you, Ser Jaime. In truth your sister arranged most of this."
"She's always loved arranging things, my sister"
"I should warn you" you glanced across the pitch to your husband, "Sandor doesn't like the idea of you talking to me."
"No?" Jaime quirked a brow and gave an amused chuckle, "I suppose I'm taking my life in my own hands then"
"Speaking of" you motioned to the jousting ring, "you aren't participating?"
"No, not this time." He looked disappointed, "just an onlooker. Your brother by law is jousting this first round though. Is he not?"
"If they ever start, he should be." you chuckled as the King grew drunker and more and more impatient.
Finally the jousters made their entrances. First was Ser Hugh of the Vale, a young handsome man with flaxen hair and shiny new armour. He took his rounds on a tawny gelding to the cheers of the crowd.
The younger ladies of the court were clearly taken with this newcomer and this overwhelming support seemed to make him cocky.
Gregor, even ahorse, absolutely dwarfed the man. He, like his brother, also rode a black stallion, but Gregor's was dappled with grey and didn't seem to have the same discipline Stranger had.
The cheers for the Mountain were less boisterous, more of a polite round of applause.
You expected him to report right to his end of the run, but instead your skin broke out in goose bumps as he directed his horse towards you.
"My Lady." He addressed you with surprising respect, "I request your favor for House Clegane."
It would be rude to refuse, you knew that. And if he was requesting in the name of your shared house, it would be disrespectful to turn him away.
Pale but forcing your hands not to shake, you slipped the wreath of yellow paper flowers over his lance.
"Good luck to you, Brother" you nodded and he nodded back before returning to the joust.
Maybe he did approve of you, you thought as you returned to your seat by Jaime.
The horses were set and the knights ready and with a blast of a trumpet, they were off. The horses went at each other at a full gallop and lances lowered as the knights drew closer to each other.
You had expected the shattering of shields, and the sounds of wood against plate.
You hadn't expected the visceral, wet crunch of bone and blood as Gregor's lance point went not through the chest, but through Ser Hugh's throat. His armour, not properly secured, had given Gregor the perfect opening to end the bout in one round.
The crowd went up with a cry of dismay that simmer down into horrified silence as Ser Hugh fought desperately for his last breaths.
"Gods" Jaime breathed before glancing at your pale face. "Next time I go into battle, remind me to ask for your favor first."
You didn't respond, not finding the jest amusing in the slightest.
Gregor dismounted and, with chilling calm, returned to your side of the pitch. His armor clanking with each step and movement until he reached over the barrier and dropped something in your lap.
Yellow paper flowers, now notably crumpled, and dappled by Ser Hugh's blood.
You couldnt find the words to congratulate him, still shell shocked from the sight of lance peircing throat.
Gregor didn't wait for your acknowledgement, simply walking away.
"Look on the bright side." Jaime tried to rouse you, "I think he likes you."
When you didnt laugh, Jaime noticed people had started to leave the stands. The pitch needed to be reset and it would be hours until the next bout.
"Come" he offered his arm which you took shakily. "Let's get you back where you belong."
------------------
"Drink" Cersei poured you a generous glass of red. Your hands still shook but your mind had come back from the shock.
Jaime had escorted you to Cersei's side, and the queen had a similar attitude to her brother about the whole situation.
"I think we can call that a success at least" she assured you, slipping her arm through yours. "You did everything right, he asked, you gave, it was a solid show of familiar acceptance. Now that Gregor has accepted you as a Clegane, the court will follow."
"I feel like I killed that man" you said without thinking.
Cersei pulled a confused face and shook her head. "Nonsense, people die in tourneys all the time sweetling."
"I feel sick" you breathed, closing your eyes as if to stop the world from spinning.
----------------
Sandor was wrought with fury, and for a moment wished he had joined the lists just so he could throttle his frustrations out.
"Look who it is" the irritating princeling under his care pointed over the crowd. Lady Sansa, hooked to her prince's arm, craned her neck and smiled a little.
"Congratulations on your brother's win today, My Lady" Sansa said politely, though she had been equally dismayed by the bloodshed.
"Your Highness, My Lady" you acknowledged the younger pair in turn before turning to your husband. "I'm returning to the keep. I'm not feeling too well"
Sandor gave a short nod, not asking for further.
"You should not walk alone if you are not well" Sansa insisted, clinging to Joffery and trying to subtly motion to Sandor who had been looming behind them for hours.
"I appreciate the concern but I'm sure I'll be fine" you insisted but the Prince shook his head, picking up on Sansa's implication.
"Nonsense. Dog, see to your lady. Lady Sansa and I will be fine without you."
Sandor didn't need convincing before whisking you back to the keep, Sansa watching with wide blue eyes.
"They are very romantic, aren't they?" She breathed, "I wanted to watch their wedding when we were at Winterfell, but mother wouldn't let me."
"It was boring" Joffrey scoffed. "Who cares about two servants getting married?"
"I thought she was a hedge knight's daughter you met on the road?"
Joffrey quickly remembered himself and the lie his mother had impressed upon him and gave a cruel smirk, "That's right, I must have misremembered."
Sansa ignored the irony in his voice, swept up in the idea of a poor knight's daughter and a grumpy bear of a man meeting by chance on the King's Road and being so taken with each other they married as soon as they could in a grand castle.
It was just like the songs and tales she loved so much.
-----------------
"That was horrible."
"That's tourneys for you" Sandor growled, "what did you expect?"
"Not that" you struggled to keep up with him.
He didn't respond, and you found the silence to be brutally intentional.
"Sandor" you stopped, watching and he continued to storm forth. "Are you mad at me?"
"Why would I be mad?" He stopped but didn't turn to look at you.
"Are you mad that I gave Gregor my favor before the joust?"
His shoulder slackened a little as he rolled back to face you, looking tired. "No" he confessed, "That's not why I'm mad."
"But you are mad" you pressed. "With me?"
He shrugged.
"Please be honest" you begged him, "I'm still very new at all this. If I did something wrong, I need to know."
Sandor took a breath, not wanting to take his frustrations out on you. Not if you were just trying to help.
"Fucking Lannister" he growled, "he had you practically in his lap the whole bout. And I know he did it just to piss me off."
Your face softened with understanding. "Oh, my love. Is that it?" You didn't want to laugh at him, it would only piss him off worse. So instead you closed the gap between the two of you.
"The queen is one thing" he breathed, "I won't lie and say I love the idea. But she makes you happy, and she's making life here easier for you....but that fucking brother of hers" his voice deepened to a growl. "I know, about you and him."
You gave a sharp breath. "It was just the once."
"Once is enough."
You thought a moment. "If it makes things easier, I will do my best to avoid Jaime Lannister."
"You can try" Sandor grumbled, "but one word to Her Grace and he'll try to turn her against you."
"I doubt that." You assured him. "She knows how much I love you. I like to think she'd be understanding "
---------------------
The second half of the joust didn't come until late the next morning.
This time you found your seat on the same side as the royal family, keeping yourself further away from the front so Gregor wouldn't ask for your favor a second time.
This time the Mountain was riding against Ser Loras Tyrell, a sterling youth with light chestnut hair that hung in ringlets. His armour was a shimmering display of steel roses pressed into the plate. His shield bore the sigil of his house proudly.
His mount was a milk white mare, and as she passed Gregor's stallion the black horse began to prance in place anxiously.
Despite Gregor's best efforts, the stallion would not settle as they mounted for the joust. It became rowdy and impatient, and when the trumpet blared the stallion dashed frantically in the direction of the mare.
Loras's lance smashed against Gregor's chest, sending the giant into the dirt and knocking off his helmet.
The crowd erupted with cheers as Loras basked in their adulation. Gregor, ever a sour loser, called for his sword.
You waited for the Melee round to start, internally bracing for another death, but instead of taking the broad sword to the Knight of the Flowers, Gregor took the head off the stallion with a single blow.
You covered your mouth in shock as the stallion stiffened and collapsed, flooding the pitch with a small river of blood. Gregor turned his attention onto Loras.
Before the teenager got a chance to call for his own weapon, Gregor shattered the Tyrell sigil into a million splinters and reared back to smash his opponent as well.
The crowd cried for mercy, and from the royal pavilion a large black mass shot between Gregor and Loras. It took you a moment to realize that black mass was your husband, who had drawn his own sword and was fighting off his brother as well as he could.
Size and strength were on Gregor's side, but Sandor managed to dodge and parry ill aimed blows that were fueled by rage.
You pushed yourself through the crowd to the wooden gate that separated the crowd from the jousters. You wanted to scream, but knew if you did you'd be risking his life.
He needed focus, as even now the battle wasn't looking good for him.
"Stop this madness in the name of your King" Robert bellowed, enraged by this sudden outbreak of violence. Sandor was the first to stop, almost immediately as the order was given he ducked quick enough to avoid what would have been a vicious blow to the head.
Gregor stopped only when he realized all attention was on him, armed guards waiting for him to make a wrong move so they could skewer him from all angles.
Instead he tossed his sword like a toddler tosses a toy and stormed off, Robert calling for the guards to leave him be.
Loras had managed to recover himself enough to make a show of honoring Sandor for saving his life, prompting scores of cheers that left him looking rather embarrassed.
When the crowd departed you all but threw yourself at you husband, grabbing at him with clinging hands.
"Gods, you can't do that" you scolded him, blood pounding in your ears frantically. "I thought I was going to have a heart attack. How can you be so stupidly brave? Damn you!"
Sandor grumbled under his breath, letting an arm drape over you shyly. "Well, I just didn't want Gregor to get the satisfaction of 2 deaths in as many days."
That was a lie, but you let him keep it. You supposed it was easier for him to swallow than the thought he'd done something genuinely selfless for someone he barely knew.
By the end of the day, The Hound almost wished he'd let the kid get crushed if it meant he wouldn't have to bat off so many strangers trying to thank and congratulate him.
Joffrey took great pleasure in the attention. After all, he considered the Hound's success to reflect on him. If The Hound was fearsome, than he was even more so.
Somehow, you even ended up getting caught in the frenzy. The noblewomen who had scorned you now tried to pull you into their conversations. You weren't sure how to feel about that, but mostly smiled and nodded to be polite.
"You must tell us more about how you met, it's so unusual." A strange but well dressed woman pressed.
"It's romantic" another woman dressed all in blue insisted, you had forgotten her name, "I didn't meet my husband until my wedding day."
"Are you going to try for children?" An older woman interjected, "I know you're getting a late start of it, but you still have some good years. Don't let those know-nothing Maesters make you think otherwise."
"Oh, you poor thing" the conversation came back around to the first woman. "I can't imagine the size of those babies"
"Poor thing, my eye" the older woman laughed, "I can imagine the size of that-"
"Lady Florent, you stop right there!" the blue woman scolded her with a fierce blush across her face.
You gave brief but friendly answers, and before long you had them eating out of the palm of your hand.
Maybe Cersei was right.
Maybe you would get on here just fine.
#sandor clegane x reader#cersei lannister x reader#x reader#game of thrones fanfiction#asoiaf fanfiction#Her Grace's Handmaiden
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MY HAPPY MARRIAGE | Gojo Satoru
—In which the disgraced older daughter of a small clan gets an offer from the strongest sorcerer in the world, an offer she can't refuse, an unusual prospect of marriage.
Author's Note: Hello, this is my first ever fanfiction. I might make some errors but I will do my best to make this reading experience as amazing as possible. This story is very close to my heart and was inspired by a manga of the same name. Please give Chihaya and Gojo lots of love. I will be uploading on Wattpad and ao3 as well !
TW : domestic violence, physical abuse, suicidal ideation, suicide, self harm, 18+ themes | minors dni
pairs : gojo satoru x fem!oc, slight!geto suguru x fem!oc and slight!sukuna x fem!oc
CHAPTER ONE : THE TALENTLESS MAIDEN
WHEN THE NEWS of her mother's demise reached Chihaya Furukawa, she was returning from work, stumbling through the office hours crowds of Chiba station. It was just another Wednesday for her. Yet the news had turned her very mundane day upside down. Her knees wobbled as the weight of her handbag seemed to weigh her down. Strange. She wondered. She never thought, she would be affected by the demise of the woman who claimed to never have loved her.
Yet, she persisted. Returning to her quaint flat, she cleaned her room thrice over the course of four hours, claiming that it would bring her the very peace of mind she needed. However peace had always been unkind and fleeting for the eldest daughter of the Furukawa clan.
It was her brother's hoarse voice that plagued her. She is gone. Mother is dead. That is what Makoto Furukawa had only told. There were no explanations regarding the nature of her death, no illness. The lady of the house was known to be a fierce woman of sheer fortitude. Her bloodline was from the prestriged Machi clan of the Jujutsu World. She seldom suffered from illnesses. Then how?. Then how did mother pass? The rational part of her brain mulled. But for Furukawa, despite her unyielding curiosity, an air of uneasiness seemed to surround her very being. Hence, that evening she spent lying on her bed, looking at th the starless sky through the window beside her bed, hoping to see traces of her mother's pleasent memory. However, there seemed to be none.
Chihaya Furukawa wanted to grieve that day but she didn't know how.
_______
SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO
The Furukawa household lived in traditional Japanese houses, while a significant of their wealth, the walls were too thin to contained the cries of a child. Hence, Chihaya had learnt the ways of suppressing her cries in order to spare her tiny hands from becoming the canvas of her father's wrathful showerings. As if she hadn't gone through countless punishments from him already.
Haruto Furukawa hated wailing children more than he hated weaklings. A self made Jujutsu Sorcerer, he had single handedly uplifted his rather downtrodden clan's glory in his generation, especially among the council of elders. For a man like him who had slain countless screeching courses, cries of children seemed like a deterrent to his focus, and his hard earned peace.
Hence, when a ten year old Furukawa sat with cane marks littered all across her petite arms. Her mother wordlessly, applied ointments on them.
In her eyes, there was no love or hate.
Patching up her wounded child, was just another segment of her duty that she would fulfill as the lady of the house.
"If only you weren't so talentless, father would be much kinder to you" Young Makoto, who was two years her junior quipped from her another corner of the room. "He only disciplines you because you can't even perform a basic curse technique even at this age" He snickered, giggling in his joy of being the prodigy of the family. A true Furukawa. Who would carry the fire manipulation technique of the family foreword.
Tears had formed in the young girl's eyes, as the pain of her wounded hands seemed to seep through the barrage she had created in her mind for all the terrible memories.
A tear drop rolled down her cheek and fell on her arm.
"Crying won't make you useful, Chihaya. Only those who are dutiful or strong get their respects" Her said in a voice loud enough only for the young girl to hear, tighning the bandage on her wrist. "You are weak, hence, you must be dutiful. It is the only way you will ever be respected by others. Jujutsu is not the only way to carry on your family's legacy. Being a proper lady and a good wife in the future is a great duty to shoulder for us women as well"
Chihaya could merely stare at her mother with glassy eyes, her lips parted in disbelief. She cry, scream, throw her arms and legs around—just to let her mother know about the pain she'd been harbouring since the past couple of years.
When Lady Furukawa spoke, the dying sunlight of the waning dusk seemed to illuminate her face through the window. In that light she looked like a divine being of great knowledge of the world. In that light Chihaya could see the tirednes that had dawned on her eyes. In that light, the eldest Furukawa daughter realised—that even if she cried her lungs out, her mother wouldn't care.
____________
PRESENT DAY
Despite the baleful and uncharacteristic news of death she'd received the previous day, Chihaya had arrived to work the next morning. Wearing her usual smile for her co-workers and her students. As a kindergarten teacher, she felt a sense of duty to not let the children experience residues of the mishaps in her life. However that task seemed to become excruciatingly difficult for the young woman as her head throbbed due to lack of sleep.
"It is quite odd isn't it" Aoi commented, as the duo continued with the final touch ups of the playroom before the kids arrived. Aoi Higuchi had been a faithful ally to Chihaya during her short career at the kindergarten. Perhaps the only friend she had left now.
"What is it Higuchi San?" Chihaya asked, turning to see that her co-worker looking wistfully at the open windows.
"I don't know if it's the weather or not, but usually at this time, we have more birds around don't we?" It was an odd observation, but a poignant one. The kindergarten was located in the suburbs and around a plethora of trees. It was not uncommon to have birds chirp away through the morning. Yet that day, there was hardly a sound.
It was an uncharacteristically peaceful morning.
"Perhaps it is the terrible weather" Chihaya chuckled, "I read somewhere that climate change has had quite an impact on the local birds of Japan, let alone the migratory ones" she thought out loud, with a finger on her chin.
Aoi sighed, "Yeah, you're perhaps right" the brunette haired coworker shrieked as she looked at the large clock ticking to 10am, "Oh boy, I am late again—i gotta get the kids from the assembly hall. Can you finish up stacking these colouring books for me?"
"I got this" Chihaya reassured with a smile, "you can go get the kids"
"You're the best Chihaya Chan!"
The young woman giggled at her friend's compliment as she moved to pick up the colouring books left scattered around the room from the previous day's activities. She hummed a tune of the song she'd heard at the subway so often, a song she forgot to seek out the name of. Perhaps once I go home, I'll Google the lyrics I remember? She wondered, trying to push away the gloomy thoughts from her mind. I should probably ask Aoi San for her Spotify playlist, I think I'll surely find it there. She does hav—
BA DUM!
BA DUM!
Her head throbbed, as her knees felt heavy. Chihaya could feel a certain nausea bubbling up her chest as dizziness took over.
What the —
Images passed by her vision of a time unknown. It was as if a book of memories had been reopened. She could see her dainty classroom full of children, bustling with joy and clamour of young child. She observed, through her mind's eye a scene, as one of the young children named Akito dropped his water bottle as her drank from it, soaking the floor. She watched as the water water spread throughout the back of the class, whilst she and Higuchi were looking away in the scene playing out. She watched as the water reached the feet of an overzealous child and as he fell after slipping on the growing puddle. Cries erupted as the child cried whilst rolling on the floor, catching both the teacher's attention.
And then the scene ended.
It was like a premonition. A waking dream. A phenomenon she had never encountered. Perhaps it's the caffeine. She thought to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. For a second, Chihaya felt like she was on some terrible LSD trip. The girl then concluded that tiredness seemed to have gotten the best of her, and that she would take a leave for the rest of the week in order to return home and pay her final respects to her dearly departed mother. I need that closure to be same again.
Chihaya looked at the colouring books that she had stacked up, lying scattered on the floor yet again. Her knees had given away and she'd ended up sitting down with folded legs, as her arm supported her tired form. Her breathing was heavy, and sweat dripped from her brow.
There goes my makeup.
Looking at the clock that stood at only 10:04am, Chihaya wondered if it was only her who felt like her daydreaming had taken forever to end. While in reality it had hardly been four minutes since Aoi had left to fetch the children. Four minutes. Shit. They'll be here any minute.
The woman picked up each book gingerly, placing them one on top of the other roll number wise, as she continued to final preparations for her classes to begin.
Just when she slid the last box onto the playroom shelves, she heard the door slide open, and a cacophony of voices followed suit. Young children with blue hats and yellow bags huddled into the classroom with big smiles on the face, while some had glassy eyes due to crying before coming to school. Chihaya smiled, as she stood up to take her position by the front of the class, her hands clasped to her lap, a bright smile on her face.
"Good morning everyone!" She beamed, while the kids to their seats on the little desks.
"Good morning miss Furukawa!"
"Good morning!"
"Good morning sensei!"
Greetings poured in as the class filled up to it's full capacity. Chihaya's heart often swelled with pride as she would see the children under her care develope a comely nature with good manners. She felt like her duty to the next generation was fulfilled in a way. Despite it's hardships, she loved being a teacher. It was all she ever wanted to be, and even though she dream was realised later in her life, she was glad that she could live with certain contentment atleast.
"Please settle down" she chided the kids who were still jumping on their chairs around at the back of the class, as Higuchi caught then by their uniforms and tried to call them down.
"Woah there Akira, you will hurt yourself if you keep jumping around like that" Higuchi told the young boy, keeping a close eye on him as he took is seat with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "sorry sensei" he giggled. He was totally going to jump on his chair again.
"Let's finish the colouring we started yesterday okay?" Chihaya clapped to draw in their attention, "and today, we will learn how to draw and colour the rainbow!"
"I love rainbows sensei!"
"Mee too"
"So do I"
"No; they are my favourite"
The woman chuckled as she tuck the stray strands of her hair behind her ear. "Well I love rainbows too Mirai Chan" she went around the desk of the girl who had exclaimed first in delight, "Rainbows appear once the skies clear after rain"
"Mom says, rainbows signify hope and new beginnings" young Mirai added on enthusiastically, "Is that true sensei?"
The woman could only smile.
Hope.
Chihaya Furukawa could scoff mentally. She would give anything to be hopeful again. Hope to her were the dying embers of joy in her mothers eyes. Her hopes seemed to have died in her youth, and her mother's death seemed to make her new beginnings in Chiba seem like an uncertain path.
"Your mother is absolutely correct" Chihaya forced a smile, breaking away from her thoughts. The children shouldn't sense my grief. It would not be fair to them. Turning her back. Her pretended to write on the whiteboard. Her free arm balled into a fist by her side as she gritted her teeth and took a deep breath and faced the children, "Now, let us begin the class"
__________
Half of the day had gone by and at 12:00pm, during the lunch break the children played around in the classroom as Chihaya decided to spend her free time keeping her eye on the boys of the class, wary of her daydream. No child is getting injured on my watch.
"You aren't gonna eat?" Higuchi propped herself beside the younger woman, with her arm resting on her face.
"I'll eat later" Chihaya reassured with a small smile. Turning back to monitor the children.
"If you don't mind me saying Chihaya chan, something about you doesn't feel quite right" The Furukawa girl was startled by the sudden comment about her disposition from her friend. Higuchi had been perceptive certainly, however Chihaya was also a very suppressive person. It was difficult to read her poker face, let alone know what was going on in her mind. Or so she believed.
Her lips parted in surprise. Clearing her throat she looked away from the older woman, "You are a worry wart Higuchi San, I am completely fine"
"You always lie when you don't meet my eyes"
Chihaya turned to look the woman deep in her embony eyes, "I am fine. Trust me"
Silence. Aoi Higuchi was no fool Chihaya envisioned her to be.
"You know you could talk to me anytime right?" She mumbled, sensing the younger woman's discomfort as she hummed in response. "I hope your ex finance is not troubling you again"
Chihaya could choke at the unwarranted comment, as she coughed her water out of her wind pipe. "You still are the same, senpai. Your lack of tact is impeccable" she laughed nervously, wiping the water that had dropped on her trousers.
"If Naoya San was troubling me, I would have left Chiba long back" Chihaya chuckled half heartedly.
Higuchi stood up swiftly, and grabbed hold of chihaya's hands, earning a yelp from the younger girl, "If that bastard happens to pop in here, you have nothing to fear, my brother knows the local delinquents quite well! He will handle that man well"
Chihaya couldn't control her laugh. Oh senpai, delinquents would be target practice for that bastard.
"I am serious, Chihaya Chan! You don't worry"
"I could never, I know for a fact that I am in perfectly good hands" the woman smiled.
Chihaya saw the half empty water bottle on her table, as her head throbbed in realisation. Her daydream. She'd forgotten to keep an eye on the children, getting up from her seat, she scanned the entire room, to check if anyone was injured. To her cruel surprise Akito had dropped his water bottle by the door and was struggling to clean up his wet pants.
Chihaya rushed to help the younger boy. Her almost super human speed surprised Higuchi.
"Hey, hey, hey little guy. Are you okay?" She asked, soothing his back as he looked like he was about to cry. Before she could listen to his replies, she saw her daydream mimic itself in real life as Akira jumped around the water puddle on the verge of danger.
Hence, Chihaya ran again to the other child and swifty scooped him up in her arms before he could slip on the puddle.
"Akira, how many times I've told you not to jump around the class?" The woman scolded the young boy, as she placed him on the dry floor.
Tears formed in his eyes as he huffed with a pout.
"I was playin" he sniffled.
"I know but you have to be careful—"
BA DUM!
Her head throbbed yet again, as a stabbing pain pierced through her forehead to the back of head, compelling her to hold her head in pain.
"Sensei? Are you okay?" The child asked, fearful of her changed expression.
"Fine" Chihaya gritted her teeth, slowly removing herself from the the young boy, her instincts compelling her to run away from the room full of children. Yet the girl could barely move.
Soon the noise of the classroom was overpowered by the voices that rang in her ear.
Voices rang through her head, as memories flowed like an endless river infront of her eyes,"You'll never be a daughter to me" her father's eyes darkened as he raised his cane for another on of his punishments.
"Just marry her off to the highest bidding clan" she'd overhead her brother speaking with his father after her graduation.
"You're so talentless that you'd be better off dead" she remembered how the children of the high born Jujutsu families laughed at her inability to see curses at a young age.
"You're as pitiful as a dove with a broken wing. I don't know if I pity you or care for you" she remembered her first love, a man who had turned to darkness, his long dark hair wavering in the wind as his eyes dimmed of kindness.
What is happening to me? She could only think as memories flooded her being. A nauseating panic rising in her throat, as she felt that she was trapped inside a box being forced to relive every time she'd experienced pain.
The pain coupled with the haunting memories made the woman clasp her ears in a feeble attempt to salvage her sanity. The images of her dreary life flashed one after the other. Until at the end she saw her mother's comely face, and a scream erupted from her mouth coupled with uncontrollable tears. "Go to Chiba, and stay as far from this world as you can, hear me girl? I will arrange a job for you next semester in Hokkaido. To then, don't come back to Tokyo" Those were the last words she'd heard from her mother before she left home at the beginning of the semester.
Warmth engulfed her body, as Chihaya lost the track of time and space. The throbbing pain seemed to be getting worse along with the nausea and the dizziness and before she knew, the sights of her past darkened into her vision, as the unbearable pain sent her body into a shock.
And soon, Chihaya passed out.
________________
THREE DAYS LATER
Chihaya Furukawa hardly ever had a dreamless sleep. Her dreams would be ridden with imageries of the past and her greatest desires. However the girl often wised to have a dreamless sleep. Hence, when she woke up after her "episode" she was shocked and frankly terrified to find herself on a hospital bed with minimal clothes on.
Her vision was still not clear after the whole episode, as she rubbed them vigorously to focus on her surroundings. It couldn't be. Not after all these years. Is it a dream? It has to be a dream right? A myriad of thoughts ran through her mind as she realised her position. She was in a deep soup. Panic began to rise up her throat, as the uncanny familiarity of the pristine white hospital room reminded her of the last place she'd want to be—
Tokyo Metropolitan Cursed Technique college. Her old highschool.
In her feeble attempt, Chihaya endeavoured to run away. Carefully examining the room she found her clothes neatly folded on one of the empty couches, she slowly removed herself from the bedside, clutching onto the blanket to save the residues of her modesty as she tiptoed to her clothes and belongings.
I can't be here.
The young woman did not know what had transpired or how she'd managed to end up in Tokyo of all places. But in her gut she knew that it was her High school that she'd ended up at. There was no way she could forget the place. She remembered it at the back of her hand. However, a tinge of worry regarding her students and Higuchi remained. What happened? How did I end up here?
"Going somewhere?" A rather masculine voice broke her trance, as she froze on her path. Fuck. She should have known. They would have left some rando to look after her.
Chihaya let out a nervous chuckle, slowly turning to meet the man "I was just getting my clo—AH"
The girl shrieked as a tuft of white hair overwhelmed her sight. Her lips parted in sheer surprise, as horror dawned on her expression.
"Gojo Satoru"
"Hello, Chiyo chan" he said with the same old shit eating grin on his face, "Long time no see"
"What are you doing here?" She asked firmly, rather too firmly, almost as if she was reprimanding him for existing.
"Is that how you'd treat your knight in shining armour?" He faked a pout, and a hurt hand to his heart. "After all that I went through for you!"
Obnoxious as ever. Had Chihaya not been in such a sensitive situation, she would definitely roll her eyes.
However at the same time the girl hoped it was a bad dream, a terrible nightmare she would soon wake from. Yet alas, those prayers were futile as Gojo Satoru was standing in flesh infront of her eyes, and she could feel his gaze burrowing into her despite the bandages over his eyes. She knew that fate would bring her at crossroads with those she abandoned all those years ago. However she'd hoped it would be limited to her old close friends Shoko and Utahime. They would have been much easier to deal with albeit she did owe a lot of explanation to everyone. But not in a thousand years did she expect Gojo to be the first one to confront her after eleven years since she last saw him. Let alone when she was practically naked. She tightened the grip around her blanket, her cheeks growing flushed in embarassment.
When the young woman stood transfixed in sheer shock Gojo could only laugh at her state, running his hands through his hair. He walked towards the girl peering down at her, his face much closer to her's.
Chihaya wanted to combust as she felt his breath fanning her cheek, which had warmed into a deep scarlet hue.While her brain unable to process what in the hell was going on.
"Cat caught your tongue, Chiyo chan?" Gojo smiled, as she felt him studying her face intently, "Its a shame, I have to wait till our wedding to see you this flustered" He let out a hearty chuckle.
Wait a minute.
OUR wedding?
Gojo and Me?
Me and THE Gojo Satoru?
Chihaya swore her brain had short circuited with that information. However her lips moved almost instinctively to that information.
"No way in hell am I marrying you" Chihaya spat with the meager courage she had left in her, talking a step away from the much larger man.
Gojo let out a dry laugh. He was amused.
"We'll see about that"
In a matter of seconds, Gojo's finger was positioned on her forehead as she watched him murmur a technique and before she could even realise, Chihaya had dropped unconscious in his arms.
Part 2
Thank you for reading this story, do reblog to support me! I am still learning to use Tumblr so apologies in advance for any mistakes I make! I am open to being guided through comments and dms! Thanks ☺️
#gojo headcanons#gojo sensei#gojo fanfic#gojo fluff#gojo saturo#jjk gojo#gojo satoru x oc#jujutsu kaisen#geto suguru#nanami kento#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo smut#sukuna x oc#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n
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25 - New Years Pt. 1 - Til You Come Back for More* // Forever Winter Series
pairing: austin x fem!oc | word count: 4k-ish
warnings: angst, jealousy, mentions of strip clubs/sex work, alcohol, excruciating teasing from a fed up!austin, taunting, fingers, lots of dialogue, 18+ only, MDNI
summary: Austin meets Elsie at a roof top new years party, bringing an unexpected plus-one with him. Elsie finds herself overcome with a foreign feeling of jealousy that demands an outlet.
prev chp -> 24 - Ski Slopes**
see masterlist/summary for chapter log & background info
will i still love you like this when it’s midnight?
will you still love me like this when it’s midnight?
the new year comes but i’ll be lonely tonight
Til you come back for more
-ELSIE-
Nox and I finally arrived to this stupid corporate party Nox’s coworker invited us to for New Years. It was what was described to me as “modern black tie 20’s Great Gatsby” themed… whatever the fuck that meant. I suppose when you work with a bunch of overgrown frat boys as business partners, party themes aren’t executed that well. My only saving grace was that I invited Austin. I knew Nox would eventually ditch me for his coworker buddies and leave me alone, so the least I could do was have Austin come with me.
I tugged at my satin green dress while checking my phone for any updates from Austin, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around to my best friend in jeans and a leather jacket – quite the difference to the suits crowding the roof top. I then took notice of the petite blonde that followed behind him.
Austin cleared his throat. “Elsie, this is my friend Aspen.” Austin gesturing between us.
‘Friend’ yeah right.
“Aspen, this is my friend Elsie.”
‘Friends’ sure.
I wondered if they were friends like we are.
And what exactly was that?
“Hi!” Aspen chirped and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you Elsie!”
I shook her hand, “Nice to meet you too.”
Austin seemed to have ignored the memo with his casual attire that made him stick out like a sore thumb – Aspen evidently had nailed the assignment, a slinky silver dress hung over her thin body. She was exactly the kind of girl he always ended up with. She was everything I wasn’t.
“Oh! I’ll get us some drinks! I’ll be right back Aust.” She pecked his cheek quickly and fluttered away to the inside bar.
Aust?
Who the fuck was this bitch?
“I didn’t know you were bringing someone?” I questioned, wanting to cross my arms but it seemed inappropriate, there’s no reason for me to be so peeved about another girl with him.
“Oh well, I just thought I might as well bring a date to the party.”
A date?
“Oh well, you just didn’t tell me you were seeing someone.”
“I’m not.” He replied shortly.
“You’re not what?”
“Seeing her. We’re just friends.”
“You just said she’s your date, she kissed you.”
“I’m your ‘date’ to shit all the time. And you kiss my cheek too.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong, but the words sliced just the same. He never seemed to object before, it’s not like he felt this searing over Nox. Other than his hatred for him.
The bubbly blonde returned with drinks expertly stacked in her hands. “Here, do you mind holding this for me?” handing her cup to Austin, “I have to call Courtney back, I might have to go cover her shift at the club.” She said with a pout.
Club?
And she was gone again. “Club?” I asked the second she was gone.
“Yeah, she works at a club.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink.
“What kind of club?”
His eyes diverted, “Ehm, you know just a night club.”
“Which one?” Narrowing my eyes but quickly softening them, keeping my reactions calm.
“’Body Language’.”
“The strip club!” I was losing my grip of restraint. Scratching his arm, he just nodded. “And what does she do there?”
“She’s a bottle girl,” He answered casually, “But sometimes she covers other shifts.”
“So, she’s a stripper.”
“No, she’s a bottle service girl. Most of the time.”
“Right, and you’re ‘just friends’.”
He met my eyes now, the energy shifted. “What does it matter?” He snapped back at me, obviously catching on to my unwarranted attitude.
I hadn’t thought that far, I reeled in my interrogation. What did it matter? “It doesn’t – I was just wondering. She seems…nice.”
“Well, like I said, we’re just friends.”
“Right.” I knew he was lying, he’s the worst fucking liar.
Aspen returned even perkier than before, “She found someone else! Thank god I didn’t wanna leave. You seem so fun!”
Oh my god why did he have to pick the more irritating girls. I gave a forced tight-lipped smile. “Austin tells me you’re a writer!”
“Oh uh, yeah. I work for an online magazine.” How boring compared to a stripper, suddenly feeling insecure about my profession.
“That’s really cool!” Agonizingly sweet, like cotton candy perfume. It made me want to vomit.
“What do you do?” Wanting her answer.
“Oh, I work at the strip club down the street, I’m a bottle service girl!” She answered like it was the most prestigious job.
So, he wasn’t lying about that. “So, you never strip?” I felt Austin’s eyes burning into me.
She giggled, “Oh sometimes I do, that’s where the real money is.” Of course it is.
“I bet. And what does a bottle girl do exactly?” Taking a very necessary gulp of my saturated drink. I knew my tone came off quite judge-y, but I couldn’t help it. I’m extremely supportive of sex workers, it wasn’t about that. It was something else.
“Well let’s see. Mostly I just walk around in lingerie pouring drinks for the patrons. I can give lap dances if I want to. Or use the private rooms if I’m asked specifically.” She spoke about it so professionally. I’d never heard a club employee explain their duties like that.
“Ah.” I stole the last sip of my drink.
“I keep telling Austie he needs to come visit me!” She looked up at him like a little kid and he curled his arm around her waist.
Austie? Only I ever called him that. Me. Just me.
“You could come visit too!” She offered, “If you’re into that. You could bring your boyfriend.”
I snapped my eyes up to Austin’s, “Maybe I will.” His eyes matched my intensity. Aspen didn’t seem to notice, or at least didn’t care. The ditzy blonde reminded me of literally every girl he’d ever dated. Though, she was nicer than most. At least she was fucking nice. I never understood how he ended up with girls like her, he’s so the opposite of anything they were.
I wanted absolutely nothing more about this interaction. Scanning the crowd for Nox, he blended into all the rest of the 3-piece suits. “Well, I better find Nox, it was nice meeting you Aspen.” I fled before she even had a chance to respond.
-
As predicted, Nox payed little attention to me, leaving me alone with too many glasses of champagne and a dance floor. The latest Doja Cat song blared from the DJ’s speakers and to say that I was enjoying myself would be an understatement. The alcohol coursing through my veins, the anger of Nox’s absence and the unexplainable fury with Austin all fueled the way I danced and spun around the dance floor. My hips swung in time with the music and my emerald green dress flowed accordingly.
Every time I caught a glimpse of Austin, his eyes were already on me. It was interesting to see the difference of his gaze on me versus Aspen. On me, his eyes were dark, brooding, maybe even… angry?
On her, it was soft, kind, happy, fun.
That was how he would look at me, when we were alone. Maybe that just wasn’t us anymore. Perhaps we’d crossed one too many lines to stay who we were. If our, incidents, were starting to cause a rift between us, I knew it had to end. Just the idea of living without him as my best friend was unbearable. The weirdness between us had to end, no matter how much I disliked his new girlfriend.
Lost in my own thoughts, I twirled into another swirling girl resulting in her red wine spilling all down the front of your satin dress. A sharp gasp came from you as the cold liquid spread over your clothes.
“What the fuck.” You muttered trying to piece together what happened. To your shock stood Aspen covering her filled lips with a dainty hand.
“Oh my gosh Elsie I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-“ She began desperately apologizing, not a hint of insincerity in her voice, but it only made me more infuriated.
Even in my drunken state I knew I shouldn’t voice the vile words I had swirling in my head. “I have to go.” Brushing harshly between them to the kitchen within the penthouse. Behind me I heard Austin apologize to Aspen before his footsteps tried to keep up after me.
“Elsie!” He called and didn’t take long before he caught up to me, “What the fuck was that about?”
I spun to face him emphasizing the growing deep red stain on my slitted dress, “She got fucking red wine on my dress, that’s what that was about.” I hissed turning and charging back away from him, pushing through the crowded loft. Boiling alcohol bubbled in my veins
“You bumped into her and knocked it on yourself Elsie.” His tone was far calmer than what I’d expected, I expected him to be angrier – angrier at me for knocking into his sparkly new girlfriend or angrier at her for spilling wine onto me. The calmness of it was making me angry. Why wasn’t he angry at either of those things?
I felt his hand grasp my arm briefly but dislodged thanks to a stranger’s passing elbow. Each body I brushed past built up the already boiling alcohol in my veins, I couldn’t look back at him, I didn’t dare - I was seeing red and I didn’t want to see it on him.
Though, it was no surprise that he caught up to me – amazing how much speed you gain from just having height. His hand clamped itself around my bicep, “Let me help you.” A grumbled whisper filled your ear, his warm breath shooting goosebumps across your neck.
Of course, I retracted my arm from him, “No I don’t fucking need your help.” But his grip didn’t give, and he hauled me into the crowded kitchen.
“Yes, you fucking do Elsie,” Both tone and facial expressions curled with frustration but immediately toned it down when he noticed the other people in the kitchen watching, who soon filed out, no doubt from the uncomfortable air. Once gone he wrapped his hands firm on my shoulders, dark blue eyes glaring down at me. “What the fuck is your problem?”
Finally, I was able to wiggle my way out of his grasp, “I don’t have a fucking problem. You’re the one being the prick.”
He rolled his eyes and snatched a dish towel, running it under water before tugging the wet material from my chest. “I’m being a prick by dancing with my date?” He snapped, his focus seemingly on getting the stain out.
“No, you’re just – I don’t know you’re just being fucking mean.” I flustered, the adrenaline pumping through my body was making every thought and memory blurry.
“Mean?” With snide, glancing up at me briefly, “How the fuck am I being mean? Because I fucking brought a girl to a party? Because I didn’t come to be your secondary date?”
I noticed his eyes subtly surveying the party behind the kitchen as if he was ashamed to be seen with me. “No – No it’s not about that.” I stuttered out, realizing I didn’t have an answer.
Dropping the fabric and slamming the towel on the counter, “Then what is it about Elsie, please fucking enlighten me.”
He ran his tongue across his bottom lip at the lack of my response, “Hm.”
Oh– his tongue. It had taken every piece of me to snuff out the memory of his tongue. His tongue on my – his tongue making me feel things I’d never felt. My eyes lingered on his plump lips, it sent a warm trickle down to my lower stomach.
As much as I wanted it, I couldn’t. Not again. We had just gotten past it.
“It’s ju-“ I was in his grasp again, my wrist this time being used to tow me away to the hallway. Jiggling the handle of every room before finding an empty one and pulled us into it. He locked the door and spun me against the door.
My arms crossed over my chest, “What? You’re scared of her seeing me with you?”
“What does it fucking matter Elsie?” Through straight, gritted teeth.
“So, you are scared of your girlfriend seeing us.”
“For the last fucking time she’s not my girlfriend.” He pushed himself off the door running fingers through his golden hair. “Jesus fucking christ, what does it fucking matter?”
“Answer the question.”
“What? If I care if she sees me with you?” He stepped back closer, towering over me then leaning down to eye level. “No, she doesn’t give a fuck. I don’t give a fuck. We’re not together. She’d try to fuck you if she wanted.”
“Well I-“ Pressing back into the door as if I could camouflage into it.
“You what?” He hissed, eyes narrow and callous.
I blurted the only sane answer I could think of, “I don’t like her.”
“I don’t like Nox.” Shooting back with even stronger ammo. I made him put up with Nox, why couldn’t I just fucking put up with Aspen.
“Yeah but-“
“Actually, you know what I’d like to know why you don’t like her. Because she’s been nothing but nice to you. And you’ve been fucking rude.” His accelerating voice almost frightened me.
“Augh- It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it about Elsie.” His thinning dark blues felt like lasers.
“I don’t know it’s not-“
“What is it about.” He questioned again before I could even finish my sentence.
“I-I don’t know it’s not her-.”
“Then what the fuck is it about!” His hand slammed against the door right beside my head.
I immediately tensed beneath him. “I don’t have an answer.” I let out quietly.
“I think you do.” He moved closer, his voice even lower.
“I-I really don’t.” I sputtered out, barely even loud enough to hear.
His hand gave him an anchor on the door to lean down just below my ear, “Sure you do. C’mon use your words.”
My breath hitched in my throat as if I just swallowed an ice cube whole. The words rang a memory of when I was in his lap, in the bathroom on Christmas. His tone smooth as butter, vastly different than the fuming voice from just seconds ago. It caused a flutter in the pit of my belly and my heartrate to spike. The ice cube in my throat kept me silent.
His hand tilted my chin up to face him, “You can do it darlin’. Use your words.” His words were sweet, encouraging, but his tone was anything but. Condescending, teasing, punishing. It was like my voice was stolen, I couldn’t even form a sentence. I couldn’t think over my heart thumping against my skull. I could only blink up at him.
His hand moved up my side – but never touching. His touch hovering over my body, somehow worse than him actually touching me. The flutter in my stomach now dropped between my thighs. Moving to my chest, a bent knuckle traced around my breast then just ever so slightly grazing my hardened nipple. I took my lip between my teeth trying to stifle a moan, but it failed. “Fuck.” I breathed out, causing a smirk to curl his lips. How did he make me so fucking weak.
“Ah, that’s it. So, you can use your words.” His deepened voice sent shivers down my spine and straight between my legs. And again, the ability to speak left.
His hovering fingers descended down my front painfully slow. “Could you do that for me again?” I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Then his fingers now lingering in front of my core. The buzzing below my hips only worsened. The feeling of his hand just being near me was enough to cause a pooling in my panties. I sucked in a staggered breath.
“What’s wrong darlin’?” His hand now hovering back and forth across my hips. “You want me to touch you?” My eyes widened, what the fuck was he doing to me, some twisted hypnotic dance. A devious smile spread across his face, “Ah that’s it isn’t it?”
My heart now in my throat, threatening to rip out of my body. I still couldn’t speak, I didn’t want to answer. And yet I nodded. His lips again at my ear, “Well maybe if you use your words, I just might.”
The throbbing in my core begged me to respond. “Please.” I whispered.
The same devious smirk returned, but he didn’t move any closer to me. “I wanna hear it again.”
“Fuck, please.” Two fingers now moved in circles a centimeter away from where I needed him.
“Please what?”
“Please touch me.” The words leaving me much whinier than intended.
“Hm. I don’t think so.”
“What? Why?”
“Don’t you remember? Your own rule.” His words so fucking serrated. “’No touching’.”
I suddenly regretted every word past me ever said. This also confused me since we had touched before, technically. I just wanted to do that again, just enough for it to not feel as wrong. Even though, it still lingered a guilt. “We’ve touched before.” Looking up at him with innocent eyes. For some reason my response made me nervous for his reaction.
And I was right, his gaze turning menacing, “Yeah, I’m not doing that shit anymore. We’re either gonna touch or we’re not.” His brows lowering, striking both fear and arousal in me. “All or nothing. I’m done caring about the rules, I want to break them.”
My eyes rounded and my fucking speech leaving me yet again. How was I supposed to argue with him, I couldn’t break them. No matter how much I wanted to.
He hummed, “I have a question.” My stare answered for me.
“You still think about me when you’re touching yourself?”
Fuck not this again. I didn’t want to answer it this time as it had only gotten more rampant since Christmas. Especially when I thought of his cock in my mouth. I hesitated before answering, worried of how I’d respond if he grew any more taunting. “Yes.” Barely a whisper.
“Hm.” Pausing before continuing, “And how is that any different than my fingers on you? I mean, you’re imaging they’re my fingers aren’t you?” My mouth went to gasp but suddenly lost function. He was fucking torturing me. “So,” Another pause, “So your fingers get to touch your pretty pussy but mine don’t?”
God fucking damnit. My panties already fucking drenched and he hadn’t even touched me.
“That’s pretty selfish darlin’, don’t ya think?” He continued this taunting little game, “You get to make yourself cum to the thought of me, but you won’t even let me actually do it.” The fact that he was so focused on my own pleasure made it even fucking worse. He wasn’t here complaining that I wasn’t getting him off, he was complaining that I wouldn’t let him get me off. I’d never been with anyone who cared so much about my own orgasm like that.
“If you’re so deprived that you need to touch yourself thinkin’ about me,” His teasing fingers resumed their cruel motions just in front of where I wanted him the most. “Then I wonder, if I could make you cum without even touching you at all.”
The rapid pulse in my clit suggested he might. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the door. I could feel the electric distant swirling of his fingers right in front of my sensitivity. “Remember what my tongue felt like? If I could touch you, you’d be in my mouth right now.”
“Fuck.” Was all I could muster.
“I’d swirl over your swollen clit while my fingers fucked you. I’d fucking devour you.” His cruel tone only worsening the problem between my legs.
“Fuck Austin, please don’t stop.” It was like my brain was communicating with my body, creating an imaginary feeling as if it was happening, as if his fingers were actually touching me. But I wanted the real thing. My shifting thighs made a feeble attempt at any added friction.
“Fuck, if I was allowed to touch you, I’d wanna be inside you, I’d want to fuck you. Would you like that?” He’d never said that out loud, we’d never said that out loud, and there it was like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to say.
Silence – Yes I fucking would. I need it right now. Is what I would say if I had any ounce of bravery.
“C’mon baby,” He whispered into my neck, “Wouldn’t you like my cock deep inside of you?” Goosebumps ruptured across every inch of my skin.
Baby
That name never did much for me, but in his voice, god I swore it was different. He’d only used it a time or two before and I’d never had any name make my stomach flip the way his ‘Baby’ did. It was like a warm blanket I never wanted to unravel from.
“Yes.” The buzzing and the wetness in my panties only grew, I didn’t know how much more they could absorb.
“Good girl, you can follow directions.” Teasing, as if he were talking to a hound dog that finally learned a trick.
“What- What would you do next?” My eyes timidly looking up at him, the sight of him only intensifying every blinking nerve in my body.
“Hm. I like when you listen to me. I just might let you cum.”
Pressing my thighs together even rougher only barely aiding the pulsing, driving me toward my finish line. “Fuck.”
“I’d push you to the edge over and over.” His crooked words curled around every blood vessel, pushing my heart into a dangerously fast pulse.
“Multiple times?” I squeaked both in fright and excitement.
He let out a chuckle as if he was proud, probably remembering the couch. “Yeah baby, multiple times. God, I’d hold you there, torturing you with my tongue. Again and again.”
“O-Oh.”
“Then I’d go back to fucking you, burying myself deep inside your wet cunt.” As much as he would probably deny it, I knew he was struggling just as me. I could feel his hard member against my thigh only making my core crave him more.
“I need you to touch me, I take it back. I take it all back. I don’t want this rule anymore.” I wanted him, all of him – no, I needed all of him.
“Nuh uh, that’s not how this works.”
“Please.” I begged.
“Alright, I’ll oblige, just a bit.” His fingers now pressed against my covered clit, over the dress and panties. He began ever so slightly moving them in circular motions. It wasn’t much but it was something. But I wanted more. I grasped his arm and pressed his hand more into me. But he pulled back to his original restrained position. “No.”
I let out a utterly pathetic whine, “I need to cum, please.”
“This is what you get. You can have this or nothing.”
Letting out a groan, “Fine.” He continued his swirling motions barely over my heat. I was so close, every cell blinking with pure unbridled need. I wanted to scream from how much tension was built in my body. I wanted to beg. I’ve never begged for anything in my fucking life. But god did I want to get on my knees and beg right now.
“Please I’m so close.” I whimpered, my desire now dripping down my thigh.
“Yeah?” He asked, “Could you do somethin’ for me darlin?”
“Anything.” I barely got the word out through my accelerated breathing.
“Anything huh?”
I nodded desperately, gripping the sides of my dress, practically vibrating. “Yes- Fuck anything, I’ll do anything. Anything, whatever you want.”
The energy shifted, this time cruel. “Then can you tell me what all that bullshit was about out there? Can you tell me what the fuck this is about?”
My eyes shot open, that was the last thing I expected. I realized that this little game was just a ploy to get my answer. “I-I”
“Nuh uh,” His motions slowed, “I need your words Elsie.” And I was back to just Elsie. It now sounded like the worst possible thing I could ever be called.
My eyes squeezed shut, the borderline painful throbbing in my pussy pleaded me to give in. “If you tell me, I’ll touch you.” He bargained, “That’s all you gotta do, a couple little words and I’ll let you cum. It’s as simple as that.”
My chest dropped, I couldn’t give in. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?” His middle finger giving me slightly more pressure as it slid up and down my covered slit. “C’mon darlin’ give in to me, just tell me. I want to hear it. I want to make you cum.”
I let out the most regretful sigh, “I can’t Aus.”
“Hm.” His hand pulled away, “Guess that’s it huh?”
I ached for his touch back, I wanted to give in so fucking bad. I didn’t want him to leave.
He turned to leave but then returned, rested his hand on the door just above my head and leaned down one last time. His index tracing up my throat and tilting my chin up, “I don’t want you to clean up. I want you to spend the rest of the night in your soaked panties, and every time you feel it, I want you to think of me.” He growled beneath my ear, his voice reverberated through my entire body. It only made the aching in my hips worse. “And I want you to feel it while you’re dancing with your boyfriend.”
He cracked the door open but before leaving he left me with one last thing, “Make sure you wait in here for a while. Wouldn’t want your boyfriend to see you come out of a room with me, looking like that.”
Just like that he was gone, leaving me like this, flustered and bright red. I was throbbing and wet and desperate. I felt so fucking pathetic like I had just lost an easy game.
Suddenly I heard a roar in the party, I finally peak out to a unanimous, “Happy New Year!”
In the center of the party was Austin curled around Aspen locked in a New Year’s kiss. It stung. It stung as if a bee the size of Mount Everest just speared its stinger straight through my heart.
Why did it hurt so much. And why couldn’t I fucking say it.
Next Chapter -> 26 - New Years Pt. 2 [coming soon]
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Against all odds (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 7.
Crossover Peaky Blinders - Hunger Games
Masterlist. Parts: One Two Three Four Five Six
Summary: Nina is the winner of the 71th Hunger Games and everyone around her is happy. Most of all her mentor, Alfie Solomons, who waited 17 years to see one of his tributes win the games. || Six months later, Rose and the rest of the crew visit district 9 to help her with her victory tour. || The president of district 13 is revealed.
Warnings: None. Probably the first chapter that's completely happy. Do not expect another one until the end.
Words: 3k. || Nina belongs to @peakyswritings .
"Ladies and gentlemen, from district 9, the winner of the Hunger Games: Alfred Solomons."
His mind went to that day. Alfie remembered the voice saying his name while the body of his last rival was there. The sickles he used as weapons were still in his hands, dripping blood. He was holding them as if in any minute another tribute would appear from behind the tree. Or a mutt.
Two days ago, a pack of mutt-wolves chased the last five survivors and they killed two of them, one in front of Alfie's eyes. It was a thin boy from district 12, the blood splashing everywhere were still in his memory.
But there was no one there except for a hovercraft. It picked up the last body and for a moment Alfie remained alone, next to the trees, watching the sky. He allowed himself to put the sickles aside and hid his face in his hands.
He won. He really won. In a way. Because Alfie knew that winning the games meant losing his soul. He killed eight people, eight kids and witnessed the death of another one. However, he survived.
His own hovercraft was now over his head. Time to go home. Only then he realised how much he missed his mother, as sick as she was, she could comfort him. A naïve 17 year-old Alfie, thought that the worst was over.
.
"…From district 9, the winner of the Hunger Games: Nina Ferrante."
Alfie's mind went blank.
Nina Ferrante.
He saw some victors approaching him, some of them were openly smiling at him. Others patted his shoulders. But he wasn't fully aware of what was going on. It'd be his mind playing tricks or maybe a dream.
Nina's face was occupying the whole TV screen and the logo from district 9 was next to her.
"She won," was the first thing he said.
"She did!" a happy voice he recognised as Lucy Winters replied to him. Still, he felt he was living a dream. Nothing felt real. "Alfie, wake up! Go! The hovercrafts are fast, probably she'll be here soon. The girl needs you!"
Not longer after her words, a peacekeeper asked Alfie to follow him and both went to a medical centre.
The sterile place with white walls and white floors, was silent. Some doctors and nurses came and went through the corridor were Alfie was waiting.
She did win. The girl did it, even when at the beginning he was terrified and thought she was going to die soon. He specifically said "run away from the cornucopia." Only that Nina did exactly the opposite. She was really stubborn but probably that was one of the reasons of why she survived. That and her mind. Alfie smiled, for the first time and not related to his wife, he smiled. He was absolutely happy, in fact. No doctors or nurses paid attention to him when he laughed.
.
Rose was in her studio finishing Snow's suit for the final ceremony when she saw the last moments of that edition. One of the most difficult editions she witnessed. Nina was there during the final moments. Same way it was Philip eleven years ago. Only two tributes alive. Rose didn't realise she was holding the scissors with such strength that her thumb was purple.
After the 65th games, Alfie asked her not to tell him again what the arena was even if she knew it with anticipation. And she respected his petition. But for the first time, this year, Rose didn't know what the Arena was either because she was focused on other aspects of the control centre. So, for the first time everything was new to her. And it was also, one of the most terrifying arenas.
During the days that the game last, Alfie and Rose saw how despite the inconveniences, the mutts, the traps, the killings, Nina managed to survived everything. They sent her water, food and medicine. That helped, but the rest was up to her.
Rose watched the TV and she heard the last cannon and the voice announcing Nina's victory.
Unlike Alfie who was in shock when it happened, Rose threw her things and ran towards the ninth floor. She knew Alfie wasn't there, but Alissa was. Both women hugged each other and jumped around the table. Alissa remembered the happiness when Alfie won, he was the first tribute who became a victor, since she was an escort. And now, again.
"You need to make her a dress and quickly."
"I need to finish Snow's suit… well the jacket, the pants and the shirt are ready."
"Fuck that! Give that job to someone else! They will fight for work with you now. Focus on Nina, she needs to shine with Caesar, okay?"
"Okay! Oh my god, I don't know what to do!"
Alissa chuckled "calm down, girl. You still have time, probably they'll wait a day or two before Nina's presentation as a victor. Hire some people so they can help you, first."
Rose nodded and left the floor in search of some help. After asking, she found two young stylists. One helped her with the jacket and the other, started to cut the cloth once the design was ready. Rose was doing her job, but her mind was with Alfie and especially, Nina.
.
Alfie could see Nina hours later when doctors let him in. They cured her wounds and hide her scars. They also said she was fine but dehydrated.
Her right arm was connected to an IV when he opened the door. The TV was on, but she wasn't watching it.
"Kid…"
"Alfie."
"Congratulations, Nina. You survived."
"That's good, I think."
"Yeah, it is. It's fuckin' good, kid. How are ya feeling?" Alfie put a hand on her head and stroked her hair.
"I don't know. I fall asleep and I woke up screaming. I think they sedated me, too."
He nodded. He knew, that was inevitable and he couldn't do anything to help her, neither the medics. They could cure her wounds, but not her mind. "If you need to talk…" Alfie started to say but Nina shook her head. So he changed the subject "We're going to be neighbours now. You can visit me, if you want."
The Victor's Village was a solitary place. A bunch of empty houses that no one was going to occupy ever in its totality. Except for insects, stray cats and dust. He was used to that solitary place but now, if he thought about it, the company of at least one person, sounded good.
"Thanks for the offer, Alfie… and thanks."
"I didn't do anything."
"You did. You get me sponsors, I don't know how you did it, but it helped me."
"You're welcome, Nina."
"I want to go back home," Nina admitted and the façade of the rough girl she was wearing for a moment disappeared and Alfie could see a very young girl whose nightmare was about to start. He kissed her forehead.
"Soon, kid. Soon."
Nina closed her eyes and fall asleep again. That night, Alfie didn't leave his chair next to her bed. Maybe because she was tired or maybe because of the drugs, but Nina slept peacefully until the next morning.
Three nights later, doctors allowed Nina to leave the hospital. And in front of the cameras, that very night, she was officially introduced as the new victor of the Hunger Games.
Alfie and Rose were looking at her from behind the cameras.
"Do you remember the promise you made me years ago, luv? If one of my tributes became a victor you…"
"Yes, Al. I do remember and I'm going to do it. I'm going to protect her, I swear for you."
"Why do you swear for me?"
"Because you're the most important thing I know. She'll be safe."
"Do you know that I married the best woman?" he said barely stroking her cheek with his finger.
"Really?" Rose couldn't help but smile "Is she happy?"
"I want to believe that she is."
"Are you happy?"
"I am. Right now, I'm very happy," he answered.
"Then she's happy, too."
They smiled at each other but any expression of love waited until the end of the night. After the celebrations with the whole team in the ninth floor and when they finally allowed themselves to forget the horrors of the games for at least one night.
Victory Tour. Six months later.
Nina found Alfie cleaning the windows of his house that morning. He also swept the floors and fixed his crackled door.
She could help but smiled as she approached him.
"Is this because the cameras are arriving today or because certain stylist will be here as well?"
"Can't a man clean his own house just because?"
"He can, but you can't fool me, Alfie."
"Oh, shut up. Go and take care of that beast of yours."
"Who? Winston? But he's a lovely boy!"
Winston was a stray black cat that appeared one morning, few weeks after Nina started to live in the Victor's village and never leave because she adopted him. Alfie used to say that the cat and Nina had the same mood.
"He's adorable. You just don't know how to understand him."
Alfie rolled his eyes and pointed to her with the broom. "Prepare yourself, kid. Times fly and the train will be here soon."
Nina nodded and waved at him, but she didn't entered her house, but kept walking towards the town. He didn't know where she was going exactly, but he trusted that Nina will be there just in time for the first presentation after the games.
The rest of the morning and early afternoon, he finished the chores and allowed himself to take a shower and a nap before the arrival.
.
A cold wind hit Rose's face when she got out of the train. She was finally in district 9. Alfie was right about the clear sky. Even if it was winter, sun was shining that day and an infinite blue sky was over her. Not high-rise buildings not stupid neon lights. Winter meant very few hours of light, so soon she was going to witness one of those starry nights that Alfie talked about more than once, too.
Alissa was very excited. She was giving orders to the rest of the crew about how they need to behave and what to do. A hairdresser and a make-up artist were with both women, ready to show Nina to the Capitol. And everything needed to be perfect. Not only that day but for the next two weeks as well.
Nina was in her house when the whole committee arrived and so was Alfie. He was trying to explain to her what to expect from Caesar, who was no one but the visible face of the Capitol.
Alissa almost drowned Nina in her arms and told her repeatedly how beautiful she was and how happy she was to see her again. The girl smiled at her, but probably wished she'd release her. Alissa wasn't a bad person, but was too enthusiastic for someone like Nina. Rose just greeted her with a short but warm hug. And probably because the makeup artist and the hairdresser were there, Alfie only gave her a handshake. But the eyes of the lovers spoke for them.
Her house smelled like cookies. Rose figured it out that Nina, same as Alfie, also liked baking, it made sense considering that the flour that whole Panem enjoyed were from district 9.
"Are you ready for today?"
"Not at all. You know that this isn't my thing. I prefer not to do it."
"At least it'll be quick, sweetheart. You just need to show them how happy you are, answer a couple of stupid questions and that's all. Tomorrow in district 12, it'll be more or less the same. They just expect a couple of smiles and empty words."
"As usual."
"Yes, as usual. You can do this. And I have a suprise for you. Well, not for you exactly, but someone told me," she said looking at Alfie "that you're not living alone so, I did something for your man."
Rose opened her suitcase and gave Nina a little shirt and a bowtie for Winston. They didn't know Winston's opinion but for them, he looked adorable when she put the clothes on him. Things like that made the Capitol citizens melt. And in the future, it will help her to get sponsors for the future tributes. People loved cute things and they knew it.
Winston was ready and so was Nina. No pompous dresses this time, just a nice pair of pants and a beautiful jacket.
Despite the animosity towards the whole show around the Games, Nina managed quite well her brief interview with Caesar and as it was expected, they loved Winston and his bowtie, although the cat ran inside the house as soon as he can.
Nina did the same when Caesar finished his questions.
"It's over for now, kid," Alfie said. "Tomorrow we're going to start your tour in District 12."
"I prepared some cards with what you need to say," Alissa interrupted "just read them and you'll be okay. Every district prepare a little celebration for you."
She nodded. "Okay."
Alissa was about to say something else but this time was Alfie who interrupted her "Let her rest. This bullshit can be tiresome and the next days will be chaotic."
Fortunately for Nina, she agreed. Soon there were no one else in her house but she and Winston.
The train provided Alissa, the hairdresser and the makeup artist food, bed and bathrooms. In theory, Rose should be with them but she wasn't.
As soon as they left Nina's house, Alfie offered her to show the surroundings and she accepted. Alissa knew the truth behind his words, so she rushed the rest of the crew to the train.
Finally alone, he took her hand and guided her to his house. It was the same as Nina's house but the decorations were quite different.
Rose saw the picture of a middle aged woman with blue eyes and brown hair. Her factions were very similar to his, so she correctly assumed that she was his mother.
"She was nice."
"She was, yeah. And a good person, too."
"I'm sure she was proud of you."
"Of what? There's no much of me, she'd be proud of."
"Proud of the man you are, Alfie."
Finally he took her face between his hands and kissed her. They saw each other the previous month but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.
"I waited long enough to do this," he said against her mouth.
"Do it again, then."
Taking her to his bed, to his own bed, it felt different. The tribute centre that welcomed them every year or even the house she rented first, and bought then, to be with him every month it wasn't the same. That place, that room as modest as it was compared to the other two, it felt intimate. And he had dreamt more than once about it.
And she had a similar idea.
"I don't want to go," Rose said in his arms, later. "I want to stop time here. Tell me you can do that."
"I can't. I wish I can."
Both knew that Nina's victory was against all odds. It was going to be almost impossible to get another victor from that district soon.
"I'm planning a rebellion," she finally confessed to him. "Eva talked to Tigris and she gave me the address of this man: Aberama Gold. I heard his name one of the times I went to the suburbs. He's a kind of governor there. But I never saw him."
"I figured it out. And it's a dangerous game, luv. But I support it and I know people who can support it, too," he said "But I didn't know that The Capitol had an underworld."
"It has one. The black sheep of the Capitol. The evil twin. The one you hide from the world… but it's there even if you pretend it's not. And it's a very interesting world. Snow killed Gold's wife, it won't be hard to convince him even if he has a price. Probably it will take us a couple of years, but… it's necessary."
"Do you think we can win?"
"Realistically speaking, odds aren't in our favour, Al. We have only one opportunity."
"One is better than zero."
"You're right," she said kissing him, "yet, until that happens, let me enjoy my time here. Next to you." Rose cuddled up against his body and allowed herself to relax as he caressed her hair.
"Do you think there is a universe where we are together for good? An universe where I wake up every day of my life and you're there next to me?" She asked, hiding her head in his chest.
"Maybe. Why not? And If it exists, then that Alfie is the luckiest man on Earth."
.
Next morning while district 12, was preparing the arrival of the new victor. While Lucy Winters and Tommy Shelby were talking with the Mayor and while the people were arriving at the main square. Beyond that, in what people thought it was the ruins of district 13, a man was alone in his office.
He was the president of district 13. A man with high morals and integrity. A man who was born not long after the Dark Days and grew up to see almost every single one of the Hunger Games. At his 60s, he knew enough of life to recognise when the winds of change were approaching.
People were tired. He has several people in the Capitol informing him about the news. And he didn't need an informant or an oracle to know that the districts were ready to take the guns.
He won his place. And he was ready to leave the shadows and reign Panem. But not yet. Not yet. He waited that long, he could wait a bit more.
Time and God, were always there.
A smile appeared on the face of Chester Campbell.
Next
#alfie solomons#alfie x rose#alfie solomons x oc#alfie solomons x ofc#hunger games au#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons fanfic
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Moments in Between - Keep you Safe
Characters: Jason Todd x fem!OC
Rating and warnings: G, no warnings
Summary: Jason takes Andy shopping for a bike helmet.
Masterlist
Jason walked alongside Andy down a shiny wet street in the Gotham sunshine. The gutters were still gurgling, and run off dripped from shop awnings. Her hair was frizzy from getting rained on earlier, and he thought all the flyaways escaping her braid looked impossibly cute.
Hobby shops and fashion boutiques lined the streets by this part of the college campus.
“I though we were getting lunch?” Andy asked.
“We are getting lunch, after you get a bike helmet.” He stopped outside a sports gear shop and jerked his head at the door.
Manikins in skiing gear were posed dramatically in the window on the left and in motorbike gear on the right.
Panic flashed across Andy’s face.
“I- it’s rent week, I don’t think i can-“
“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got it.”
She didn’t look comforted. Damnit. Maybe he should have given her a heads up after all, but there was a high chance she’d sneak off to pick up some secondhand trash for $50 and be no safer than if she wore nothing. Jason understood. Nobody liked feeling like a burden, or a charity case. He wasn’t going to begrudge her her pride. He wasn’t going to keep putting her in danger either.
He held up his hands, placating. “I’m replacing my current helmet anyway, I may as well get both. You just need to pick out something that fits right.”
Her expression twisted. “You don’t have to do that, Jay. Really.”
“If you fall off my bike and crack your head open, I’ll be the one in court for manslaughter. i’m just helping myself here.” He shrugged. “And I want to.”
Her shoulders hiked up around her ears. “…Just a cheap one. Whatever’s on sale.”
He rolled his eyes and pushed the door open. Well, now his pride was on the table.
“Hey Tony, I need you to help my friend here, she’s looking for the best damn bike helmet you’ve got. If she can’t do a HALO jump in it, its not good enough.”
Tony perked up at the same time Andy whirled on him in horror
“You got it!” the shop assistant said and disappeared to the back of the shop.
“Jason!” Andy hissed.
“Would you buy me a shit helmet if you knew you could get me a good one?” he demanded.
She opened her mouth. Closed it again.
“Look, I do alright for myself. What’s the point in even having money if i can’t get basic safety gear for my friends? What kind of asshole do you think i am?”
She chewed on her lip and lowered her head. He wanted to reach a hand under her chin and to her head back up, and narrowly resisted the urge.
“Let me do this for you, Andy. Please.”
Okay then.” She pulled herself up a moment later. “But it has to be a red one.”
He cracked a smile. “You drive a hard bargain. Why red?”
“So I can look cool.”
He laughed. “Sure. You’ll look like a petite Red Hood.”
Andy rolled her eyes. Tony came back with a couple of different styles swinging from his arms.
“Thank you though. Really.”
He waved her off and Tony stepped in. Jason leaned against the desk while she tried on the options. Having decided to play ball she was confident about it and took the exercise seriously. Something in him felt warm at it the sight.
He could take her on real rides now and keep her safe, more than just five minute drop offs. He could show her the city the way he loved it best, an 80mph blur of sights and sounds. He knew she liked it too, he could feel her laughing for joy, pressed tight against his back.
She caught sight of a price tag and blanched. He’d probably have to give it another couple of months before trying to get her a good riding jacket.
Next>>
#jason todd#red hood#jason todd x oc#red hood x oc#jason todd x fem!reader#my fanfic#Moments In Between#dc#fluff#slice of life#i call it the shopping episode#but really its the ‘awkward feelings about letting people buy you thing’ episode#growing up poor makes things difficult in more ways than the obvious
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Aemond Targaryen x fem!OC (blonde strong) /
Aegon II Targaryen x fem!OC (blonde strong)
°• Hēnkirī •°
(Together)
Part 8
•*•
Aemond accompanied Mhaenyra like a shadow to the corridor leading to Aegon's door.
Ser Arryk was watching over it.
With unsteady steps the princess stopped in front of him.
"I would like to visit my future husband before the wedding and his coronation.... If he is still available to speak." She formulated politely.
The knight wordlessly knocked on the door and stepped aside, as if sure that the prospective king was still awake.
No fire was burning inside, only some candles and torches gave sparse warmth and light.
The coldness of the room was clearly noticeable to the petite woman, who shivered slightly.
"Aegon?" She asked as she let her gaze roam searchingly around the room.
"What are you doing here now too, niece? I seem to be in hot demand today."
She could finally make him out at the table where he appeared to be eating.
The closer she got, the more pitiful he seemed to her. He was thin, dressed, in middle-class clothes. She could make out a slight scrape on his face.
All in all, he seemed drained and tired to her.
The one who was to sit on the throne instead of her mother.
He did not appear to be drunk. She had only remembered him that way.
Mhaenyra knew instinctively that he could use someone, someone in the family, to comfort him.
Certainly both Alicent and Otto Hightower were courting the young man's attention, trying to steer him in a certain direction.
She had heard that he seemed to be a real creep.
Still, she would have to marry him.
The young woman had to at least try to be able to act together with him on a foundation of trust.
Aegon did not seem to like the princess's muster. There was disapproval in his gaze.
The two had never had much to do with each other, let alone care for each other. Aegon would describe her as attractive, both then and now. He liked her. Her long white-blond hair, her youthful face, and her feminine body.
Mhaenyra found Aegon's behavior unattractive when she observed it, even if he was visually attractive to her.
However, she would approach Aegon with all the patience and gentleness she could currently muster.
"May I sit down, my prince?"
"If I answer with a 'no', will you leave?" He replied unresponsively, and followed it up with a strange laugh that seemed out of place.
He seemed defiant to her.
The prince rose after a few seconds of silence and slowly distanced himself in the direction of the window.
In the moonlight, she recognized the dark shadows under his eyes even better, and she noticed that he had goose bumps.
"Your chamber is cool, uncle. When you stand at the window so thinly clad..."
She hastily strode toward his bed and pulled off the bedspread. Coming to a stop in front of Aegon, she checked his reaction before placing the blanket around his body.
"... you will catch a cold. Tomorrow is an important day. You should not feel bad."
Briefly, his gaze became gentle before once again any emotion in his eyes disappeared.
"What do you care, Mhaenyra? You don't have to pretend to like me just to soften me up." He hissed, exasperated.
"The only thing you'll really have to do is bear my children." Toward the end of the sentence, the taller one had leaned down slightly toward her ear.
A shiver ran down her spine, she term she couldn't gauge him, and feared for the consequences. She tried not to let on the distaste she felt.
"Right. I would nonetheless be interested in supporting you. If you want it. "
Aegon marveled at how calm she remained. She didn't get angry, nor did she panic. These were usually some reactions he elicited.
"I was prepared all my life to rule. You were not given this. However, you must do it now."
Mhaenyra turned her back on him, and walked through his premises.
"I would like to help you. Help, not manipulate." She added afterward, before waiting for a response.
"And how do you intend to do that? How can you help me?" He asked with a sneer.
She walked back toward Aegon, her hands clasped behind her back. She wrestled a smile from herself.
"We will be married tomorrow. We can use the time we spend together teaching you how to govern. What to consider regarding our past." She suggested.
The prince crossed his arms and playfully looked into her eyes.
"We will spend our time differently, dear princess." His tongue wet his lower lip as he eyed the young woman impressively, visualizing various thoughts.
The princess sighed, she would not get close to this young man as long as he only desired her body.
"Probably, I suppose." Was her terse answer.
Mhaenyra turned to leave.
"My offer to you stands.
I mean this as a friend and ally, not as a forced consort, my King."
She smiled at him one last time and strode purposefully to the door.
"Wait."
His tone was less commanding, more pleading.
The prince was not uncomfortable with her. She didn't get mad at him when he intentionally went overboard. She didn't try to tell him what to do. He wanted to open up to his niece.
Astonished, the blonde girl stopped and turned her questioning gaze on Aegon.
"I don't want to be king." He confessed softly.
"I know." She nodded back.
"We'll make it work." Added herself hesitantly as she strode toward the prince again. He looked crestfallen, and that pained the princess.
Carefully, she put her arms around his neck, which was still wrapped in a blanket by the window, and pulled him into an embrace.
"Are you going to stay here tonight? I have a hard time falling asleep without-"
"Wine? A whore?" She chastised the blond man with a skeptical look.
"Tomorrow will be a terrible day." He muttered discouragedly. He had not even verbally defended himself against her impertinent accusations.
Mindful of the upcoming wedding, of the protection it would afford her family, she decided to agree to his proposal.
She let go of him, walked wordlessly to one side of his bed, and pulled back the covers.
Aegon seemed to realize only then that she was actually staying with him and smiled slightly. He too walked toward the bed and prepared to rest.
Mhaenyra got rid of her stockings and dress. Her undergarment remained as she lay down on the soft pillows.
Aegon preferred to sleep without clothing and this is exactly what he did.
Embarrassed, the princess did not look as he bared his body before likewise lying down in bed.
The thought of sharing a bed with the Targaryen didn't particularly appeal to the young woman, however it didn't bother her too much either.
"I look forward to tomorrow night, then you won't need that scrap of cloth you're wearing on you." Whispered the prince into the darkness of the night.
"Thank you for your reminder." She murmured, as she was suddenly overcome by a strong tiredness. The last thing she thought of was the smell of the pillow, tart and flowery. The smell of Aegon.
A muffled sob jerked the Velaryon from her sleep a second time that night.
She remembered that she had to be in the prince's bed, and her senses were slowly shewing as she got her bearings.
That's when she heard the soft whimpering again.
With her eyebrows drawn together, she looked around for Aegon.
His plaintive sounds nearly tore her heart apart. They sounded incredibly sad, and she wished he wasn't plagued anymore.
It reminded her of a situation with her younger brother, Lucerys. When the children shared a cabin on a cruise, she woke up one night to the sounds Lucerys made that sounded similar to Aegon's. In sleep, one was vulnerable and honest.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she now clearly saw the huddled prince, restless and heated, she acted on her gut instinct.
Without thinking much further, she slid over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
She buried her hands in his wild blond hair and pressed him gently against her.
Aegon flinched, but after a moment wrapped his arms around Mhaenyra's waist as well.
"I am with you." Purred the young woman as she ran her fingers through his curls.
The prince's body relaxed a bit and Mhaenyra was inwardly pleased that she made him feel better.
Aegon was not a disgusting man.
He was a broken child. On his way to becoming that man.
•*•
Part 9
Part 1
Tagslist :3 : @nctma15
(if you wanna be tagged, just Tell me :3)
#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen x oc#fanfic#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd#aemond#aemond x reader#aemond x you#prince aemond#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii x reader#Aegon II x OC#Aegon#Aegon II x you#aegon targaryen#Aegon Targaryen x OC#Aegon Targaryen x reader
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make luv universe
— the first love
pairing: tariq st. patrick x black!fem!oc (imaan).
warning: none.
prompt: "can I love you in your love language?”
tags: @neeville @neewrites + anyone else w/ a love for tariq :)
“What’s your love language?
Physical touch. The primary way he enjoyed to receive love. His mother and grandmother were affectionate, his father, not so much. Having being hugged and kissed on growing up, it was something he grew to adore.
He’d been in other relationships and situation ships before,m and struggled to find a sense of appreciation. Not because of purposeful ignorance on their end, but because they tried to show affection in ways he struggled to receive. They didn’t learn how to love him. So, when Imaan wrapped her arms around his torso, head rested against his back, and muttered those words into his shirt, his heart grew three sizes.
“Can I love you in your love language?”
“Yes.”
[…]
He enjoyed her hands on him. Not only in a sexual way, either. The way her fingertips traced the ridges of his build, how her palm rested on his back when they stood side by side and he would get overwhelmed. That was how he found himself laid on his stomach with his head against a pillow and his arms tucked underneath it. She’d offered him a massage.
Imaan hummed along to the soft melodies of Xscape as she kneaded the tension out of his body. The mood was set to that of mellow relaxation. The lights were off. His college dorm illuminated by the streetlights of the city. The hustle and bustle of nightlight harmonized with the vocalists’ song that bled out of his television.
He slipped into a place of unconsciousness for a moment. The pressure of her palms and the gentle caressing of his skin by her manicured fingers sent him into a dimension he’d never been before. One filled with quietness and stillness. Where he laid peacefully lillipads of peace that drifted down streams of joy.
She instructed him to turn over. Tariq’s hands cupped her the thick thighs that bracketed his hips. The action alone made her clench above him. His eyes met hers. Imaan smiled innocently rubbed along his chest slowly and meticulously. Her fingers caught his chain and she tugged on it teasingly.
“Careful,” Tariq muttered. Imaan raised an eyebrow and lowered her body. Her chest, covered by a thin t-shirt, hovered above his. And her lips, God, her lips ghosted over his. Again, she tugged on the expensive piece of jewelry against his brown skin. “You’re a tease.”
“Do somethin’ about it,” Imaan replied lowly. Her eyes had deepened in color and her tone was laced with lust and desire. “If you really bout it.”
Tariq grabbed her neck and kissed her. “Lay back, baby.”
[…]
Love making was an act of poetry. A physical manifestation of literary desire and expression. If ever given the opportunity to sit with a sheet of paper and a pencil, oh how’d he recall his favorite expression of art. The art of making love.
The clenching over her heat around him was a trap he willfully walked into. No blindfold was needed to take a step over the edge and into a deep, wet abyss he would drown in forever.
Her song was different every time. A range of octaves and pitches yet somehow still angelic and beautiful that he’d allow it to play on repeat at every opportunity. And his favorite lyric, his name, came from her like a record-scratch stuck on a loop.
“I’m close, baby.” Imaan’s voice cracked as she reached her climax. Her face was buried in his neck and her legs shook around his waist. Tariq whispered sweet encouragements into her ear as he was brought to his end. “So good for me…”
[…]
“Thank you,” Tariq whispered into her hair. They laid chest-to-back in the petite college dorm bed. Imaan dropped her hand over his and entangled their fingers. She raised their hands and her lips brushed against his knuckles.
“Love you…”
#saturnville#original writing#original content#original characters#original story#black love#black!reader#fic inspo#tariq st. patrick#tariq st. patrick x black!reader#tariq x imaan#power#power book ii: ghost#michael rainey jr
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For The Longest Time: Chapter 4
William Miller x Fem!OC (Lorelei Giang)
Masterlist : Triple Frontier Masterlist
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Summary: To celebrate the youngest member of their family's birthday, the gang goes out for a beach day, and Lorelei has a new understand for Santiago
Warnings: Swimming?!?!? mentions of laci's past and the physcial abuse she endoured, mentions of weight, weight lose, starvation, dad mode santi <3 mentions of a near drowning in the past (the last chapter of LaL), Miller men trauma, parent death, talk of drug overdoses and addiction. I think that's it. Oh, I suppose accusations of cheating too.
A/N: This is def a filler chapter. It serves to further relationships and dynamics and lead up the end. I think after everything the last few chapters, a nice chapter is nice.
*******************
Another month in and things have eased around them. Lorelei and Santi kept their distance from each other but it had calmed down. Benny got over his irritation of Will keeping secrets and was increasingly excited to be a biological uncle. Lorelei had also met Frankie and Jana’s daughter, Rosie; a cute 3-year-old. In fact, her birthday was the celebration they were all out for right now. It was a beach trip, driving an hour out to get to the coast. Turning 3 and only in day care part time, she didn't have friends that she saw outside of daycare just yet, so Jana and Frankie decided she was old enough to go to the beach under the supervision of several adults.
Frankie, Jana, Rosie, Santi and Laci rode in one car, Laci being the unofficial babysitter for Rosie as the two bonded quickly. Miller’s and their girls (god forbid Lorelei ever hear someone call her Will’s girl) road in in another one. It had been a hot summer, so the water felt good on everyone. At 4 months along, Lorelei could still swim unhindered and enjoyed going far out into the water. She knew it stressed Will out, but he never told her what to do. She liked that about him, he simple waded in the water, watching her and she knew if there was an issue, he’d be out there in a moment. It was kinda nice, if she was being honest, the idea that she had the freedom to be herself but that she was safe while doing it. Will was going to make a good dad, even if this wasn’t the ideal situation.
He still never removed his shirt, the tight gray fabric stretching across his shoulders as he swam and wrestled Ben in the sand.
Lorelei was taking a break, sitting on a towel with Alice drinking a sprite that Will brought her as she watched Santi and Laci sitting in the water playing with Rose. It was cute, she had to admit. Lorelei still wasn’t fond of Santiago but she’d warmed up to Laci. Lorelei just didn’t get her. Girls like that, pretty, petite blonde white girls that wore pink dresses and had attractive rich boyfriends were generally the kind of girls that caused problems for her. Maybe it was bullying, maybe it was racism, maybe it was regular mean girl behavior but it never spelled anything good for her. Laci seemed genuine though, and after Will explained what she had been through, it made a little more sense why he was the way he was. They made a cute couple, and it was funny seeing the intense man so soft and happy with his fiance and his goddaughter.
“I can’t fuck’n stand her.” Alice spoke next to her, sipping her drink and Lorelei turned to him.
“Huh?”
“Oh come on, I know you see it. She drives me crazy with her giggling, her stupid clothes, her squeaky voice. Irritating.”
Lorelei rolled her eyes. “Eh, she’s just living. It’s not my thing but I think she deserves to be happy.”
“Oh for sure, for sure.” Alice assured, pausing before getting to her real point. “I think something’s going on between her and Ben.”
At that, Lorelei couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Oh, come on! Look at them!” She motioned to where the couple were laughing in the water. Santi was gently splashing Laci and Laci hiding behind Rosie. “She’s enamored with him, no way he’d cheat.”
Alice wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know. Did you know they used to sleep together?”
“What?!” That’s weird. Santi and Laci got together a few months after she got back in the states. Did Laci cheat on Santi? She didn’t think she had it in her, and Benny worships the ground Santi walked on, or maybe that's why, he wanted to have what Santi-
“Yeah, Ben and her used to have sleep overs at Laci’s and fall asleep on the pull out couch.”
Oh, that. “Alice,” She smacked her. “That’s not what I thought you meant.”
“It’s still weird.”
“It’s a little odd in their 30’s I guess, but if it was happening in the fucking living room of Santi’s house, it’s gotta be pretty innocent.”
“Mm” was her non committal answer.
Jana called from on top of Frankie’s shoulders. That was a strong man for being in his 40’s. “WHO WANTS TO PLAY CHICKEN!”
Laci immediately got excited. “ME- Oh.” She stopped when she looked at Santi, and sat back down. “Actually, never mind!”
Lorelei noted the guilty look on Santi’s face and he looked down, playing with Rosie, but Will came running up to the couple and grabbing a squealing Laci. With ease, he pulled her up to sit on his shoulders to join their friends in chicken.
“What was that about?” Lorelei asked Alice. Alice was an outsider like her, but she knew more about the strange group than she did.
“Watch Santi as he turns.”
She did, Santi turning to catch Rose who was trying to run away.
“See that scar on his neck? Had spinal surgery a few years ago. That, and his knees are shit. He can’t hold up Laci like that, even if she weighs 50 pounds.”
Lorelei looked back to where they were, Laci’s hands clasped with Jana's, the four the them laughing and smiling and throwing harmless insults. He looked good like this… strong, capable, fun
Alice spoke again. “Aren’t you jealous?”
“Of what? It’s not like I can play chicken 4 months pregnant.”
“Your man’s head is literally between her legs.”
She had to scoff at that. “He’s not my man. We aren’t together.”
“You’re having a baby.”
“Not the same thing.”
A wild Benny came out of no where, grabbing Alice’s arm and pulling her to the water just as Laci over took the over couple, Jana and Frankie falling back. “We’re next!”
Santi walked up to the now-empty towel, him dripping wet and Rosie bundled up in her Paw Patrol towel. Skye, of course. The pilot pup, just like her dad. “Mind if we sit here?”
She gestured for him to go ahead, a fussy Rose in his arms, slowing losing the battle with sleep as she clung her her uncle. Santi sang to her, soft and low in a beautiful tenor.
“Luna de Xelajú que supiste alumbrar
en mis noches de pena,
por una morena
de dulce mirar,
luna de Xelajú, me diste inspiración,
la canción que hoy te canto,
regada con llanto
de mi corazón.”
Soon enough the little one was asleep, despite the noises from in the water.
“That was beautiful.” Lorelei spoke softly, extending an olive branch to the man. He was going to be in her circle for likely the rest of her life, she might as well ease the tension.
“Thank you, it’s one of Laci’s favorites when she-” He stopped, hesitating.
“When she what?”
Santi looked down at the sleep child in his arms, carefully picking little leaves or other things from the ocean out of her hair. Frankie had braided her hair back tightly. Rose had thick, tight curls from her Ethiopian ancestry, and Frankie learned all the Jana taught him on proper hair care. She always liked Frankie the most, and this was just a solidifier. Frankie was a natural mediating between all of them and an expert in cooling down Miller brother disagreements. He was always level head, treated Jana like a queen, and adored his daughter.
“Just when Laci… when she needs to calm down.”
Ah, her ptsd. “I see. Well, you have a beautiful singing voice, she’s very lucky.”
He smiled at that, looking back up at the beachline when Alice won, sending Laci flying back. He looked ready to go at any point.
“She can’t swim. She says she can but it’s more like treading water.”
“Will won’t let her drown.”
Santi sighed, watching at the three couples set up for a threeway fight in the setting sun. “I know. He saved her once before. Last year for her birthday we went to a lake for a weekend and the boat tipped over. I could barely stand tall enough to breathe, so you can imagine she just went under.” He shifted uncomfortably, and Lorelei could see he didn’t like talking about it. “I couldn’t help her at all, I couldn’t see a thing, and Will scooped her up.”
He chuckled softly. “She calls me her short king.” His eyes were still intently on Laci, who was happy as can be. “I know I’m a lot, but you haven’t seen her the way I have, seen how much work she’s put into getting better. When I found her that day last year, I thought she was dead. Her lips were blue, her skin was practically gray and she had a huge gash in her forehead, blood dripping down her face. 20 pounds lighter, if you can believe it. I’m so fucking proud of her. She’s got her own job, helping others no less. She’s doing so much better. I could never have been that strong.”
Jesus, that girl went through hell, but she saw it now. She saw Santi, understood him.
“You love her a lot.”
“She’s the light of my life.”
It wasn’t long before they all emerged, ready to get on the road after a long day of gift giving and quality time. This was nice, she thought. A good day for everyone.
*
“Saw you and Santi were talking there for quite a while, everything okay?” Will asked as he put their dirty clothes and towels in the wash, insisting that he wasn’t going to have beach water ‘molding up’ his house, and was about ready to go take a shower.
“Yeah.” Lorelei assured him, smiling as she rested on the couch (where Will laid down a throw blanket beforehand, the germaphobe). “He’s kinda alright.”
She saw Will smile out of the corner of his mouth; she knew how important these men were to her. “Yeah, he’s fine, I guess.”
“Hey William?”
“Yeah?”
“Got any baby names?”
Will looked up from where he was adding his own mix of fabric softener and detergent. “Oh. Uh, I guess we should start talking about that. It’s up to you, in the end though-”
“William, come on.” She knew what he was doing. He always differed to her, wanting to be the gentleman, but she wanted him to take charge sometimes.
He started his washer and walked over, setting another blanket down before sitting with her. “I guess I don’t really know, Emily and I -my ex-fiance- we had a few names but… nothing concrete.”
“Like what?”
Will smiled that smile she was begin to love so much, a tinge of blush at his cheeks; or maybe it was from the sun. Laci forced sunscreen on him extensively though. “It’s kinda an old man name but, it’s my pops name.”
“Your dad?”
At the suggestion, Will burst out in laughter. “Oh god no, fuck that bastard. No, I mean my grandpa. He taught me all I know, real southern gentleman. God knows without him, I would have turned out like my dad.”
Lorelei didn’t believe that for a second. “What the name?”
“Gideon. It’s a bible name, you know, my family, we’re baptists”
“I like it. Naming him after a good man, the name is nice too.”
His nervous smile brighten, those blues eyes sparkling at her and she wondered what she had to do to make them shine like that again.
“I thought maybe. We could do something Vietnamese?”
And just like that, her heart swooped. Lorelei Ngoc Giang knew she was falling for William Miller. There was no way to deny it.
“Y-yeah… yeah that would be nice…” It was such a simple gesture, but something that showed he cared about her, her culture, and the past of her that would be passed on to their child. “I like Háo… or Đai…”
“Gideon Háo… I like that a lot.”
She leaned in, resting her hair on his shoulder. “And for a girl?”
She felt him shrug. “I dunno. I thought maybe… it would be nice to have a flower name for the middle name, like Rosie.”
That caught Lorelei’s attention. “Her middle name is a flower? So what, she’s got two flower names.” And she thought Jana and Frankie were the sensible ones.
“No,” Will laughed, shoulders shaking. “Her full name is Fatima Rosa-Maria.”
More lore. “Fatima is interesting. Is Jana muslim?” Fatima was the name of one of Muhammeds daughters.
“No. Fatima was Santi’s older sister. She pretty much raised Santi and Frankie growing up, Franks mom was dead and his dad was an addict, so Santi’s mom took him in, spent more time at Santi’s than his own home. Mrs. Garcia worked a lot however, so Fatima raised them, kept them fed and alive. She died of an overdose a little before Rosie was born, so they named their daughter after her.”
“And the name Fatima?”
“There’s a town in Spain called Fatima, from back pre-spanish inquisition. Couple decades back there was a supposed apparition of the Virgin Mary in that town, so it became a girls name for Spanish girls and Muslim girls.”
The girls name proved more difficult. Lorelei didn’t like the flower names. Only one she liked was Rose and she couldn’t very well use that one. Other names were shot down by them both left and right. They decided to table it until they could actually get a name book.
“Alright.” Will slapped his thighs as he stood. “Time to show, then go to bed.” Old as man.
Then Will’s phone rang, Will smiling when he saw his moms name pop up. “Hey ma- hey, you cry’n?” His southern accent alway got more pronounced when he was around h’s parents. Lorelei liked his mom. She was sweet, welcoming, and despite her shock, she took the news of the pregnancy well. Lorelei thought she was just happy to see grandchildren coming. Will’s dad was a man of few words, and even less once he learned they were expecting, but not together. Beating his wife and child apparently wasn’t as shameful as having a child outside of marriage. “Whatever he did, just call the police and I’ll be there in 20 minuets ma.” Will was already pulling on his shoes when suddenly he stopped, everything freezing and his handsome face going blank as he dropped his phone.
“William?” Lorelei rushed to him, going to check his vitals to see if he had fallen sick. Her hands touched at his neck, feeling for a temp and getting his pulse. It was erratic. “William, babe, I need you to look at me, do you need medical attention?” Every worst case scenario she knew was possible flooded through her head, trying to get his attention until he finally spoke.
“My dad just died. He… he had a heart attack.”
********************
A little tension eased, a little tension gained?
@pimosworld @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @milkymoon2483 @poeedameronn@itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @babymills16
#William miller#will ironhead miller#triple frontier#William miller x oc#William miller smut#william miller angst#William miller comfort#fem oc#triple frontier fanfiction
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