#i am about to become the most insufferable person you will ever know for the next 9 weeks

[mimiiq]

RWBY FANS RISE

[arklay]

once upon a time i liked a ship for what it was and then i saw how the fandom treated it and now i have visceral hatred towards it (harsh but not far off)

[nomazee]

Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉

May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢

Take your time! ❤️❤️

this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3

my 1k event!

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“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 

Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 

“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 

“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 

“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 

“It’s ‘you and I.’”

“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 

Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 

“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 

“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 

“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 

In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 

You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 

“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 

“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 

He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 

“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 

“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on your face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 

“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 

“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 

“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.

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gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes

[atinystraynstay]

Game Night - Yoon Jeonghan

Synopsis: Jeonghan was the type of guy who joked around, the type to be not so serious. I guess that's why you never took his flirting to be anything more than him trying to get you to laugh. Jeonghan was now determined to make you see differently.

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x fem reader

Genre: friends to lovers! playful competitiveness with Jeonghan

Word Count: 1.8k

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"So, y/n, what are the chances of you letting me be yours for the night?" Jeonghan asked teasingly. "Maybe when you learn to stop cheating at Guess Who!" You groaned.

It was a typical Sunday night for you and Jeonghan. You two always had game nights together, ever since you can remember. Both of you were quite competitive, so you were equal competitors for one another. At this point, most of the members have given up on playing against Jeonghan anyways.

Jeonghan and you had become good friends over the past few years. However, you never believed Jeonghan was into you. He sometimes liked to flirt with people because he thrived on making people feel uncomfortable for a second before making them laugh. He definitely was a trickster.

Recently though, Jeonghan didn't see his flirting towards you as just teasing. He was starting to realize he was starting to like you. More than a friend. It took a lot to scare Jeonghan but what scared him the most was you ever finding out about his little secret. If anything, he amplified his flirting with you to try to keep his crush concealed for a little bit longer.

He was sure he would tell you eventually. He just didn't know when.

"I can't help that you are bad at dropping hints. Seriously, y/n. You make it too easy for me!"

You rolled your eyes at Jeonghan's antics. To anyone, they might find his confidence insufferable. However, to you, you found it endearing. Jeonghan was the man who could be silent when he needed to be, especially when encountering new experiences and new people. When he was comfortable and relaxed, he let his true colors shine.

You were just blessed to be one of the lucky ones who got to experience his entire rainbow.

"Okay, let's actually play this time. Honest and fair." "Honest and fair."

I his mind, the gears were turning. Sure, he wanted to win the game but he had an alternative motive. A lot was on the line.

"Have you selected who I am going to guess right?" You asked challengingly.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes playfully but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Whenever he was around you, he found himself smiling brighter than ever before. You just managed to pull that side out of him oh so easily.

He also has never encountered someone who was maybe just as competitive as he was.

"Yeah, angel. I'm ready to watch you get frustrated. You're really cute when you get flustered, you know? I always love the way your nose scrunches up and you get a bit red in the face." "That doesn't happen,' you lied. "Oh right, it doesn't when it is with anyone else. I guess I just have that effect over you," he snickered.

You could feel your cheeks heating up the more he spoke. It didn't help he was staring you down with that smug grin on his face.

God, why does he have to be so damn attractive?

"Shut up," you muttered. "Let's just play, ok?"

He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. He was easily amused by how easily he could make you crumble.

One of the very first things that Jeonghan noticed about you was how independent you were. You weren't afraid to call people out on their bullshit, and always felt the freedom to voice your opinion. You weren't the type of person who needed to rely on others to do something.

It was quite the treat to watch you lose your train of thought if he just looked at you. You often forgot what you were going to say the moment Jeonghan said something flirtatious to you. He almost didn't register the possibility of you liking him back until he noticed how you looked away to try to conceal the wide smile on your lips and pink blush coating your cheeks.

The two of you have been doing this waltz around confessing your feelings for a while now. And frankly, Jeonghan was getting tired of playing that game. He wanted something new.

"Pretty ladies first," Jeonghan announced.

There you go again, blushing at his words. It was almost too easy.

"Does your person have facial hair?"

He took a moment to act as if he he had to think about it. You raised an eyebrow, knowing that he was up to something but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

"Oh come on, Hannie, we just started. There's no way you forgot already who your character is," you teased.

His heart fluttered every time you called him that petname. A lot of people called him Hannie. But when you say it? It was music to his ears. It made him feel all warm and tingly at the prospective of him being exclusively yours and you being all his.

"No, my character doesn't. I was just trying to make you annoyed again," he snickered.

You rolled your eyes but kept a light smile on your lips. Anyone else would be underneath your skin, but he just had this way of finding his antics endearing. Your pointer finger got to work at flipping down the 8 characters you successfully eliminated.

"So, my sweet girl," he began. Oh, here we go. "Does your character have glasses?"

You smirked as he guessed incorrectly. You looked up at him with this look of amusement on your face. Honestly, he has never found you more attractive than when you let your competitive side free. He liked a challenge.

And getting to be your man was his greatest challenge yet.

"No strike, buddy. Better luck next time."

You and Jeonghan continued going back and forth like this for a few rounds. Jeonghan had still had six character cards flipped up, whereas you only had one. You were about to go in for the kill.

"Is your person Charlotte?"

Finally! You beat Jeonghan!

"Oh, I'm sorry. That's incorrect," he smirked.

Your eyes grew wide as they flickered between the game board and Jeonghan. That was impossible. You had literally one character card left. Your eyes narrowed on him as he just sat there with a wide grin on his lips. He had his elbows resting on the table as he watched I amusement.

"You said honest and fair this time," you whined. "And I have been honest! You were asking for my person, and all the things you were asking did not match up with who I selected." "Oh really now? Okay smartass, prove it."

Gladly.

Very slowly, Jeonghan got up to make his way over to you. You raised an eyebrow, but with each step he took towards you, your heart beats faster and harder. What was he doing? You wanted to question him but you were drawn speechless. Again. Only Yoon Jeonghan could make you tongue-tied. It was as if you were glued to your seat too as you watched him make the short journey from his end of the table towards yours.

"I'll describe my person to you. Maybe you accidentally flipped them down."

His voice was now softer, almost deeper. What is going on? All you could do was nod your head, eyes trained on him in anticipation.

"My person also has these eyes that quite literally are like two disco balls. They capture whatever light is reflected into them. I can't even tell you what color their eyes are because I've never see a shade like it before. But it is my favorite color." He had now approached your side the table, leaning against it as he looked down at you. "And just as bright of a smile to match."

You wanted to melt into a puddle before him with how warm and fuzzy he makes you feel by just doing the simplest of things. It wasn't fair.

"My person has long hair. Sometimes they curl it, somewhat they straighten it. Each time though, I want to run my fingers through it."

As he spoke, he lifted on hand to run through your hair. He tucked a few strands behind your ear. His fingertips moved forward until they grazed against your cheek. He didn't miss the opportunity to cup your cheek, keeping your head tilted up towards him so you couldn't look away no matter how badly you got flustered.

"My person also has this infectious laughter that makes me want to know every little joke, every little secret they might have. She also has this adventurous, competitive side of her that is so attractive. I think you two would get along just fine," he winked.

Your lips were slightly parted as you gazed up at him. This had to be a dream, right? There was no way this was actually happening.

"Y/n, you asked for my person. It's been you this whole time," he whispered.

For the first time, he seemed almost at a loss for words. It as if he couldn't believe he actually confessed to you. And now that his feelings were out in the open, he was afraid of the repercussions of being so vulnerable with you. His biggest fear was losing you, and he was afraid he was heading in that direction.

Slowly, you stood up. In fear, Jeonghan removed his hand from your face. Fuck, how can I fix this?

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and he didn't hesitate to hold your waist. He looked at you with excitement now in eyes, almost like a little boy on Christmas Day. You couldn't help but giggle at how adorable he looked.

"What are you waiting for, Hannie? You've got me where you've always wanted to me," you whispered.

He didn't need to be told twice. Ever so gently, as if you were made out of glass, he pressed his lips against yours. He couldn't fight the smile that grew on his lips. He squeezed your hips affectionately before pulling you in closer. You tilted your head at the right angle to kiss him deeply, without holding back anymore.

The feeling was indescribable. It was a mixture of joy and relief, knowing that years of pining after you finally amounted to this moment. He could really let every emotion, every thought of you free and not just dwell in his mind. And the best part was that it was reciprocated.

You were the one to break the kiss at first but kept your face close to his. You wore a similar goofy smile, just as in disbelief that you kissed not only your best but but the man of your dreams.

"I can't believe you used a board game to confess your feelings to me." "But it looks like I won after all," he smirked.

You rolled your eyes playfully before leaning up to press your lips against his again.

[nomadwrites]

bubblegum pink ⋆˚✿

gojo satoru

summary ⋆୨୧⋆ in which you've managed to convince the greatest jujutsu sorcerer of your time into getting pink highlights. what could go wrong? a lot, you learn.

contents ⋆୨୧⋆ spoilers!, pure fluff & rusty writing

notes ⋆୨୧⋆ let's start off easy, shall we? feedback is most certainly welcome & would be much appreciated! enjoy ₊˚ෆ

"come on, it's only temporary!"

"not a chance! do you know how much time and effort i put into caring for these lustrous locks?"

"it'll grow out anyways," you huff, setting down the contents of the hair dye kit on the bathroom counter. "and here i thought you were the adventurous type."

"adventure is one thing, but this? this would be an act of vandalism," satoru feigns a look of betrayal, silver lashes framing his wide blue orbs, "like defacing the mona lisa."

you gasp in exaggeration, clasping a hand over your mouth. if there was one thing on the boy’s long list of things he loved about you, it'd be your ability to keep up with his personality.

"sure. but don't you get tired of always having the same old hairstyle? maybe it'd be nice to switch it up every now and then, yknow?"

"i hardly doubt anyone could ever get tired of this." he gestures to himself, standing tall, a smirk gracing his features.

“you’re insufferable.”

“and you love that about me.”

you do your best to hide the smile that threatens to break free, chewing on your bottom lip. “oh but you’d look absolutely gorgeous,” you plead, voice dripping with honey as you cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the countertop. you bat your lashes at him, round doe eyes peering into sparkling azure pools.

the look you give him makes his heart do flips and his gaze softens ever so slightly. he can't say no to you, not when you're gazing up at him with those puppy-dog eyes of yours. you’re perfectly aware of the effect you have on him, but that’s not to say you’d ever take advantage of him. if anything, you’re just as smitten.

satoru adores gratifying you, answering to your every beck and call, no matter the request, even if they can be a little odd at times. who was he to deny you anything when you looked so entrancing?

he pretends to ponder, drumming his fingers along the cool ceramic of the sink counter. if you're quiet enough, you might hear the way the gears in his head shift as he puts on a show of overtly dramatised deliberation. it almost makes you snort, but after a minute or two of silence, he caves in, shoulders slumping.

"if it makes you happy," he breathes, flicking his gaze back to you as you perk up with excitement, light practically radiating off of you. he might come to regret this in a few hours, but when he sees the way your eyes sparkle with a radiance that seems so pure, he thinks it won’t be so bad. after all, it is only temporary.

"just so i get to hear it again," he pauses, slender fingers intertwining with yours as he guides you over to him and plops down onto the closed seat of the toilet, long legs splayed on either side of you. "you think i'm gorgeous?"

“not quite yet,” you say, running your fingers through his silver locks, admiring the soft lavender undertones. his glasses are sitting just above the tip of his nose, brilliant sapphire depths on full display. no matter how many times you’ve looked him in the eye,, it always manages to knock the air out of your lungs. “i’ll see what i can do.”

“aren’t you a sweetheart?”

“i am.”

he exhales, humming in agreement as he relaxes under your touch and relishes in the scent of your skin, not the fragrance of perfume or shampoo, but you.

this is nice, you think. free time has always been hard to come by, even more so for gojo than you. things had changed after the star plasma vessel incident. he had changed, and although he did his best to hide it, you knew better. you were there to ground him, to remind him of his humanity and his purpose for becoming a sorcerer. you were there to keep him afloat.

"so!" you clap, startling him enough to knock his glasses askew, "let's get started!"

"booo," he pouts, like some child. he likes to think you're like this because of him, that you've spent so much time with him you've essentially become a miniature satoru gojo. the thought of it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something he really only feels with you, despite how popular he is with people.

you get to work, skimming through the pamphlet of instructions. satoru attempts to help you, mostly by staring whilst seated on the toilet, questioning if you really knew what you were doing. you stick out your tongue at him as did he, tugging on his lower eyelid.

you manage to end up with a bowl of bright pink sludge, the scent of chemicals wafting through the enclosed space of your bathroom. satoru grimaces, both at the smell and how awfully pigmented the dye seemed, cautiously eyeing the mixture held between your gloved hands.

“no turning back now.”

“you’re sure this is temporary?”

“mhmm!” you say, throwing a towel over his shoulders to shield his black linen shirt from any stray drops of hair dye. contrary to popular belief, the all-powerful jujutsu sorcerer doesn’t make use of his infinity when there was no real need to, his reasoning something akin to him wanting to experience moments of normalcy with those close to him.

“i’m great aren’t i? strong, handsome with a heart of gold,” he’d said, standing in akimbo.

“in an alternate universe, sure.”

you smile at the memory, recalling the way he tutted when you responded, earning chuckles from both shoko and geto.

“y’know on second thought–” satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “maybe blue would be a better option? make my eyes pop and all that,” he stalls, turning to look at you.

“it’s not gonna be this bright toru, it’ll be a lot lighter once we rinse you off. besides, i’ve only got pink right now–“

“great! so we should–“

“but you already said we could–“

and you’re both tugging, trying to grab ahold of the bowl. “toru stop it! you’re gonna–“

splat.

"ah," he blinks.

silence falls between the both of you, letting the sound of droplets hitting the floor echo loud in your ears. you’re wide eyed in disbelief, and it takes you a moment before you press your lips together in a futile attempt to conceal the snort that bubbles from your throat.

———————-

“don’t you look pretty?” geto teases, snapping a photo of satoru’s lifeless body as he sits limp at his desk, looking as if his soul had left his body. you’re sure it did last night after rinsing him off in the shower, fully clothed, the sight of him drenched in fuchsia finding a permanent home in your brain. shoko echoes after the raven-haired boy, resting her head on a closed fist.

satoru’s once moonlit hair now a splotchy mess of soft pink, the hair dye staining his eyebrows an even brighter shade of bubblegum. you had to practically drag him out the bathroom by the feet afterward.

“what have you done?” he whined, voice breaking.

“me?!” you gasped, “you had a part to play in this too!”

it was a miracle he’d even changed out of his wet clothes, albeit it taking around an hour or so. you’re sure he laid on the floor for the rest of the night after you’d left, geto being the first to find him in the exact same position this morning. thankfully, you hadn’t had to drag him to class.

at the very least, this would be another fond memory you’d share together.

[obsessedelusional]

bane of your existence

paring ↬ Abby Anderson x fem!reader

summary ↬ Isaac pairs you with hard headed, Abby Anderson. She can’t keep a patrol partner to safe her life. That is until she meets you, the two of you slowly become close. Maybe a little too close because apparently everyone thinks the two of you are an item.

word count ↬ 2k

authors note ↬ first Abby oneshot omg!! I am so far up Abby Andersons ass that legally I have no choice but to write for her. Here’s a cute lil fluffy moment. I got more stuff in the works, hope y’all enjoy ᜊ☻︎

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated!! ((poorly proofread))

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“Wake up.”

You groan and turn your back to insufferable voice that wakes you up way too damn early everyday. It’s a lost cause there’s a pair of hands shaking you gently. Which is strange because normally they’re a lot rougher with you.

“What time is it?” You ask still not facing her.

“5:45.”

“We don’t have to be there till eight. Why are you awake so damn early?” You snap, sitting up in your bunk. Facing the bane of your existence, Abby Anderson. Or so you pretend secretly enjoying her constant annoyance.

“Couldn’t sleep. So I thought it’d be best we head out early to catch the scars off guard.” Abby explains, stood there arms crossed looking down at you.

—

Three months ago the two of you we’re partnered for patrol. You didn’t know much about her before that, only the negative comments you heard from coworkers. Abby didn’t have the nicest personality and that often rubbed people the wrong way. Her hard headed ways make her nearly impossible to work with. Doesn’t help her case that when she’s not working she alone in some corner of the base, nose in a book. Often ignoring anyone’s attempt at a conversation. Only friendly to the people she joined the WLF with and half those relationships strained by the past.

Isaac thought your positive attitude would rub off on Abby. Buttering you up with compliments about your ability to not take anyones shit, calling you stubborn without using the word. Then talking about how she’s been through several partners in the last year, the longest lasting less than a month. Ever since Manny left his position to do something else, leaving her alone.

By the end he was borderline begging and following it up with apologies. You walked out of his office filled with curiosity about this mysterious women. The next day Abby was in your room uninvited and waking you up way too early. Somehow you’ve lasted this long and now you’re roommates. Manny moving out of bunk to be with his girlfriend and you having no roommate, Isaac made the decision to room you two together. Which only made Abby’s presence more constant.

Which is fine for the most part, you’d never admit it but part of you enjoys it. The constant bickering is fun and sometimes Abby lets a side of her personality slip you’ve never seen before. The two of you unintentionally becoming friends, which Abby would never say out loud. She even started hanging out with your friends. Probably spending an entirely too much time together, people began to take notice.

—

You stand up from your bed and make the short walk to your dresser, finding your work clothes for the day. Abby sits in a chair, fumbling with her backpack as an attempt to not watch you undress. You had caught Abby’s eyes lingering one second too long the first week. You looked back at Abby and her eyes were so obviously on your ass. She looked up a second later and saw you smirking. That was the end of that and now she does everything in her power to not get caught. Today you quickly get ready, sensing Abby’s eagerness to leave.

“Hurry up.” She says as you’re almost done.

“Why are you in such a hurry? We’re going to be two hours early at this point.” You ask, irritated.

“Quit complaining.” She spits.

“Quit being such a hard ass.” You spit back. Abby only rolls her eyes in response, so you add: “I don’t want to hear shit about my bad attitude today.”

“You always have a bad attitude.” Abby says, with a small grin.

“Do not.” You scoff at her comment.

“Do too.”

“Never did before. I think you’re starting to rub off on me. Or maybe it’s cause I keep getting waken up before my alarm has a chance to go off.” You explain, grabbing your backpack and pulling it on.

“What? You don’t like waking up early?” Abby ask, playfully already knowing the answer. Part of her loving to hear you complain.

“No.”

“Morning patrols aren’t that bad. You wake up early get off early. Have the rest of the day to do stuff.” Abby explains, trying to make you feel better.

“Yeah maybe. But I usually end up working even longer because you want to get out of here early. An eight hour shift turns into a nine or ten hour shift. One day you had me out there for twelve hours Abby.” You retort, bitterness heavy in your tone.

“You are the moodiest person in this entire base.” Abby says.

“Wasn’t before.” You speak flatly causing Abby to smile, getting closer.

“You’re such a brat.” She says, smile never leaving her mouth.

“Whatever. I know you like it.” You respond, smiling back at Abby.

“How bout we make a deal? You try to not be a brat today and I’ll try to not be such a hard ass.” Abby suggests, laughing as she squeezes your cheeks together as if you were a child.

“I don’t think I’m capable.” You speak. Abby’s hands smooshing your cheeks together. Pulling away to put one finger on your lips, shushing you.

“Just try, okay?” Abby asks, looking down at you with a pout and those damn eyes that’ll get you to do anything.

“Ughh I guess but only since you asked so nicely.” You respond suddenly hitting you that Abby is being way nicer than normal. What is her deal today?

“Really?” She grins.

“Yes let’s go.” Abby chuckles and then grabs your hand, gently nudging you forward. She’s slowly become more touchy since the two do you met but this takes it to a whole another level. When the two of you leave the room she doesn’t let go. You let the both of you walk a few feet before stopping in your tracks and looking at your hands intertwined.

“Are you holding my hand?” You question, causing Abby to realize and her face goes pink.

“Huh? Oh.. uhm.. I guess I am.” She awkwardly smiles, still not letting go.

“I mean I don’t mind. Just know you wouldn’t want to give everybody the wrong impression.” You respond, slightly traumatized from the first time you tried to sit with her in the mess hall and she went off on you about how she didn’t want anyone to think you were her friend.

“Pfft. They already think we’re in a relationship, or we will be sometime soon. What’s the harm in holding your hand?” Abby says casually, rolling her eyes as if your concern is ridiculous. She attempts to keep walking but you’re stood still, not willing to end this conversation so soon.

“They think that?” You ask.

“Yeah, they do. You should hear them gossiping during dinner. It’s all about us.” Abby says looking down at you and laughing slightly.

“How have I never heard this?” You question.

“It’s because you always head directly for you bunk room to rest after dinner. They’ll start talking about us as soon as you leave.” She explains as if this isn’t a big deal.

“What else do they say?”

“Oh. Uhm... they mainly talk about your... uh.... assets.. yeah.. that’s it.” She blushed slightly thinking about it.

“My assets? Ew.” You cringe at the thought.

“Hey I think your... ‘assets’ are fine.” She smirks, face somehow more red than before. You eyes go wide in response, it’s a rare occasion that Abby says something nice. Let alone a compliment that borders on flirting.

“Are you flirting with me?” You ask because you never know with her and you need to desperately make sense of what’s happening.

“Errr.. ummmm.. no I am not.” She nervously looks away, couldn’t help but start chuckling at her own awkwardness.

“Abby Anderson. You totally-.” You say, teasingly poking at her chest. She puts her hands over your mouth as an attempt to shush you.

“They probably think that because we work together, hang out and live together. We’re always together.” She explains trying to change the subject from her flirty comment.

“Or do they think this because you said something? Planted it in there head.” You ask, teasing as you pull Abby’s hand away from your mouth.

“Ok I may have said something. Which turned it into a whole thing.” She admits.

“Something?” You ask curiously.

“They were making some crude comments about your body. And one of them joked that I would know. I may or may not have agreed that I would know.” Abby explains, part of her embarrassments that she entertained them for even a second. In the end being grateful because them think you two were an item got them to shut up. The teasing now focused on Abby, wanting to know more about said relationship that didn’t actually exist.

“Are you mad..?” She looks at you, still holding your hand as you both walked down a long staircase to an area outside of the stadium.

“No it’s kinda cute.” You smile.

“You think it’s cute that they all think we’re in love?” She laughs.

“Yeah but just because you made them think that. No wonder Manny’s been teasing me about you.” You explain, connecting the dots as you speak.

“He’s been teasing you?”

“Yeah always telling me my *girlfriends* looking for me. Shit like that.”

“Your girlfriend?!” She grins at the thought before adding. “Well I am looking for you all the time.”

“Apparently you’re obsessed with me.” You joke, laugh leaving your mouth.

“I am. Just a little bit.” Abby responds, leading you out of the stadium and to where everyone starts patrols. Still holding your hand. As the two of you exit the stadium, you notice that Isaac is standing outside with a small group of people. He immediately takes notice of the two of you holding hands. Making a face as he looked back at the patrol, saying something inaudible to the them.

“Oooh does Abby have a girlfriend?” Manny hollers before laughing. Abby’s face is filled with so many emotions and before you can say anything Isaac’s say something.

“It’s about damn time. I was starting to think the two of you didn’t have feelings for each other after all.” He smiles.

“Can we start this patrol so I can stop be the center of attention?” Abby asks, ignoring everything everyone’s said.

“Or so you two can be alone?” Manny teases, causing everyone to laugh.

“Shut up.” Abby growls, pulling you away from everyone. You wave goodbye at everyone as Abby drags you away to start the patrol. Manny gives you two thumbs up which only adds to Abby’s irritation.

“You never answered. Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask teasing, curious about her answer.

“I don’t know. Do I?”

“You’re gonna have to ask for yourself and find out.” You tease causing Abby to groan outloud.

“You’re really gonna make me ask?” She asks, followed by rolling her eyes.

“Yeah.” You smirk, wanting the word to come out Abby’s mouth.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” She says annoyed.

“Mmm I’ll have to think about it.” You joke, watching Abby get more annoyed. “Just kidding yeah.” You laugh, finally bringing a smile to Abby’s face. Before you could register what’s happening Abby is stopped, pressing her lips into yours. You kiss back for a few moments, Abby eventually being the one to pull away.

“That was amaizng.” Abby purrs.

“Mhmm.” You smile, nodding.

“Just cause we’re dating now. Don’t think I’m gonna be any less of a hard ass.” Abby says, going back to her annoying self.

“We’ll see about that.” You tease, walking ahead of Abby. Abby grabs your wrist pulling you back to her. Abby grins kissing you again, knowing damn well she’d do whatever you asked.

[lili863]

Yes, all yours.

AN: Welp , I am finally writing for Sebastian Sallow. This was fun to write knowing how his personality is.

Warning: MDNI, SMUT, 18+, Enemies to lovers, DARK, DOM! SEB

TW: Slight Dubcon, a little blood involved (literally)

Sebastian Sallow.

The most charming boy I've met, he's witty, fun loving and just such an adorable flirty dork. In fact if I would have asked him to court me if only...he wasn't such an insufferable, arrogant, hard headed human being that I have ever had the displeasure of knowing.

He's a walking contradiction to better put it.

Just a week ago we were laughing and making our way to the library after sneaking out of detention and then in a span of 7 days I found myself firmly entrenched in his shitlist when he figured out I was communicating with a goblin in my investigation about Ranrok and Victor Rookwood.

Since then, it's been an onslaught of cocky remarks, disdainful glances, and thinly-veiled jabs. Oh, the joy of camaraderie among wizards.

I could tolerate all of it, really. After all, navigating the intricate social dynamics of Hogwarts has become something of a specialty of mine. But things took a turn for the worse when he had the audacity to label me as ignorant and then failed to extend even a semblance of an apology.

Initially, I empathized with his frustration and understood his misplaced anger. I made excuses for his behavior, attempting to rationalize his actions. But my patience wore thin faster than I anticipated.

Merlin, if I had known how stubborn he was going to be I would have given up hope of reconciliation a long time ago.

And it all started right after I had convinced myself that perhaps extending the olive branch should fall upon my shoulders.

I found him by the great hall. There he stood among a few of our friends: Natty, Garreth, Ominis, and Amit. A small smile crept onto my lips at the sight, hoping that this apology, however undeserved, would set things right. But just as I neared earshot, his words struck like a dagger.

"Can you believe her? The audacity. She parades around as if she's the font of all knowledge just because she's the apple of every professor's eye when she's barely scratched the surface of our world".

The words hit me like a ton of bricks as I stood there shocked.

"Sebastian, perhaps you're being a tad harsh," Natty interjected, her voice tinged with a hint of reproach. "She's many things, but ignorant isn't one of them."

Nods of agreement rippled through the small gathering, Ominis adding his voice with a weary sigh. "I'm inclined to agree. You're letting your temper get the best of you."

Sebastian's sneer sliced through the tension like a blade. "Of course you would agree, Ominis," he retorted, the bitterness palpable in his tone.

It dawned on me then that this matter held more significance for him than I had realized. I knew he was angry with me, but to this extent?

"Seems she's got all of you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't it?" he said, his gaze flicking between them with contempt.

"That's enough," I interjected sharply, drawing all eyes to me, including Sebastian's.

"You know, I would have taken your words more seriously if you had the guts to say them to my face," I challenged, closing the distance between us with purpose.

Sebastian turned to face me fully, his eyes zeroing in on mine. His deep frown transformed to a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Well, here I am, aren't I? Besides, your back is just as good a place as any for such heartfelt conversations, considering that's all I was faced with the last time."

I pressed my lips together, determined not to let his cutting words pierce through my resolve, though I could feel their sting like a sharp slap across the face. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed the group behind us watching with wide eyes.

Damn it. The last thing I needed was to turn this into a spectacle, but Sebastian was making it impossible to keep a level head.

"Funny, because I was about to say the same. Grow up, Sallow. I could handle you being a jerk any day, but immature as well?" I lowered my voice, drawing closer so our conversation couldn't be overheard. "We both know that everything I'm doing is for the greater good, including your sister."

That smile disappeared as quickly as it came, as a shadow crept over his features.

Slowly, deliberately, he closed the space between us, each step a calculated move. Startled at his demeanor I started backing up otherwise I was sure our bodies would've collided.

"Don't you dare pretend you're doing this for the good of everyone, especially my sister, when you're the one cozying up to a damn goblin."

Backed against the wall, I felt the weight of his presence looming over me, and it was precisely that moment I realized how much of a threat he could have been if he wasn't someone I knew.

He disregarded the stares of onlookers, his focus solely on me as if nothing else existed in the world.

I never saw this look on him. So scary. And so unforgiving.

My nostrils flared, and I clenched my jaw to tyring to ignore everyone gathering around us "But I am. And whether you like it or not, Lodgok is not the same. I understood your anger at first, truly, but enough is enough" My voice now ringing with authority I continued "Now back off".

He didn't move a muscle. I swear if looks could kill, I'd be 6 feet beneath the dirt right now.

With a glare, I pushed off the wall when his hand suddenly planted firmly against the wall besides my head, stopping me effectively.

His eyes darker then before trailed over my face and down to my lips "You know"... I shivered at the low timbre of it.

" For a so called prodigy you sure do run away a lot. Especially when your one marching in here telling me to man up".

My resolve wavered for a moment, but I steadied myself, meeting his gaze head-on. "Careful, Sallow," I warned, my voice laced with defiance. "Just because I choose my battles doesn't mean I'm afraid to fight."

Sebastian's lips curled into a menacing grin, a small scoff escaping his lips.

Amidst the murmurs of the gathering crowd, I turned my gaze towards them, trying to ignore his taunts.

"Well, while you're busy choosing your battles, you're losing the ones that matter"

Damn it, why is everyone here—suddenly, a calloused hand gripped my jaw, forcefully turning it back to face him.

"With me."

I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart pounding in my chest, eyes trailing back and forth between his.

He really did have a way of making every encounter feel like a fight for dominance and now I knew I was trapped. "Back off Sallow, now".

"No."

"I said back off"! With a hard shove I pushed him away from me, earning gasps and exclaims from the crowd gathering around us, all excited to see what was going on.

A sinister chuckle escaped his lips, his head thrown back in complete amusement, while I stood there, flushed with embarrassment. Whether it was from the fact that he barely moved an inch or from the proximity of his presence, I couldn't tell. He on the other hand reveled in the attention, knowing full well that I despised being the center of such spectacle.

But I wasn't about to let him see me falter. "You want a battle? Fine. Since you're so desperate to get on my bad side"!

A mocking nod was all he could offer at my not so threatening threat "Bad side, huh? And what does that entail?"

"Mopping the floor with your arse in the courtyard, for all to see. Perhaps then I can show you just how well being a teacher's pet pays off." I spat.

"Well, let me tell you what my bad side entails, since you're already on it."

I huffed, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips as I shifted my weight, a hand on my hip. "Do enlighten me."

As tension crackled between us, Sebastian's breaths came slow and measured, the controlled rhythm of his chest betraying the intensity of his emotions as he stood before me.

"When I emerge victorious from this duel," he whispered, his voice dripping with controlled menace, "You won't forget it. I'll ensure it. And it won't just end there. I'll make your life a living hell, and believe me, darling, it won't be a pleasant experience."

My heart dropped, and my hands fell to my sides as I looked up at him in shock. "Sebastian..."

Maybe it was just my imagination, but a flicker of something passed by his face. His gaze softened, but his face remained expressionless.

"Do you really think you can just come into my life and pretend to care about everything? To care about my sister and then just dump it back in my face, as if all the things we went through together meant nothing?"

I shook my head, my eyes wide as saucers, but before the words could come out of my mouth, he beat me to it. "You'll regret it." Cedarwood and pine filled my senses as he stepped closer. "I'll make sure of it."

Speechless. That was what I was. Turning back around, he faced our group of friends, all of whom were confused, and started walking back towards them.

"Tomorrow after classes, tell Lucas I'll be there at 5," he said. He really was going to duel me.

"Oh, and..." He turned back around, and the smirk on his face irked me. "Bring plenty of Wiggenwald, darling." My stomach churned, and I felt nauseous. I wasn't afraid to duel him, but now, I am not so sure. This was a much bigger deal to him then I thought it would be. And considering this involved his sister... maybe I underestimated the weight of it all.

And that smile on his face... the normalcy after that terrifying expression... it was as unsettling as it was unexpected. And I was going to have to face the full wrath of it tomorrow...

______________________

"Bombarda"!

Sparks flew as spells clashed in midair, casting dazzling lights and shadows across the courtyard. I dodged and weaved, my movements being fluid and controlled, but his relentless barrage of spells were uncannily precise.

There he stood, a calm look to his face as his spells were coming faster and more ferocious with each passing moment.

It's come to my attention as soon as this duel started that I might be royally screwed. Along with the insomnia I had suffered last night and eating next to nothing in the last 36 hours I was in a bad shape.

But what really threw me off was that he had dramatically improved from the last time I dueled him.

In fact he was arguably one of the best duelers in this school at the moment. I am, ashamed to say, it was more challenging with him then anyone I've encountered in my missions, including the trials.

Though in my trials I was fighting knights, not a actual human being so, I cant just use my ancient magic to spear a lighting through his head.

With gritted teeth, I unleashed a wave of fiery infernos, the flames dancing and twisting towards Sebastian with menacing intent. The crowd Oohs and aahs only got louder and more excited at my display of magic.

Too bad it only lasted about 3 seocnds before he countered with a powerful Shield Charm, the flames dissipating against the barrier with a hiss.

A surge of panic washed over me as he unleashed a dark hex, the ancient magic stirring within me in response. With a desperate effort, I summoned a powerful shield to deflect the attack.

As the spell collided with my shield, I felt the impact reverberate through my entire being, threatening to shatter my resolve. I staggered, barely managing to stay on my feet, disbelief etched into every line of my face.

Sebastian stood there, his lips slightly curling at my reaction.

He knew.

That would have been impossible to counter if it hadn't been for my ancient magic.

I heaved for breath, my chest tight with apprehension as I watched the young slytherin, seeing the powerful dark aura radiate off of him like smoke.

Shit...

He just flung a dark hex at me as if the very notion of it being forbidden never crossed his mind.

He stepped close enough for me to hear him say "Did you ever learn that while being a teacher pet"?

I growled, gripping my wand tight. I did not go through trials involving deadly knights, goblins and trolls to lose to an egotisical boy.

"Is this really how you wanna play Sallow"? I sneered.

Sebastian predatory eyes swept over me as I ignored the tightening feeling in my stomach. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips in anticipation.

"You know exactly how I play fifth year". He purred.

With a swift incantation, I conjured a dazzling array of illusions, each one more intricate than the last.

To my utter joy Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise as he struggled to discern the real me from the phantoms that surrounded him.

But he was quick to recover, his own spells flying fast and furious as he sought to break through my defenses. Bolts of lightning crackled through the air, sending shockwaves rippling across the courtyard as our magic clashed in a spectacular display of power.

The crowd's cheers and gasps melded into a deafening cacophony, but amidst the chaos, I could only focus on the piercing ringing in my ears. I gritted my teeth, my eyes narrowing as I prepared to unleash my most powerful spell yet. With a flick of my wand and a whispered incantation, I summoned a whirlwind of energy that engulfed Sebastian and everyone else in a blinding vortex of light.

Everyone gasped covering their eyes and as the brilliance faded, I braced myself for the next onslaught, but nothing could have prepared me for what came next

Suddenly I yelp, feeling the tip of a cold wand pressed to my neck and a warm yet menacing presence press against my back.

To my utter horror, Sebastian stood behind me out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around my waist, keeping me perfectly still.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, unleashing a wave of blood to my core. It's almost laughable, the way fear grips me now, rendering me hesitant to face him. I just know what hes going to look like, and I am not sure I could take it.

I try to cast something as his lips brush against my ear, and he whispers "Expelliarmus".

My wand flies out of my hand instantly, bouncing on the ground before rolling away as the crowd watched in stunned silence.

Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead as I watched my wand disappear into the distance. And then it hits me.

Fuck.

How could I forget.

I taught him how to apparate last week...

_____________________

"Sebastian, please," I pleaded, struggling to keep pace with his brisk stride. Every two steps felt like a hurdle, but his iron grip on my arm prevented me from face-planting afterward.

"You've won, alright," I conceded, feeling defeated.

With a forceful tug, he yanked me forward and pressed me against the wall, eliciting a grunt from me.

"And yet, you're still defending a goblin," venom dripped from his words, saturating the air with its malevolence.

I hadn't known he was capable of such intense hatred. Part of it, I suspected, had something to do with his dalliance in the dark arts.

Melting into the wall did nothing as Sebastian stepped in to close the distance.

"He's provided more information than any other creature I've encountered, Sebastian. He's the reason I can move forward in this investigation." I pleaded.

"Yeah, and how do you know it's not all a lie?" he retorted sharply.

"You're acting as if no one else, or any other creature, hasn't lied to me before. How is it any different if a goblin does?" I shot back, trying to maintain my composure.

"You know why!" he exploded, pushing against me, his frustration palpable.

Ragged breaths escaped me as I struggled to remain steady. His hard abdomen was smashed against mine with no disregard for personal space. I was caged.

"I understand your anger, Seb. But only to an extent. Not all goblins are bad, just like not all humans are good. Victor Rookwood is scum, yet there are trusted relationships with all kinds of creatures and humans."

With a scoff like laugh, his fingers began to trace its way down my cheek, "You're adorable, living in your little fantasy world. But reality is much harsher than your dreams."

I let out frustrated grunt but before I could respond I felt his wand press against the side of the my lower thigh. "Goodness know mine is hell, your precious goblins saw to that when they decided my sister should be 'seen and not heard'"

With a hitched breath I felt him raise his wand, sliding the smooth wood closer and closer to core.

Oh.my.goodness.

It was like my brain shut down as I realized what was happening.

I squeezed my eyes trying to concentrate on the conversation, a very important conversation.

"I am sorry Sebastian. I-I really am, I am most definitely not defending all goblins here, especially the ones who cursed Anne-"

"Oh yes you are. You even fought me for it". A cruel grin spread across his lips.

I started to step on my tippy toes instinctively to avoid the thin wood making it way under my skirt.

"You'll never understand will you"? His unsettling voice rattled me and thats when a tinge of fear seeped into my brain. This was not the Sebastian I knew.

"Seb..." My voice tremebled.

The tip of his wand disappeared under my skirt until I jumped with gasp when the tip pressed firmly on my core.

"You betrayed me".

I gasped, arching back, my hands shooting straight for his in an attempt to stop him as he began to move the wand up my clothed slit.

"I-I didn't-"

Through quick glances, I could see him observing my reactions without a hint of shame. I squeezed my eyes shut, whimpering at the sensation as the tip of his wand halted atop my clit before he started twirling it.

Despite my tightening grip on his hand, he remained unmoved. All I could do was throw my head back with a cry, feeling a tight knot forming in my stomach

"Seb s-stop" I whimpered.

"Are you sure you want me too"? His cocky tone showed now remorse as he watched me fall apart.

"Tell me the truth," his lips pressed on my to my cheek. "You wanted this from the day you met me didn't you"?

"W-what? NO-"

"Thats why you did what you did. Because pissing me off was the only way to get my attention" He chuckled. But it was hardly humorous.

I wanted to slap him, but my legs were shaking, my own wetness beginning to drip down my thighs.

His wand dropped instantly, rolling away from us. Panting, I thought maybe this was the end of it until his hand dove beneath my skirt, forcibly making its way down my underwear.

Gasping, I clutched his collar for dear life, feeling his calloused hand slide across my slit, rubbing my soaking cunt. As if my dignity wasn't hanging by a thread, my hips started to roll on their own, meeting his fingers.

"Ahhgh-Seb"!

Thats when his other hand swung around to grab to my ass and squeezed a handful of it. Hard. "Look at this"

I faced him finally. A smug grin draped over his face.

"You act all righteous but in the back of your mind all you wanted was a good fuck"

Suddenly, all sensations within my body halted. Without a second thought, my hand connected with his cheek, the sound of a slap reverberating through the dark hall.

His cheek swung the other way as he backed off slightly. I stood there, breathing hard, eyes wide, and clenching my thighs. If he thought I would just stand there and endure his vulgarity, he had another thing coming.

A small bruise formed at the corner of his lip, where a hint of blood emerged. However, what made me tense up, gripping the wall behind me, was his gaze slowly returning to mine—dark and hungry—as his tongue darted out to lick his lips over the bruise with a smirk

Clenching my jaw, I gritted, "You're a bastard."

Then I see the glint in his eyes

He charges towards me, "Well, if I'm a bastard, then you're my slut."

His lips crashed onto mine, pinning me against the wall. I groaned, attempting to navigate the kiss, but I couldn't keep up. His lips switched angles every few seconds, exploring every inch of me in a frenzy. His chest pressed against mine, his hands diving under my thighs, pushing me further into the wall as he devoured me.

I couldn't push him away, even if my life depended on it—which now it definitely did as I struggled to breathe. With no choice, I pulled my head back, opening my mouth to breathe, but he shoved his tongue in.

I whimpered breathing him in as forcifully as he made me. It was dizzying it, if he didn;t keep me upright I was sure I was going to fall from lack of oxygen. His finger went back to my gushing core as he slipped a finger in, pumping it rapidly. I pulled back gripping his jaw with a moan, barely able to stand right as he finger me harshly

Sebastian lips moved down to my neck pressing searing kisses "Your so wet baby" He murmered against my skin.

Then he brought his head up, pupil exploded with lust. I was sure I looked the same too hazy from the pleasure he giving me.

"Give me a taste huh"?

Nothing was registering in my mind. "Wha-"

Before I could finish, he finger, drove out of me with an audible pop before he yanked my panties down.

He fell to his knees, and without hesitation, his head disappeared under my skirt. Then the most startling sound escaped my mouth as I felt his warm tongue envelop my cunt, sucking and licking with desperation. No teasing, no foreplay, just an explosion of sensation.

My hand tangled into his hair as I cried out, hunching over as if he was sucking my energy. It didn't take him more than a second to find my clit as his tongue circled the hardened nub.

His other finger found my cunt, ramming in two fingers this time. The dark hall was filled with slopping sounds and loud squelches; if that didn't send a message to any poor classmate who happened to walk by, then my screams probably did.

Finally, with two more harsh thrusts, I became undone, crashing my weight onto his shoulders, my world spinning. My cries were silent with how intensely the orgasm hit me. Sebastian knew it too when his head popped out from under my skirt, licking the remaining juices off his lips. He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, his smile, anything but friendly

No. I could tell he wasn't done.

My legs finally gave out as I kneeled before him. "Hang on, darling, I'm not through with you," he teased, his tone doing nothing to prepare me as he grabbed my waist and pushed me onto the ground, dirt be damned.

Oh fuck.

I realized I was going to be taken right here, in the middle of this damn hall, and no one was going to stop him. I knew I couldn't. Because hell, I needed him too. He nudged in between my legs, spreading them wide enough for him to see everything.

"You're so fucking pretty," he breathed heavily, his mouth still glistening from earlier. I went completely red.

No, not here. If someone walks in, I'd sooner get eaten by an Acromantula

"Stop, Sebastian! What if-"

A sharp slap to my thigh silenced me instantly before he loomed over me. "You don't want me to stop," he accused, slipping his hands beneath my shirt.

A sob-like cry escaped me as his other hand smoothed over the red mark on my thigh. I hated how good it felt, but what I hated more was that he knew

One last lie. Maybe he'll believe me and I can end this fever dream and not have to deal with the consequences after.

"I do".

Sebastian looked at me, studying my face scrutizing every aspect I tried to keep indifferent when he grins.

"Your cunt certainly doesnt". And he makes a point to show me by smashing his lips on top of mine as I taste myself.

Why is that I am always out of breath whens he kissing me? I breath him in hard.

Everything about him is overwhelming.

As pulls away with my bottom lips between his teeth. He unbuckles his trousers and I dare to look down...

"Sebastian".

His hand immediately grips my jaw bring it up to face him.

"It'll fit. Ill make it fit".

I shake my head, another excuse brewing in my head when he pauses what hes doing and rips open my shirt button flying everywhere.

A shaky sound leaves him he gazes at my breasts "Is that for me".

He was talking about the lacy bra I decided to wear today, and I realized, that today of all day I decided to wear it, because of him.

I gulped "No.."

He smirked, pulling the bra down. "Liar. Keep it up though; I love catching you and seeing the blush all over your face," he said, aligning himself over my entrance and pushing his blunt head in.

I flinched, grabbing his neck and pulling him down. "The least you can do is distract me from the pain..." He smiled, moving a strand of hair out of my face. "I don't think so; perhaps you're forgetting this is punishment," he said, his long, nimble fingers wrapping around the nape of my neck, keeping my head in place.

"Let me see those tears, baby, and don't you dare move your face"

I squeezed his shoulders, a pleading look on my face "Your being cruel".

"Only cause you made me" With that he pushed his length is as I gasp, a strangled noise leaving my throat.

Before I could adjust, he began thrusting into me. The room filled with the sound of his hips slapping against mine. I bounced on the cold stone floor, my breasts moving in tandem. He seized one in his mouth, and I cried out, closing my eyes tightly, feeling utterly helpless in his grasp.

Both of his hands gripped under my thighs and stretched my legs nearly to my stomach as he rammed into me at full speed. My screams and half-moans likely echoed throughout the castle as I flailed on the ground, arching my back, nails scraping against the floor, sweat slickening my skin.

Sebastian groaned as he observed one of my hands reaching for my breast and teasing my hardened nipples

Any pain I felt at the beginning was replaced by sweet utter bliss, it was powerful, and so blinding.

His length reached inside me and pulled out sqelching each time, as if there was a pull stopping him backing all the way out.

He grunted before proceeding to grab my wrists and pin them above my head, putting most of his wright atop of me.

Leaving hot wet kiss all over my neck, he faced me watching my tear stricken face, "Do you want to make this up to me".

I hear those words and immediately nod my head, knowing he would never accpet lodgok no matter what.

"Then promise me your mine. Promise me from now on you'll come to me whenever I summon you whether its the restricted section or in the middle of the damn dark forest. You'll come and do whatever I ask whether thats spreading your leg for me or giving me a taste of that sweet cunt of yours".

I gushed, my eyes nearly rolling at the back of my head with the speed he was going.

"Se-Seb" I whined. "I am-gonna c-cum"

"Promise me sweetheart. Or we stop this. Now".

I am no fool. I knew he what he was asking of me nothing short of being slave to all his desires. But he would never call me his girlfirend. No.

Thats my punishment.

"Seb, I- thats too much"

He clicked in tonghe, an annoyance washing over his features.

"Unless you perfer me to tell other professors what youve been up to. You know, sneaking out in the middle of the night, slaying goblins and ashwinders..."

The cruel grin made it way to his face when my eyes snapped up at him.

"Tell me" He leaned in pressing a soft kiss to my lips and everything I hated about him melted. "Tell me your mine" He murmed against my lips.

As if he knew extactly what to do to get wheat he wanted, his finger dove down to my clit, pressing the nub and rubbing it harshly.

I screamed arching my back as it all hit me. The blinding white pleasure that had me see stars. He wrapped my legs around his waist holding me tight, watching me and convulse against him in pure bliss. As it came over me in waves, I fianlly open my eyes to stare up at his. I cant believe I am saying this.

"Yes.."

His forehead leaned on top of mine a knowing smile on his lips.

"I am all yours..."

[td-scenarios]

Request: Confessional about s/o for Cody, Scott, Justin, Heather, and Lindsey? Have a great day!

(I hope u dont mind if it's pre-relationship! u didn't clarify, but i thought them talking abt their crush on reader would be cute :] )

__________________________________________

Scott

He looks slightly disturbed being here. A shifty look in his eye, almost as if he was nervous to look directly at the camera. Every time Scott had been in to make a confessional up until this point was to explain whatever he had been planning for the competition, so this was unsettling for him to say the least.

"So, Y/N, am I right?" He started before the camera fizzed out and came back to him in a different position. "Nevermind this is stupid."

It would take a while until Scott would brave the confessional again. This time, he was gripping his head like a madman. Slowly, his head tilted up until he was holding onto his face with his eyes framed by his fingers.

"I can't take it anymore. They're perfect! My schemes can't touch 'em!" His hands had left his face and he was gesturing wildly. "I don't think I even WANT my schemes to affect them. Woah. I never thought I'd say that."

Scott blinked dumbly at the camera before a scowl took over his expression.

"Y/N I'm comin' for ya."

-

Lindsay

"Oh my gosh!" Lindsay twirled a strand of her hair around her finger as she stared off into the distance past the camera. "Do you guys think that Y/N likes me? 'Cause I toooootally like them. Like, I like-like them." A dreamy smile plastered on her face as she kept talking. "I hope they like me back. Like who wouldn't?"

She thought about what she said for a second, her expression a bit grave as it finally focused on the camera.

"People like me, right? Yeah, they do. That means Y/N has to like me." A pause. "Ooooooh, but what if they don't?" Lindsay tapped her chin in thought at the idea. "Whatever! They're really cute and like smart and amazing!" The blonde finally stopped talking and just sat there with her head resting on her hands as she let out a wistful sigh. This pause continued for about a minute before she finally perked up and tilted her head at the camera.

"Wait, is this still going?"

-

Justin

The model tapped his finger on the vanity as he was thinking about what he should say. He finally looked up and fixed his hair in the mirror as he started talking.

"I never thought I'd meet anyone as gorgeous as me. And I haven't. But Y/N comes pretty close and that's dangerous. They're stunning and their wit is unmatched." His lips puckered in defeat since his hair wasn't falling the way he wanted to. Ultimately, he gave up on it as he kept talking.

"Maybe I should go for an alliance with them. The thought of getting Y/N voted off just...doesn't sit right with me. But I also can't have this sort of competition."

Justin sat there with a frown, not really knowing what his plans would become at this stage. He sighed before he shot a smirk back up at the camera.

"I need to stop with all this thinking, it's making me ugly."

-

Heather

"They're insufferable!" Heather growled, folding her arms across her body while glaring off to the side. "All they do is be stupidly kind and have a dumb face and...and...and well they piss me off!"

"I need Y/N out of this game. Pronto! If I am to keep my game face on then Y/N has to go. They're totally messing everything up!"

Heather huffed and continued stewing in her anger. Eventually, she kept sputtering on some anger fueled words before letting out a frustrated groan.

"I can't believe this is happening..." She grumbled, scrunching in on herself more.

Before the camera fizzed out, a slight smile was seen on Heather's face as she let out a dreamy sigh.

-

Cody

"Wow. Y/N..." Cody sat there, staring at the camera with the most overjoyed look on his face. "They're probably the first person I've ever found attractive that is actually giving me the time of day! This is great!!"

Cody silently cheered, raising his arms in the air with a big smile on his face. Once his tiny little self-contained celebration was over he finally began speaking once more.

"I really really hope they like me back. Wouldn't that be awesome?" He got a bit closer to the camera, a smile on his face.

"I mean, they don't push me away, they're not mean to me, and they actually laugh at my jokes! I think that the Codemeister has finally done it." His ecstatic boy-ish demeanor quickly replaced with a more smug one.

"Or, at least, I hope so."

[femoso-seben]

Immortal Shenanigans

Chapter 2: Bullets and Pots

pt.1 pt.2, pt. 3

You stare at them. And they stared at you. You grow and twist your arms until the rope becomes loose. You really had to remove the bullet from your head. You violently dislocated your shoulder and pulled your left hand free.

You throw your head forward dislodging the bullet in your head. You reach into the hole pull out the bullet and drop it onto the ground. You rotate your neck before freeing your other arm.

“You know it’s impolite to shoot someone from that distance.” You hum as the hole in your head begins to close. “Next time shoot me up close, so the bullet doesn’t get stuck.”

You reach down untie your feet, stand up, and walk toward the group. “What with those expressions? It seems like you're seeing a zombie—“

Bang!

Another bullet hits you point blank in the face. You fall backward as they lay more bullets into your body. They quietly stare at each other before leaving, your eyes open and you stand up in the empty… where were you?

It didn’t matter you picked up your bag and left. As you leave the large room you hear a low voice talking. We’re they still here? Might as well scare the shit out of them.

“Hey,” you round the corner as a bullet hits you in the heart. You stare down at the hole in your chest. “That’s not very nice.” You look up shaking your head.

“How the fuck are you still alive?”

“I’m immortal.”

“We killed you.”

“You tried.”

They stared at you with horror in their eye. You were still alive. I looked down at their map, they were planning something.

“Mmh, colonizing shit, you make your ancestors proud.” You look up at the British military men. They give you a cold look.

Ghost raises his gun, “Don’t waste your bullets on me.” You say not looking at him. “We both know it won’t work.” He slowly lowers his gun and looks down at you.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m Egyptian…. I’m from Egypt. This is my home territory.” You’d rate the obvious.

“How old are you?” Soap folds his arm curious about the answer.

“About 5,000 years old.” You casually stare looking down at your ruined clothes. “I was born a little after Egypt was unified. So about 5,000 years old.” You looked him in the face.

“How are you still alive?”

“I don’t know.”

“How don’t you know?”

“We didn’t have science back then!” I shout at Soap.

“I’m older than your Goddamn country, show me some respect!”

“You act like a bratty child.” Ghost hums looking at you with annoyance.

“I am still 20, there’s a dichotomy, between my age and my mental age. I’ve been through a lot and processed it like a 20-year-old.” You explain. The mustache man nods somewhat understanding.

“You do act your age.”

“What you guys doing?” You stand on your tippy toes trying to catch a glimpse of what they're doing. They move to block your view.

“This is private information.”

“Geez ok,” you put your hands up, “it’s not like I’m gonna retain that information. It’s not important to me.”

“Why do you wanna know then?”

“Because I’m nosy,” you shrug. In this decade you decided to be the most immature person ever, to truly act your mental age. A little dumb and completely insufferable.

“Anyways I need to head back… I’m thinking the lady I’m staying with is looking for me.” You begin to walk off, humming a tune so old it was ingrained in your very soul.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“Back to my Airbnb,” you turn around spreading your arms to the mustache man. “Don’t worry I won’t mention you, all four of you aren’t worthy to be remembered.” You give them a bow and Waltz out.

You have rented the Airbnb for a month. you open the door and set your bag down. If the police are looking for you, you're going to have to call in and clear up the misinformation. You take a shower and change to less damaged bloody clothes.

“Hey is this the police?… this is yn… I wasn’t missing just went on a spiritual journey without my phone… sorry for the inconvenience… of course, I’ll tell someone next time.” You hung up, bored and slightly numb.

You should call in that temple site, and get your pots in a museum; not the British Museum, but a local one. You found the right phone number of an old colleague.

“Hey is mister Renfield there? Yes, this is Sofia, Mary’s daughter. Me and my mother stumble across a hidden temple.” News travels fast and you soon we’re back in your temple this time willingly and unstuck.

“Sofia,” you look up.

“Look at these pots, they are your specialty,” Benjamin said. He was an archeologist from America helping with the dig.

“These are in great condition,” you hum, of course, they are. Nobody touched them but you. “These artifacts might tell us more about this temple.”

“This site gonna be a new tourist attraction.” You smile but deep inside you hate the idea of random people ruining your sacred temple.

You walk the street at night. You didn’t need sleep, you didn’t need food, you didn’t need water. But you like those things, they make you feel more mortal more human. You found it ironic you wanted to be human again when for many years you’ve seen yourself as a god amongst men.

“These pots look expensive.” You froze and looked to your right.

“We can sell this to the British Museum.”

Hell no!

You begin to walk down the alleyway, those pots— must have come from your site. Those were your pots, nobody else but yours. You found three men packing them into boxes.

“What do you think you're doing with my pots?” You coldly asked in Arabic. They turn to you like deer in headlights. One pulls out a gun and threatens to shoot. You stare at them coldly arms folded.

“Back off bitch!”

“Why?” You walk closer and they frown. They turn to each other and begin to speak another language.

You could understand them. They were talking about your looks. They could sell you. Or harvest your organs. You frown if they discover your immortality they keep you as a slave.

“Human trafficking?” They froze and turned to you horrified. You knew the second language too. You pull out your tactical whip and hit the one with the gun. You took the gun and turned it on them.

“Take me to your hideout.” You demand. You will take all the artifacts they have stolen back. They slowly took you to an abandoned warehouse at the end of the city. They tried to take the gun back but your whip took good care of their attempts.

It hurt like hell and it culled their attempts to fight you. You knocked out both men, with one hard punch and tied them up with the rope you carried in your bag. You enter the abandoned warehouse. It was mostly empty, besides the shit tone of guns, but you didn’t care for that.

“Damn, what is this? An incels’ wet dream?” You mutter staring at the boxes of guns.

You walk around taking in all the stuff. Most of it was military, not your problem. You found your artifacts all in a single box with little care put into it. You deer in frustration. You pull out your phone to call in the stolen items and the military-grade gun.

“Hello, police?”

“Price over here.” Your voice does as you slowly lookout to find those four military men. You end the call and stand up.

“Hey.”

Bang!

“Hey, these pots are old!” You yell back trying to protect the box.

“What are you doing here,” mustache man roars in anger.

“Stolen museum pots!”

“How can we trust you?” They all had their guns pointed at you. You roll your eyes.

“I’m an archeologist first, a historian second, and a bitch lastly. I don’t give a shit about your damn mission only these pots!” They turn to each other. Was she for real? They look at you. Yes, she is.

“Alright you're here for pots, how did you get here.”

“Two looters try to steal my temple pot.”

“How did you take out two men?”

“Tactical whip,” you hold up your metallic whip. Soap sighed and the mustache man simply covered his eyes.

“Does it work?”

“Very well.”

“I’m going to call the police—“

“No, we’re going to call the military.” Mustache man interrupted you. You sigh and stretch your arms.

“Alright, when they get here just tell them that box is historically important.” You pick up your stuff and begin to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“You guys got this handle, and I still need to report another problem.” You wave your hand.

“Let’s not meet up again.” You state as you leave the warehouse.

You called in the temple pot theft and your colleagues explained the frustrating situation. Looters are the first enemy of knowledge and history.

Bang!

You fall forward and your world turns black.

[atimeofyourlife]

@steddie-week Day 6 misunderstanding

Steve was making the most of the evening with Eddie, as he would be away in Chicago for a week with family obligations.

"So, I'm driving up tomorrow, the day after is some big family dinner thing, the day after that is the wedding. And god, I am not looking forward to it. Weddings in my family are just about showing off, it's black tie, so I know I'm just going to be uncomfortable the whole time. Maybe I should be thankful that my aunt was able to talk her down from white tie, a different cousin on the other side had a white tie wedding two years ago and honestly, it was one of the worst things I had to wear in my entire life." Steve rambled as he leaned against Eddie's shoulder.

"What the fuck is white tie?" Eddie replied.

"Even fancier than black tie. Black tie I have to wear a tuxedo. White tie includes a fucking tailcoat, and my mom basically forced me into a top hat. It's ridiculous and over the top, which is why my family loves it. If we are ever able to get married, I want it to be nothing fancier than semi-formal."

"You would marry me?" Eddie asked quietly.

"In a heartbeat." Steve pressed a kiss to Eddie's cheek, before continuing. "I'll be wanting to ditch as soon as possible, so I will be driving myself no matter how much my parents protest, but I know they will kill me if I ditch too early. Then there's two days where I've got nothing, other than recovering from however much I drink at the wedding. Then it's my Nonna's birthday, so I've got to stick around for that. And then the day after that, I'm coming home. While I'm there, I'll probably spend most of my time with Danni."

"And who's Danni?"

"My favorite cousin. The only person in my family that isn't insufferable and stuck up."

-

The week away went mostly as Steve had predicted. He got constantly reminded by his parents how much of a disappointment he was. Constant questions from other family members about college, or what he wanted to do as a career, when he was going to join his father's company. If he had a girlfriend. When he was going to get married. It was draining.

But Danni was the shining light. He spent every spare minute with her. Ditching the wedding a little early, and ending up in a McDonalds in their formalwear, with her wearing his tuxedo jacket over her dress. Spending as much time as possible out in Chicago together on the days they had nothing to do. Talking and sharing stories, and gaining a deeper understanding of each other when talking about their partners, Steve mentioning Eddie, Danni bringing up her Laura.

Danni had more time to spare than Steve, so decided to join him in returning to Hawkins, to meet the friends he'd spoken so much about, especially Eddie.

-

After getting home, it all seemed to go downhill for Steve. As soon as he got in, he called Eddie, like he had promised to. But Eddie was unusually cold and dismissive on the phone, as if he didn't want to talk.

"Yeah, ok. I've got to go." Eddie hung up, and the call had barely lasted a minute. Steve felt worried, as Eddie was usually much more interested in talking to him, at any chance they got.

He called Robin next, and that didn't put his mind at ease. After a brief catch up, he brought up Eddie. She mentioned he'd been fine until a couple of days before, then had started to become a little distant, without telling anyone why.

"Maybe head over there after work tomorrow, if you've not heard from him. He's probably just throwing a hissy fit because you were away for a week without speaking to him and he thrives on attention." Robin said as the call came to an end.

"Yeah, maybe. Thanks, Rob."

Steve tried to make the most of the evening, hanging out with Danni. He felt a little bad that he would be leaving her alone for most of the next day.

"Dude, I'll just take advantage of your pool. I knew you have work, if I wasn't cool with hanging out by myself, I wouldn't have come with you." She assured him.

-

By the end of the next day, Steve felt more worried. He'd tried calling Eddie a number of times, but the calls were never answered. He drove over after he'd finished work, Eddie's van was missing from the spot next to Wayne's truck. He still went to the door, hoping Wayne could put his mind at ease.

"He's out with Gareth and Grant. He's fine, and whatever's bugging him, he'll get over it soon."

"Oh. Thanks, Wayne. Could you let him know I came over, and ask him to call me?"

-

Steve tried to put it out of his mind, taking Danni out to breakfast the next morning before hanging out with Robin.

As they walked into the diner, he noticed a very familiar back in the corner. He felt lost, conflicted. Unsure if he should ignore it, or confront him.

"I'm just going to the bathroom before we order." Danni said to him before they reached a table.

"I. I'm gonna be over-" Steve gestured vaguely to where Eddie was sat.

"Is that-" Steve nodded before she could finish the question. "If you need me to, I can kick his ass."

Steve nodded, before making his way over to Eddie, feeling a little nervous. The what if. He had never been good at seeing the end of a relationship, or knowing where he'd gone wrong.

"Eddie?" He said hesitantly.

Eddie looked up, and his face was unreadable. His friend's expressions varied from disgust to glee.

"Harrington, you here to confess? Tell us all about what you've been up to?" Grant asked, looking him upside down.

"What?" Steve was confused, unsure about what was going on.

"Oh, I said he would play dumb. How could he think he did anything wrong?" Gareth mocked. "We know what you've been doing."

"Seriously, what the hell are you talking about? Eddie, can we talk?" Steve asked, feeling desperate and wanting to get it over with.

"Go ahead, Harrington. We're waiting for your excuses." Jeff added.

"Can we talk outside, alone?" Steve pushed, not wanting to have to deal with Eddie's friends' comments. He knew they didn't like him, and would put the wrong ideas into Eddie's head.

There seemed to be a moment of silent conversation between them before Eddie got up. "I'll tell you guys how pathetic his excuses are."

Steve clenched his jaw, unsure of what Eddie thought he'd done wrong.

"Ok, what the hell, Eddie?" Steve demanded once they were outside.

"That's exactly what I want to know, Steve. Try telling the truth about what you were really doing this week." Eddie sneered.

"I told you what I was doing. Family wedding in Chicago and hanging out with family until my Nonna's birthday. That is exactly what happened. I mean I know I didn't call as much as I would have liked, but I was busy." Steve replied.

"But who were you busy with, huh? Because Gareth was in Chicago for a college tour and he told me everything. How he saw you out, repeatedly, and all over the same girl. Her wearing your tux jacket in a Mcdonald's late at night, looking all cosy over the table. Then seeing you out in Downtown Chicago. Holding hands, hugging, you lifting her up as you were laughing together. Then you show up here with the same slut." Eddie leant into Steve's face, spitting the final words out.

Steve was stunned for a second, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Don't fucking call her that." He burst out. He was aware of the door opening and closing nearby, but didn't pay attention to who it was that came out.

"What should I call her then? Homewrecker? Sidepiece? Whore?" Eddie drew out each word.

"She's my fucking cousin. You know, the favorite cousin I told you about that I was planning to spend all my time with. The one person in my family that isn't insufferable." Steve was fighting against his emotions.

"You said his name was Danny." Eddie accused.

"Yeah. Danni. As in short for Daniella. She's basically my best friend, and there is nothing I do with her that I don't do with Robin. Or are you going to start accusing me of cheating with Robin?"

"Well, I know Robin, and she's a lesbian anyway, so I know I don't have to worry about her." Eddie dismissed what he'd said.

"But you really think I would cheat on you?" Steve couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice, and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hold back the tears.

"Steve?" Danni's voice cut through the tension as she moved to Steve's side.

"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked softly.

"Everything after this asshole calling me a homewrecker," Danni replied, venom clear in her voice. "Let's do first things first. Even if we weren't related, Steve wouldn't be anywhere in the realm of someone I'd be interested in. Because he's a man. I've got a girlfriend in New York that I'm very happy with. So I'm not happy with that accusation of me being the other woman."

"I didn't-" Eddie started to backtrack on what he'd said.

"You know, Steve had really talked up his boyfriend. Telling me how amazing this guy was. But, it seems like his taste in men is as bad as his taste in women, at least with how they treat him. Because it's real interesting that you accuse him of cheating when he has told you about his parents, about how his mother has to follow his father around on business trips to curb his affairs. When his only other serious relationship involved him getting cheated on after they'd been together for a year."

"Steve, I'm sorry, I just-" Eddie trailed off, unsure on what he was going to say, how to dig himself out of this hole.

"I can't believe you didn't just ask me. You know your friends don't like me. That they could twist things to put me in a bad light. When I called you to say I was home, you could have said that Gareth had seen us out and asked me about it. I would have told you and invited you over to meet her. But you had to assume." Steve winced as his voice cracked.

"Stevie, I can make it up to you. Let me-" Eddie hurried over his words, and stepped forward to try to comfort him.

"I think you've done enough." Danni moved so she was between them.

"You can go back in there and tell them just how pathetic I was." Steve walked away, with Danni right behind him, heading for his car without letting Eddie respond.

-

They'd picked up Robin before heading back to Steve's house.

"I can't believe that he'd just accept from Gareth that you were cheating on him. Without even talking to you about it. He could have asked me or something." Robin rambled from where she was curled up against Steve's side. "I feel like going down there and tearing him a new asshole for that. He knows how much cheating fucks you up."

"I'm with you on the tearing him a new asshole thing. Maybe we should steal Steve's keys and head over to his, I'll drive, you can direct." Danni replied.

"Can you guys leave it? At least now I know what he thinks of me. That he doesn't trust me around girls that he doesn't know. That he trusts his friends words more than he trusts me." Steve sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I love him so much, but he obviously doesn't feel the same, or he doubts how I really feel about him."

It was a few hours later when there was a banging at the door. Steve moved to get up, but Robin beat him to the door.

"Munson." Robin's tone was cold, closed off.

"Robin, I. Is Steve here? I need to talk to him. I know I fucked up." Eddie pleaded.

"Damn right he fucked up." Danni shouted from the kitchen.

"I just need to apologize to him. I feel like shit for this. It was a total misunderstanding, and it's all on me."

"Apologize? You need to fucking grovel. You accused him of cheating on you, when you know that cheating is one of his biggest insecurities. Based on what? The word of a guy that has never liked Steve. A guy that has repeatedly tried to convince you to break up with Steve. Why the hell would you believe anything he said about Steve?" Robin's voice got louder, agitation evident.

"I know. I just got caught up because Steve wasn't here and I guess I just wanted someone to blame. I need to make this right?"

"Make it right for what? So next time you hear about him hanging out with someone you don't know you can accuse him of cheating on you again?"

"Rob, it's ok. Let me speak to him." Steve came to the door, knowing he looked a mess.

"Stevie. I am so fucking sorry. I know I fucked up by listening to Gareth, I shouldn't have let him get into my head like that. I'll do anything to make it up to you. I know you wouldn't cheat, I know you're not like that. And I love you. I've never loved anyone like this, and I don't want to lose you over this. Please, give me a chance to fix this?" Eddie begged.

"I know you're sorry, but I can't forgive you. Not yet. You hurt me so much by ignoring me and assuming I had cheated on you. I was open and honest about what I was doing and who I was going to be with. And you chose to listen to Gareth. I need time to know that you'll come to me when you hear something and not just blindly take your friends side. I can't be just waiting to see if you're going to hurt me again. And I'm not the only one you need to apologize to. What you said about Danni was unacceptable. What if someone said that about Robin or one of the kids?" Steve's voice was a little rough with the emotion of the day.

"It would have been fucked up. I was wrong, I know that. I assumed something about someone I didn't know. Please? Stevie, I can't be without you."

"You don't get to choose when someone forgives you, Munson. And you're not the only one who needs to apologize. Your friends need to own up to being wrong and accept that their view of Steve is wrong. That their treatment of him has been cruel." Robin replied.

"I need time alone, Eddie. I'll call you when I'm ready to talk." Steve walked away from the door, allowing Robin to shut it in Eddie's face.

I'm sorry I am considering making a second part to this, but I don't know if or when that will happen! Also on ao3 Now with a part 2!

[beauspot]

Amanda Rollins does not deserve Sonny Carisi

i am pretty much always in support of women in relationships (especially fictional) just because statistics are on women’s side, HOWEVER, amanda rollins is genuinely a terrible person and I don’t understand why she and carisi are together.

amanda victim blames women constantly (but gets defensive if the victim is a man?? like pick a standard) and she has done this for like a decade, she forgives men around her for the worst transgressions though.

she will always side with cops even in situations where they’re CLEARLY in the wrong like that woman who’s husband was abusing her. on top of that her simply being mean to people around her. she insulted nick multiple times and called carisi stupid and hasn’t apologized for it. she only goes to him when she’s having problems and even hijacked a moment where he was having his feelings about a vic DYING IN HIS ARMS to make the situation about herself.

meanwhile carisi is kind, he’s open, he’s always there for the victims, he helps with her kids, he cooks, he’s forgiving and she takes major advantage of that. she knows how he feels about her and it’s only after he starts seeing another woman that she suddenly realizes she feels the same? bull.

i’m not saying she had to get with carisi just because he liked her, it’s her choice. i just think the writers should have had him end up with someone better.

yeah yeah, amanda feels like she doesn’t deserve a good man because of her past blah blah blah. i get it abuse and trauma can warp the mind, believe me. i get it. but this doesn’t give her the right to be toxic as hell and rarely ever apologize for it.

let’s all just be very honest for a minute if amanda didn’t look the way she looked ��🏻, would anyone have put up with her mess this long? i think we all know the answer to that question.

carisi deserves someone like him, kind, caring, loving, so he can taking a freaking day off of caring about everyone else around him. instead he’s become a permanent babysitter. and they have completely altered his character to fit with hers. i don't know if it's just me, but from season 16-20 carisi was very bubbly and kind, now? he has become so mean. the best way I can explain this is through the relationship between kat and sonny. seasons 16/17 sonny and kat would be best friends. in the seasons kat is actually in they couldn't be any more different.

let me ask you. would early seasons sonny be caught dead in a situation that could even be misinterpreted as cheating? no. what happened to him?

and then the ship has the audacity to be forced and boring. r*llisi shippers are very insufferable to me and I want you to know now. no one cares about your opinion or the canon of the show.

i think what pisses me off the most is that they never even gave sonny a chance. we basically only got one serious sonny relationship which was with nicole (a black woman btw) and she was in what? 2 episodes??? then she never appears again and we’re supposed to assume they broke up or something before sonny makes out with rollins.

i feel like sonny was the most himself around amaro and barba, since they left he’s just…different.

[miley1442111]

hii love ur content!!! single-handedly carrying sydney adamu x reader fans rn LOL. was wondering if u could write something w femreader x syd where reader is filling in for marcus as he takes personal leave for his mom? like something with buildup and clear romantic tension in the kitchen btwn them and possible hesitation to act on it from syd’s end when they work together but immediately get tg afterwards ?? if you get the vision!! thank uuu <3333

thank you for requesting this, i love this idea so i'm going to give it two parts if that's ok!

i will always push the sydney adamu x reader agenda

in a minute- s.adamu

a/n: this is PART 1 of most likely two but i'm not sure yet. this is intended for a femreader but you can ignore that and imagine what you want :)

summary: you get a call from carmen berzatto to fill in as a pastry chef, you have nothing better to do, right?

pairing: sydney adamu x reader

warnings: mentions of a difficult workplace environment, mentions of verbal abuse, mentions of not communicating, cursing

Getting the call from Carmen Berzatto made you sick. He was your replacement in New York, he hated you, at least you thought he did. You were leaving New York for Paris, becoming a pastry chef after being sick of the stupid pressure and disgusting abuse you had gotten from restaurants over the years. Don’t get me wrong, being a pastry chef was difficult too, the insufferable people and bosses made you want to rip your hair out, but anything was better than New York. You had trained Carmen for a week, giving him your number in case he needed to ask any other questions. You assumed he’d deleted it. But no, four months into living in Chicago, teaching masterclasses and subbing in for people in various Michelin-star restaurants and bakeries, Carmen Berzatto called and asked if you could cover his pastry chef for a few weeks. You agreed and showed up the next day to see a restaurant that was not yet finished. Residue from walls lay on the floor, mould on the ceilings and an empty kitchen, bare of appliances met your eyes as you walked in. A pretty girl with headphones in stood in the locker room as you turned the corner and she startled when she noticed you. 

“Jesus! Y-you scared me,” she smiled, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” you smiled, stretching out your hand for a hand shake. “I’m y/n y/l/n, is Carmen Berzatto here? Or his partner, Sydney Adamu?”

“Oh my god, you’re Y/n y/ln. Like the only woman ever the International Union of Bakers and Pastry Chefs named ‘best pastry chef’,” she said, shocked that you were standing in front of her. 

You felt heat crawl up your back. You still couldn’t get used to people knowing who you were, it was strange. “The very same,” you practically grimaced. “So, are chefs Carmen or Sydney around?”

“I-I’m Sydney,” she smiled, shaking your hand. “Sorry if that was weird, I just… yeah.”

“It’s fine, I’m just awkward about it, don’t worry.”

“Ok,” she smiled, then snapped out of it. “What are you- I don’t know how to say this politely-”

“What am I doing here?” you finished for her and she nodded. “Carmen called me a few days ago, I trained him in New York and he apparently still has my number. He asked me to fill in for Marcus?” 

“Yeah, ok. So… umm, yeah ok. That’s cool,” She said, still coming to grips with it. 

“He didn’t tell you?” 

“No,” she admitted, sighing. 

“He always was kind of a dick. Don’t worry, I bet he’s just cooling-off or something, he used to get so angry we’d shove him in the freezer for a few minutes to let him calm down.��

Sydney looked at you in bewilderment. 

“I take it that he’s still like that?” you chuckled. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Only sometimes though.”

“‘Sometimes’ is too much for me, if he starts pulling that shit I’ll send him out. He’s such a baby sometimes,” you reminisced. “Sorry, if that’s rude since he’s your partner.”

“Well, he doesn’t really feel like a partner,” she sighed, leading you to the office. 

“Not communicating?”

“Never. I didn’t even know we were pulling down walls until they were down.”

“Shit, that’s awful,” you sighed. 

“I’ll call him and see where he is, just wait in here,” she smiled and opened the door for you, then left you alone. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEEK 1

Working at the Bear was different to anywhere else you’d worked. The people there were interesting in a way that only people outside of the Michelin-restaurant world could be. None of the bullshit you’d dealt with in New York, none of the crap you had to put up with in Paris. They were professional, but they cared about each other. Tina had become a good friend in only the one week you’d been there. Richie was pissing you off enough to warrant stabbing- something that had apparently happened before, and Carmen was either there all the time, or nowhere to be seen. 

And then, there was Sydney. Sydney had essentially fucked you up. From the moment you’d met her, you knew you were fucked. Her soft smile and endearing awkwardness made her basically irresistible. It was embarrassing how in just one week, you felt like you couldn’t be in the same room as her, yet you craved to be near her all the time. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Yo, you good?’ Sydney asked as you mapped out dessert ideas Marcus had sent you.

“Huh? Oh-yeah, all good,” you smiled.

“How do you like it?” she asked, cleaning the new silverware. 

“Like what?”

“The Bear?”

“It’s nice. Calmer than the restaurants I’ve worked in,” you answered and she laughed.

“This is calm for you?” 

“You should’ve seen Carmen and I’s boss in New York. Every night he’d make me stay until after closing, fixing any mistakes I’d made if I’d made any. After a while, it was just verbal abuse,” you chuckled and she smiled half-heartedly at you, her eyes missing the certain glow she usually had. 

“Sounds fun,” she joked, but it fell flat on both ends, then she walked away. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d made a fool of yourself, or made her uncomfortable. 

You internally kicked yourself. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEEK 2

You liked to pride yourself on two things, your standards in the kitchen, and your ability to stay calm under any circumstance. One of those didn’t apply to the current situation, and the other had been thrown out the window 3 minutes ago when this conversation started, more specifically, when Sydney started touching your arm. 

Carmen had finally come in and you’d gotten in a fight over the menu. You wanted something Marcus had suggested and Carmen wanted fucking fig rolls or something, you didn’t exactly know but you do know that it ended in you storming off to the back of the Bear and Carmen storming off to his office. You felt a swell in your heart when Sydney had come to you first, before she went to talk to Carmen. 

“You good?” she asked, accompanying you in the freezing air. You didn’t respond, still annoyed from the conversation. “Earth to Y/n?” Sydney had grabbed your arm and your eyes trained themselves on hers. 

“Yeah, just pissed,” you sighed, answering her first question. “He really doesn’t listen, does he?” You yawned. Sydney’s hand felt like it was burning itself into your skin. 

“No, he kind of refuses to,” she joked. “But if it makes you feel any better, I like your ideas more.”

“They’re Marcus’s ideas, just my drawings,” you were quick to deflect the compliment.

“Well they're beautiful,” she declared, with some uncertain meaning behind her words. ‘Well, you’re beautiful’ is what you picked up from her insinuation and your heart beat much faster than before. “Coming back in?” She dropped her hand and you finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“In a minute.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEEK 3 

Ok, so maybe you could pride yourself on just one more thing, the effect you had on Sydney. 

For the past two weeks, it’d been fleeting glances, the creating and taking of opportunities to touch each other, and small flirty conversation. Sydney had asked you to taste test some restaurants with her, and you had a great time. Conversation flowed, you felt relaxed for the first time in what felt like years, and you were spending time with the girl you liked. 

“Y/N?” You heard Sydney’s voice from behind you. “Behind!” she said. 

You had asked an old friend if you could borrow his restaurant's kitchen and he obliged, knowing he owed you a favour from when you saved him from being fired 7 years ago. 

“Yeah?” You called back, focused on your plating. 

“You almost done?”

“Almost,” you added the finishing touches to the plate and stepped back, a silent victory. It looked delicious. “Done!”

She handed you a fork and you took a bite at the same time. It tasted… terrible. You both spit it out into the sink behind you, then looked at each other and laughed. 

“That is god-awful,” you coughed, a laugh making its way out of your mouth.  

“Oh fuck that’s bad,” she laughed with you, a hand on your shoulder to brace herself. 

Both your laughters died down and her hand remained. She looked so beautiful, her hair pulled back in a blue bandana, her regular chef-white swapped for a green t-shirt and white overalls, and a smile on her face. You seized the moment and kissed her, it started out soft, cautious. Though it quickly divulged into something less sweet. Her tongue was in your mouth and your hands were roaming her waist. She gasped when you bit her lip and you smirked into the kiss. A buzzing noise pulled you two apart, heavy breathing and an uncomfortable stare of ‘what did we just do?’. You grabbed your buzzing phone, bag, and jacket, and left her in the restaurant. 

Was it the coward’s way out? Yes. Did that matter much to you? No. 

Not one bit.

[lacunasbalustrade]

notes whilst writing this insufferable idol lyric docs fic

mon. 4. dec.

<the movie director’s/ designated writer for friendgroup’s thought process>

voracious jewellery collector tries to rob cute jewellery shop owner of their rings and force them to bend the knee: villainous ohohoho (jk lol)

thus the K-pop 白痴 (knows zero about K-pop) attempts to write a fic about lyric docs- what can I say I love nothing better than a challenge (borderline masochistic suspicions)

line break because this is going to be long u have been warned. this is gonna be a journal for me ignoring the fact that tumblr itself is a journal

someone is going to know my suffering at stumbling headfirst into this world of idols. likely Kyoya. but i may change my mind

where the hell are those screenshots where mio and i discussed this. if you can’t tell already I��m one of those ridiculous ppl who needs the whole guidebook of encyclopaedic references to write.

went back the entire six months worth of conversations and finally found it, cringing at my every message like my dear God intended

I’m keeping all the lyric doc tabs open so I can read whilst i write

okay not Kyoya he’s into this too much

Rouga you’re my everything you’re my soul you’re just as dead as i am about this ‘what if we just go with disaster’

don’t get me wrong I’m enjoying this I’m just the kind of person to complain about everything and bitch all the way through only to appear with a shiny smile at the end of it

that is to say i like the steep learning curve but i also like to keep myself aware of how much I’m doing so i get to laugh at myself when i say ‘no problems’ later on

what do you call that character type

nvm back to writing

we’re starting this with a voiceover because i say so. draft here “future card buddyfight is a game that connects to parallel universes and allows monsters and humans to become buddies. in the wake of global events that have shattered his reputation, Gaen Kyoya decides to restart his cult by starting an (apparently) harmless idol management agency. By traveling to other worlds on a universal tour, will his newly formed idol groups be able to compete with the local talent? Will Gaen Kyoya be able to regain his reputation as a heartthrob? Most importantly, will the press-ganged idols ever get to play Buddyfight again? an earth-shattering screech is heard from the Gaen Tower. “Daddy always told me I’d be a star!”

Gaen Kyoya gives Shido Magoroku a strained smile. He’s in it to win it whatever the game. It’s too late to back out now, although he absolutely regrets - regrets, not deserves this.

rouga is doing the voiceover. this is disaster, the world tour movie. we’re gonna keep that secret till the end of the fic. (publishes this draft instantly and fails to keep any secret) whatever movies are announced anyway and it’s more fun to hype this up.

tasuku is not in an idol group as far as i have surmised from a quick scan- over. so he’s just going to show up to every performance and laugh at them. bro finally got to catch a break (and a good laugh)

wait ILL MAKE IT SEEM LIKE ITS ENDED AND THEN FLASHBACK TO ACE IDOL GROUPS AND BE LIKE - YOU THOUGHT, SUCKER, ITS NOT OVER YET!!!!

ah. I’m publishing this draft later. Should i just delete number 15 for my reputation?

nahhhhh.

if you couldn’t tell already I’m writing this as i go so this thought process is in chronological order

i already know I’m never going to read this again this guidebook to the movie director’s thought process comes at the cost of my dignity

who am i kidding i have no such thing called dignity (meow)

this is my reference draft so I’m going to drop the cropped screenshots here for ease of rememberance

note: is polery a thing??? anyways

oh my gosh. mio u really changed two names because i liked certain options better. i love you.

I’ve become softer because now I find the options for band names I like are different (reverie, paradoxus, wishing star and hikari to tomo ni) which really makes me want to break down.

I am in a better place, a quieter place, and it shows. (charting my own growth like a parent checking their child’s height against markings on the wall)

22. there are basically two bands from first season can i really stretch the whole fic out and really make it seem like it ended with just that

23. who am I kidding I’ll be lucky if i can even stretch the fic out my highest amount of words so far is 3000 I haven’t even finished my long fic for Tasuku yet (hellooooo, my dearest procrastination)

24. in conclusion let’s just run with it. i wanna have it out in time for mio’s bday i have like a month and a day.

25. Tasuku is in the idol list. my memory be like sand flowing away with the tide

26. anyways

27. how’s that’s supposed to work

28. like i believe i could spout some nonsense about Kyoya. bribing everyone. because what good are riches except for yknow bribing people to become idols.

29. what ifff he saved a record of disaster’s ridiculous meetings and said with a straight face and smile as usual - “we’ll all sink on this ship, my friends”

30. basically blackmail. hmmm

31. i will find out when i start writing! (conclusion)

32. at first i was going to read fics to find out more about the idol industry but all the fics are au fics so that’s a bust

33. instead i am waving to chat gpt so if there’s any inaccuracy go blame Elon Musk like we do for everything under the sun

34. did Elon Musk even make chat gpt

35. I don’t care anymore that’s not relevant

work in progress for obvious reasons. will update this stupid post.

the relevant tags: note to self

also a line to your friend that kinda hit me when I was browsing by the posts to find those relevant tags:

“it’s now kinda buried under 200+ songs in my playlist, but when it plays, I never skip it.”

(italics at my own risk)

[qveerthe0ry]

Hi there!

Joel brought you into the fandom, but is he still your favorite? Have any other characters stolen your heart?

Ahhhh omg I love this question!!

It’s so hard to choose a favorite… They’re all so different and lovely in their own unique way… so I will say that it’s a three-way tie and give in-depth answers as to why 😂

Joel is definitely still a favorite. I am madly in love with the way he becomes so vulnerable, something he clearly promised himself he’d never be again. It’s so endearing and also heartbreaking, the way he tries so hard not to love Ellie because of the hurt that was caused by loving his own daughter, only to end up mass-murdering for her and comparing Ellie to Sarah at the end of the season. It’s so easy to fall in love with him, little by little, as you watch him open up in increments. From the reluctant worry over Ellie, to the way he stays up all night guarding her sleeping bag because she’s scared, to the FINALLY laughing at her jokes, to the ‘do you trust me?,’ the stables scene and ‘you deserve a choice,’ the way he tells her to leave him for dead, the babygirl scene that directly mirrors Sarah’s death scene, all the way to trying to cheer her up with Chef-Boyardee and Boggle and promises of guitar lessons and ‘it wasn’t time that did it.’ All of these little moments just made my heart grow so so big for this character. There is also something so sexy about a guy who is a tough nut to crack, only to find that his center is sweet and gooey and decadent. And then he’s also such a dilf and the GRAYS are just 😍

Second, and this one surprises me, is Frankie Morales. I will preface this by saying I am way more enamored by fanfic Frankie than the actual movie character. TF isn’t my favorite type of movie, and we get so little of Frankie in it, so I’m very self-aware of the fact that fics and fandom head-canons have overtaken my judgement. BUT. Because we get so little of him, it’s very easy to mold him into what we want, which is so fun when it comes to writing. We know canon Frankie is the most reserved of the bunch, and that he is a family man, and he’s very level-headed. But what flavor of reserved is he? Aloof, brooding, and dark? Love it. Shy, hesitant, and sad? Also love it. I love that the fandom has all agreed that he is the pussy eating king, a golden retriever boyfriend, and also fairly commonly bisexual/pansexual. Also, he is so CUTE. His little curls under his little hat, and his tiny little butt, and his patchy beard, and his puppy dog eyes. Textbook definition of boyishly handsome, which is so different from most Pedro characters’ looks.

Third is the disaster bisexual himself, Dieter Bravo. Listen. It took me like four times to finally watch The Bubble all the way through. What a nightmare. But I really do think Dieter is the shining star of that movie. He has a little bit of those Joel vibes. At the beginning he’s this cocky, Tony Stark-esque character, mysterious and full of himself. But he very quickly dissolved into this sad little guy on drugs, which is just a great brand honestly. I do have the same fanfic-tinted lenses for him as Frankie, but honestly this man is so unhinged that I’m pretty sure every Dieter fic I’ve ever read is in-character and could totally be canon. I love that he is so reckless but also such a sweetheart at the core, ie: crying over a baby goat and falling in love with a receptionists because she’s like the first person to actually treat him with kindness. Also as someone who’s non-binary/gender-fluid, I really dig the ‘I’ll sleep with anyone’ vibes. He seems like the most attainable Pedro character in that regard 😂

Honorable mentions because I’m insufferable: Din Djarin for kind of the same reason as Joel, but also being so fucking funny without even trying just because of The Way That He Is

and

Marcus Pike because I just love a good sweet angel boyfriend 😌

Thank you thank you thank you for this ask 🫶🏻💕💖🥰 I had fun coming up with my extremely convoluted answer lol

[flipping-the-coin]

For Megatron and Orion, do either of you have any quirks that get on each other’s nerves?

From the desk of  Head Archivist: Orion Pax Hall of Records East Trion Square Iacon

Oh, this is a rather personal inquiry. I did not expect anyone to have questions about my relationship with my Conjunx, but I do not mind answering such things. Megatronus and I are quite open about our grievances with each other, so there is nothing I can share that he does not already know. Once I arrive back home, I will pass this inquiry to him, so that he may answer as well. 

At the forefront of my processor: Megatronus, for some unknown reason, refuses to stop moving my things around. I am uncertain why he has taken it upon himself to torture me by reorganizing my paints and datapads so incessantly. I know where I put my things, and I expect my things to be where I put them. Does he not understand how many pieces of calligraphy have been ruined because he thought best to reorganize my paints? I have practically begged him to stop, but to no avail. I do not understand it. 

Megatronus has also a deep grudge against Ratchet that he simply refuses to let go of. He has never liked Ratchet. I understand some of his anger towards him now; Ratchet has been quite the glitch towards me lately, and Megatronus has always been overprotective of me. But this runs deeper than that. Megatronus views Ratchet as a threat to both me physically and his claim on me.  He cannot get it out of his helm this idea that Ratchet is so callous towards me because he is jealous he cannot have me and that one cycle he will try to kill me over it. I have not been able to ease the discontent in his spark, no matter how much I have tried. 

My Conjunx also tends to become angry or defensive rather quickly. This is not an issue I face with him, personally (he is always exceptionally patient and gentle with me), but rather how he reacts to others. This has been a source of irritation between us since the beginning. He is especially defensive over our relationship and his political views. He is not as bad as he used to be, however. In the past, he was prone to lashing out with violence first. Now, violence is his last resort. I am extremely proud of him for that.  

The only other thing I can think of that irritates me is how often Megatronus leaves the berth during our recharge cycles. I think it’s leftover coding from the war. He patrols and tidies the whole hab and sometimes the yard as well. He can’t settle until he goes through his process, which I understand, but I still often come online alone. Without him beside me, I struggle to keep warm, and I admit that I do not always feel safe enough to recharge when I am not wrapped up with him. I have to wait for him to return to me to fall back into recharge. He knows it bothers me, so he sometimes brings me a snack to make up for my discomfort. 

Please do not misunderstand me, I could not ask for a better Conjunx. He is attentive to my needs, vulnerable with me about his emotions, and is the most romantic mech I have ever met. He has his flaws, as all mechs do, and is a bit rough around the edges, but that is partially what makes him so attractive to me. Thank you for your inquiry. It has been my pleasure answering it. 

Head Archivist: Orion Pax

My apologies, Anonymous One, for the wait. I take full responsibility for the delay in this response. Orion gave me this inquiry of yours several cycles ago, and I fully admit that its existence slipped from my processor. I admit that I was more focused on “attending to his needs” than I was with thinking about how he annoys me. It’s nothing personal, “attending his needs” is simply a more pleasant endeavor. 

Since you asked, however: Yes, there are things Orion does that gets under my plating from time to time. I make it no secret that he can be an insufferable little glitch when he wants to be. 

The first thing that comes to my processor is how finicky the mech can be about everything. He is not one who cares about style, but he does for textures, both visual and tactile. Every piece of furniture I wish to purchase has to pass the Pax look and touch test to see if it is worthy. This is partially why we have so little furniture and decor in our hab. Orion is just… particular. This also flows into his fuel choices, brands of paints, datapads, his rocks, even the sorts of crystals he prefers.

He is especially fond of sweets, which isn’t a problem on its own. The problem is when he loses track of how much he is consuming, and fuels himself on sweets until he makes himself sick. It’s a mess I don’t enjoy cleaning up. He has little self-control when it comes to his favorite fuels; including intoxicants. Although, I can’t say that I become annoyed when he overindulges in high grade. We always have a fantastic time together when he decides he wants to drink.

Orion also becomes overfocused on certain things he is doing, which leads him to forget miniscule things.  For example; when he is deep in research mode, he often wanders the hab with his face buried in whatever datapad he’s engrossed in. He will forget to close the refrigerant unit, leave lids off of fuels, forget to turn off faucets… any number of small, yet necessary tasks. He simply becomes so focused that I am not certain he even realizes what he is doing outside of his primary task. 

He is also insufferably stubborn in some areas; fighting battles that do not need to be fought. My reputation, for example, is exactly where I expect it to be given my role in our planet’s destruction, yet he insists on fighting for my acceptance in society. He seems to have a knack for refusing to let go of lost causes. Another example is his ‘friendship’ with that slagging medic. 

I don’t know what it will take for Orion to realize that Ratchet is not his friend. They may have been close in the past, but now that medic is nothing more than a walking explosive. His ‘medical care,’ if it can even be called that anymore, is nothing more than physical and emotional torment, yet Orion always excuses it away as if that is normal behavior for friends. Ratchet has done nothing but betray him since the war started, and Orion refuses to see that and listen to reason. It's the most frustrating thing about him, if I’m being completely honest. 

-Megatron

[msmorningstaarr]

Holy and Heathen - Chapter 5 (I am hers and she is mine.)

Pairing: young!Oberyn Martell x Female OC (Melara Hightower)

Word count: 9.3k

Chapter warning: oberyn longing for his sister; sex; smut; melara likes it but feels guilt so could it be considered to be dubcon?;

ao3 | masterlist

SUMMARY: Lady Melara Hightower is the youngest daughter of Lord Leyton Hightower and has a distinct, serious and pious personality. She is sent to serve the Faith as a Septa, but her destiny suddenly changes once she becomes betrothed to the heir of Dorne, Prince Oberyn Martell. She sees herself living in a land far from hers with distinct habits, dealing with many divergences and a husband far more wild than she could ever expect. Would she be capable of lighting the way of her mind and heart?

(Except for Melara Hightower, all characters do not belong to me but to George RR Martin, author of the 'A Song of Ice and Fire' book series.)

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa

Oberyn

The ride back home was insufferable. His mother demanded him to apologise to his lady bride and have some time entertaining Melara after his absent behaviour towards her, but the blonde girl was constantly in the presence of her handmaidens and showed little interest in being around him. Oberyn wanted to try and push his betrothed to the edge once more, although she seemed so frightened it took all the fun of trying it. Oberyn desired for Melara to be like Elia, to dress like her and act like her if it was possible. In his most inner thoughts, she was everything he had left, the closest of Elia he could ever get. On the other hand, Melara was so distant from his sister it enraged him to know he had to marry a girl who only wished to pray from dusk till dawn and rather live in poverty washing the feet of the poor than marrying him. 

Being back on Dorne at least brought him some comfort. Elia left a few of her belongings like a necklace or a veil with him so he wouldn’t forget about her scent or her at all, as if it would be possible. After so many days on the road, he yearned for some time resting on his bed, having a fair whore regardless of their gender and wine to relax. More than this, he yearned to see his daughters. 

It has been more than a month without the presence of his babes and not listening to their childish laughing and feeling their flustered embraces, he missed them dearly. Instead of going to Sunspear with the royals and the entourage, he chose to go to the Water Gardens where he would see his two girls, Nymeria and Obara. Oberyn could already hear the outburst Obara was throwing at her nurse because she wanted to be with her ‘papa’. His lips formed a smile thinking about her. For as much as Nymeria used to be more ladylike and calm, Obara could be indubitably mistaken for a sand storm. At six years of age, she demonstrated to be her father’s daughter and took great enthusiasm in sword fighting and spear fighting as well and even sharing the ill tempered blood and sharp tongue Oberyn proudly had. Nymeria, on the other hand was still very little and had only four completed name days of life, having her biggest interests to be watching her father practising with the spear and daggers, although Oberyn could not allow her to manipulate them yet, due to her age.

“Papa!” Obara ran into her father, full of happiness. Nymeria held the skirt of her dress and ran after her sister with her tiny legs, trying not to fall on the floor. Oberyn tittered widely and held the girls in his arms. 

“Sweet girls,” He smiled, lifting the girls in the air and carrying one on each arm.

“I am not sweet, papa!” Obara exclaimed.

Oberyn giggled.“What are you, then?”

“I am a soldier, like you!” She replied, determined.

The prince leaned his forehead on hers, lovingly. “Of course you are. But even the bravest of warriors can be loved by their fathers as well, Obara.”

“I am your sweet girl, father.” Nymeria said, clinging into his arms in the time they walked near a pool.

“And I am most glad for it. I have a warrior and a lady to call ‘my daughters’.” He smiled at his youngest. 

“Did you brought something for us?” Obara questioned, agitated.

“Yes,” He replied, smirking. “But first, I need to know if you were on your best behaviour.”

The girls looked at each other for a moment in silence. “Obara cursed our nurse and stomped on her foot, papa!” Nymeria exclaimed, pointing her fingers at her eldest sister. Obara, enraged, let her small hand reach her sister’s hair, aggressively pulling it when they were still in their father’s arms. Oberyn abruptly stopped the confrontation between the sisters and put the girls on the floor, separating them.

“I just arrived home and I will hear no more screaming from both of you.” He said, sternly annoyed. The girls, slightly intimidated, retreated and nodded their heads in respect. “I expect both of you to be on your best behaviour with everyone, even your nurses. Is that understood?” They nodded once more, quietly.

“Sorry, papa.” They said, in unison. Oberyn extended his hands and Obara held one insofar Nymeria held the other, following their father.

He caressed the dark hair of his children, slowly. “The servants left your gifts in your chambers.” He said, with a sly grin. The girls clapped their small hands in excitement. 

“What did you bring?” Nymeria asked, curious. 

“It will be a surprise, sweetling.” He caringly brushed his daughter’s jawline. “First, we will pick a book from the library so I can read something for you. Then, I promise to show you my gifts.” The girls happily agreed and balanced their heads quickly.

The truth was that he had forgotten about bringing them something from King’s Landing. He was so absorbed with everything happening there that he gave no thought to his girls, something that made him feel slightly ashamed. However, during the journey he demanded the entourage to stop so he could take something for his babe snakes. To Obara, he bought a wooden sword and spear for her practice and for Nymeria two new dolls, since the girl did not show yet a true desire to learn how to be a warrior like her elder sister.

“Did you miss me?” He asked, softly.

“Yes!” Nymeria and Obara replied together.

“Why did you travel with grandmother, father?” Obara asked and Oberyn frowned.

“We were bringing my future wife to our home.” He replied, quietly awaiting their thoughts on the situation. 

“Will we have a new mother?” Nymeria asked, confused. Obara lowered her eyes and changed her expression. Even at a young age, his first daughter was very intense with emotions, albeit very reserved. He noticed her hands sweating and face turning into a concerned one, but trying to keep her emotions aside.

“Yes,” He replied, simply. “I need to have trueborn children.” The girls looked at him with puzzled eyes. 

“But we are your children, papa.” Obara replied, slightly offended.

Oberyn sighed and kneeled to be on the same level as them. “Yes, you are.” He gently brushed his fingers on their cheeks. “But still, I am not married to your mothers, therefore, it makes you two bastards.” He continued. “I love you, dearly. But I need more children to rule Dorne officially when I die.”

Obara crossed her arms, outraged. “This is not fair, papa!” Nymeria pouted, turning her back to Oberyn.

“You are too young to fathom it, sweetlings.” He sat at the stoned floor by the pool and patted the floor for them to sit as well. “Bastards can thrive in our land, girls. To me, it doesn’t change the way I see you. I plan for you to have great futures beyond the Sunspear throne, just like many other bastards here in Dorne. You will be free to be whatever you desire.” They would have the freedom he yearned to have and could never afford. The girls looked at him suspiciously. Oberyn grabbed Obara’s chin to make the girl face him. “You will be a knight, sparring and conquering many victories for Dorne, leading our tropes in the wars to come right by my side.” Then, Oberyn made Nymeria look at him. “And you,” He squeezed gently Nymeria’s hand. “Will be as deadly as Obara is. Perhaps even more, hiding your danger beneath this purple silk you take joy in wearing.” He smiled, bringing his daughters together. “You two are my true legacy, my image. But you occupy different positions in this family.” He replied, genuinely. “Being a bastard or not, you are blood of my blood. My little vipers, my sand snakes.” Oberyn smirked and involved his arms around the children in a tender manner. The girls smiled and kissed his cheeks, eventually calming themselves with the affirmation words Oberyn spoke.

Obara stood up next to her father and her sister, as they turned to walk once more. “Is she pretty?”

The prince wetted his lips with his tongue and his head recollected about Melara for a moment and on her appearance, remembering her plump lips and shy, blue eyes, her shimmering blonde hair and ethereal, quiet beauty. “She is. In fact, she comes from the same place as you. Oldtown.”

Obara raised her eyes to her father. “Is she a whore like my mother too?”

The dornish prince giggled. “No, no, my love. She is a noble lady from a castle named ‘Hightower’.” Nymeria and Obara narrowed her eyes in amazement. Oberyn was glad he could explain this to Obara before, otherwise he was absolutely sure Melara would feel at least furious with her assumption.

“She is a lady like my mother!” The youngest exclaimed, cheerful.

“Yes, love.” He tenderly caressed the back of her hand. “But your mother comes from Volantis and so do you.”

“Do you believe she’ll like us, father?” Obara asked, apprehensively fiddling her fingers.

“She will be a dead woman if she doesn’t.” He swore, escorting his daughters.

“What is her name?” Obara kept her interrogatory going.

“Lady Melara Hightower.” He smirked.

The imponent child shrugged. “I suppose it is a fair name, father. When can we see her?” 

“Soon.” Oberyn promised.

“Soon when?” Obara impatiently asked.

Calmly, Oberyn replied. “In her time,” She pouted his lips. “Lady Melara is on a hardship adapting to Dorne.”

“Is she here in the Water Gardens? I want to see her!” Nymeria pleaded to him.

“She is with your grandmother in the Old Palace, love.” He said, opening the door of the library and entering the room after his daughters. “You must wait for a while before getting to know her. Even I must wait.”

“I need to see if she is pretty and kind, father!” Nymeria said, trying to reason with her father. Oberyn did in fact want to introduce Obara and Nym to Melara, but his own mind advised him to prepare the ground before putting them all together. He feared Melara would despise his daughters for being bastards and he was in no mood to tear apart fights between an adult woman and two children.

“She is very pretty, trust my words, Nym.” He said, grabbing a book to read for the girls when in the meanwhile they sat on a comforting sofa in front of him.

“Can you tell us how she is, father?” Nymeria asked, intrigued.

“Of course,” He turned his face to the infants and sat in a chair in front of them. “Melara is so pale that her skin seems to be made out of snow. Her eyes are bright blue like the sea from the Isle of Tarth.” Oberyn continued, placing the book on his lap. “She is not very tall, albeit has a slender body. And her hair is so golden that it's similar to that silvery Targaryen hair.”

Obara and Nymeria opened their mouths in the shape of an “O” once they heard how Melara was, flabbergasted with the information they just received. “But pale people are rather strange, father.” Obara replied and Oberyn chuckled. “Do you think that if she spends some time under the sun she can look not so pale like me, you and Nym?” 

He laughed. “You can suggest it to her in the future, sweet girl.” Then, he opened the black book to read with the girls, something they would do on a daily basis. “I’ll read to you tonight your favourite tale. ‘The Dragon’s Wroth’.” 

The story about the first Dornish War when House Targaryen attempted to make Dorne bend the knee and acknowledge Aegon the Conqueror as their rightful King, following by House Martell being able to defeat and kill the dragon Meraxes and Queen Rhaenys Targaryen was definitely Obara and Nymeria’s favourite narrative. Oberyn always made sure to read it to them whenever they asked. He read the whole book to the girls and after this he did as he promised and showed their presents after that moment. Obara and Nymeria shouted and twirled around, dazzled with their new items and holding their father’s thighs whilst thanking him for remembering them. Those smiles were priceless to him. His next children with Melara would grow close to them, wanting his bride or not and he would never allow any kind of ill treatment towards Obara or Nymeria.  

After this brief moment with the girls, the salty prince could notice that Obara was nervous, fearful. She would never admit it to him, but Oberyn noticed it all. Nymeria had constant contact with her own mother who sent her letters and gifts from Volantis. However, Obara’s mother drank to death after Oberyn took her away from her arms in that brothel in Oldtown. His first born was a tough girl, never cried in front of him or anyone and seemed to be fearless in front of people, but he would often see how the lack of a motherly presence weighed on her at such a young age. At least for this Melara could have a good use in this marriage, he thought. Obara needed to feel safe to be fearless and he would do anything to provide it for her and Oberyn would make it clear for Melara if she ever tried to convince him the opposite of it.

*********

And after a few days after a month, there he was, standing on the Sept of Sunspear, surrounded by the Martells and some of his bannermen watching him being wedded to Lady Melara. She looked beautiful, wearing an ivory dress with grey stars embroidered on the upper part and golden suns on its tail. Pearls and diamonds were added to her garment and on her jewellery, alongside the long, heavy sleeves reaching the floor. The design was not revealing but it showed her pale collarbones, all red due to sunburn. Her hair was half combed and half loose, with twisted locks and braids in alternate sections, with a hairpin on the top of her hair leaving a cascade of crystals going down her silvery blonde hair and exposing how exquisite and rich House Hightower is. Oberyn wore an ivory robe made of Myrish silk, forming a pattern with suns crossed by a red spear, having a light yellow tunic under the long robe he wore. On his neck, golden chains involved him with an extravagant pendant of House Martell sigil inserted in it, contrasting with his olive skin. His black curls were big and as usual, a small lock would fall over his left eye. He also carried golden rings on his fingers, his ancestral sword “Nymeria’s daughter” and a stern look seeing Melara walk down the aisle.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." The septon began once Melara stopped by his side. Undeniably, she was stunning. Almost as marvellous as Elia. Oberyn covered her carefully with the cloak she prepared and her face finally met his, screaming anxiety. His fingers lightly touched her chin and he turned back at the clergyman.

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

Melara sighed and Oberyn felt his freedom escape through his fingers like sand going back to the ground. The young couple joined hands in front of the crowd and the septon tied the ribbon around their hands. He noticed how Melara blinked her eyes repeatedly to avoid crying in front of him. Oberyn, on the other hand, was uninterested in her. The prince found her innocence to be enticing at first… now it was abhorrent.

"Let it be known that Prince Oberyn of House Nymeros Martell and Lady Melara of House Hightower are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." The septon announces next, "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." Soon after, he unravels the ribbon. The septon commands. "Look upon each other and say the words."

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…” They repeated at the same time.

“I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,” Oberyn locked his gaze on hers.

“I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.” It was almost done… he approached her, slowly.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” And their lips encountered on a gentle kiss as applauses rounded for the newlyweds. It was done, he was married to the girl his mother chose. He was married for more than three minutes and Oberyn already felt stuck, suffocated. Oberyn pondered if she would fancy the lovemaking as much as he did. She glanced at him and the prince tried to ease her tension with assuring eyes while walking out from the Sept.

“It’s done, my lady.” The first words he would state to her in days since that infamous night at the Red Keep.

Melara made gentle steps by his side, facing the floor. “It is done, Ser.” She spoke, quietly. Her hands were sweaty and shaking the whole time he was holding it and making their way to the Great Hall.

The only people Oberyn felt like interacting were his children, but the girls were not allowed in the ceremony, due to their young ages. The prince was in no mood for interacting with people during the feast. When he left Elia behind, it felt bad, sad, overwhelming. The moments he neglected the company of his now wife during the ride back home, Oberyn could not bear spending his time with Melara. Not because she was displeasing him, but because he could not stand the fact she was not his sister. He always knew he had to overcome this feeling and let her go eventually, however, the more he tried, the more drowned into Elia. His mother was very aware of it and tried to separate them, turning out to be successful in the end. Howbeit, Melara was nothing he expected. The prince was hoping to see her more loose and turning to be more cunning when she comes to distance from her family, but she remained the same: dreadful, quiet, melancholic.

“Would you like to dance, my lady?” He asked, drinking a sip of his wine.

“I am not particularly fond of dancing, my lord.” She replied, taciturn. Oberyn had no clue about her thoughts, feelings. He had made so much progress with her before and he felt like they went backwards. The Gods saw he was on his best conduct to be caring to her and Melara was reclusive, refusing to even speak to her father after the ceremony. She only observed and talked to some few words to the lords who came to present themselves at her and make some curtsy, something she apparently was not very amused to do. Giving her some credit, he hated the false politeness any court required and made no secret about this, Melara had no intentions to hide her feelings about it either and he admired her for it, at least.

“Accordingly, you should get acquainted with dancing and singing. I am rather keen on tournaments and feasts, you as my wife must follow me.” He pointed out, watching the guests dancing along.

Melara sighed and fiddled her fingers. “Yes, husband. I shall endeavour my best.”

Her silence annoyed him, but most of the time it was easier to imagine someone he could see as his equal by his side instead of her. Once more, his mind brough Elia back. No one would be good enough for him, especially Melara.

“Why do you have such reticent behaviour?” Oberyn asked, trying to control his bothersomeness.

Melara turned to him with unease. “I am what I am, Ser.”

“Stop with this nonsense of calling me ‘Ser’,” he rolled his eyes. “You were more engaged in conversation on the evening we met, my wife. Should I be concerned I did something wrong?”

“Of course not,” She replied quickly. “I must apologise for my attitude. I was too distant from you.”

Oberyn curved the corner of his lips and frowned, unworried. “I was not at my best demeanour as well, I must admit.”

After some moments of silence between them, Melara seemed apprehensive and drank her glass of wine to have the courage to open her mouth. “I…  I was contemplating if my… actions have displeased you.” She muttered, hesitant.

The prince bit his lips and brushed his fingers over it. “Only your lack of emotions, my lady. But I was deeply rejoiced the moment you expressed your pleasure to me.” Melara blushed and faced the floor, ashamed. “There is no need to be embarrassed, Melara.”

“It does not feel right, husband.”

Oberyn stared at her, confused. “What, exactly?”

“To feel… those feelings.” She anxiously fiddled her fingers.

Oberyn laughed. “Is only natural, wife.” He leaned to her earlobe and Oberyn could feel her goosefleshing to the proximity. His mind was already dominated by the strongly sweet Dornish Red. “Do you still remember that night you rode my thigh?” He whispered.

Melara tried to look away, swallowing her own spit. “I-I do…”

Oberyn smirked. “Your body could not lie to me that night. Your little cunt was so wet it made my trousers a mess, all covered in your wetness.” Melara’s cheeks were burning red that moment. With the tip of his fingers, he brought her gaze to face him. “Your hips were riding me so easily, desperate to release. It was natural, you were perfect that night, my lady.”

Her eyes were tearful. “Bedding is to produce heirs and only, husband.”

The Martell laughed. “Lies!” he exclaimed, with a cocky grin. “You may not be my first, second, third or perhaps even my fourth choice of bride, but I intend to make you scream my name on our first night as a wedded couple.”

Melara faced him, with a consternated expression. “I was instructed in different manners. According to the Faith and the…”

His lips curled on a pout before he cut her words. “You belong to me now. You will enjoy the new things I’ll teach you.”

Melara sighed and nodded, passively listening. “I will not deny you any marital rights, husband. I will provide you with children.”

Oberyn could not help but feel as if he was walking in circles around Melara. The girl was so dutiful it bored Oberyn in a matter of seconds, he did not remember her that way.

After a deep breath, he opened his mouth. “Thereupon, this is a promise that you will take pleasure on our first night, my lady?”

Melara nodded silently, slightly uncomfortable with the situation. “Yes, husband.”

Oberyn doubted she would actually take any pleasure, although he was very engaged in pleasing all his partners. Seeing Melara so distressed actually made Oberyn sad, at times. He realised she would never be Elia and it made his heart ache with a strange anxiety. He could have any woman in the world - in fact, he had one of the fairest maidens of the Seven Kingdoms despite her abnormal personality and she was his by oath. Nonetheless, it did not felt enough. The conversations with Elia were much easier to develop, they understood each other fastly. He loved Elia as a woman, even knowing he would never take her as a woman on his bed. The woman he wanted would never be his and the life he longed for he would never live, in behalf of his duty.

“I also intend to keep my promise.” He gently patted her hand.

“Which promise?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.

“To be gentle once I take your maidenhead.”

“Oh… thank you, husband.” Melara said, giving him a sympathetic expression and blushing deeply on her cheeks.

He would never be cruel towards his lady wife. He could notice she was not a bad person, just not very well adjusted and for thus, she deserved to be well treated. But when it came to affection, he was very little attracted to her. Oberyn held no high spirit when it came to chastity or shyness, except for the moments where he met her when her naivety was attractive. The prince grew bored after a troubled beginning of their relationship. He appreciated the chaos and Melara was as peaceful as a calm sunset breeze or a lonely star in the sky.

“My lady,” Ysilla approached Oberyn and Melara, smiling at them sitting in the High Table. “Son,”

“Mother.” The couple talked in unison and the princess mother grinned.

“You should see how wonderful you appear together. Painters would portray the image of the Mother and Father with your faces.”

“I appreciate your words, mother.” Melara earnestly responded. At least Ysilla and her were creating a bonding time and his wife seemed much more comfortable around his mother than himself, something that also bothered him once the girl was often distant, wary and he had her under the impression she was scared of him. It made him tempted to send her to the Water Gardens where she would live for the rest of her days and encounter him once a year to give him a child. Could be a better arrangement for both, he thought. Far less cruel than obliging her to be in his presence and him on hers.

“I only speak the truth, sweet girl.” Her eyes shrink, displaying some wrinkles on the edge of her eyes when she grinned at her good daughter. “What a fine work the dressmaker did with the pearls and diamonds. A divine embroidery, my dear.”

“My father brought this fabric from Qarth.” Melara had a coy grin on her lips. He envied his mother for at least being able to socialise with Melara.

“Please, come and join me. I need to introduce you to some ladies and lords, I am sure you will be delighted to meet them.”

Melara stood up and waited for Oberyn’s consent to move forward. “Yes, mother.”

The Hightower lady faced her husband and received a discreet nod. “If you excuse me, my prince.”

“Please, be my guest, my lady.” Oberyn pointed to his mother as a sign for her to leave.

Melara nodded and walked away from the table for the first time with her mother by law. Both ladies left, holding their arms in the direction of a small group of people. He remained sitting down, still showing no desire to interact with other lords that day. For a natural social man, that was an odd comportment, but he gave no care to good manners and gestures that night. He thought about Elia in King’s Landing with Rhaegar, yearning for a letter, since he only received one after arriving back in Sunspear, where she wrote him flirtatious words about how she missed him and how she dreamed that Rhaegar changed his face like a faceless man and had Oberyn’s face instead, Elia claimed to be one of her happiest dreams. 

He gazed vacantly on the dance floor, trying to forget about the things on his mind. Oberyn was a positive man, despite everything he would always try to take some advantage of the situation.

From afar, his vision catched a lady and his heart skipped a beat. It could not be possible the similarities, even if the lady was on her back to Oberyn. Her black, long hair could only belong to one person: Elia. He walked eagerly towards the lady, feeling his heartbeat so fast it made his body exhilaratingly vibrate in synchrony with the loud song playing in the Great Hall of Sunspear after spending that long time away from his sister. Mayhaps it was the large amount of wine he drank or simply an illusion, he didn’t care, it was vital for Oberyn to have another moment with her.

Carefully, he touched the back of the lady and she turned to face him, bowing at his presence. “Prince Oberyn.”

He was disappointed at her, afterwards she was not Elia. “My apologies, my lady. I have mistaken you for someone else, I thought you were my sister.” Oberyn replied, with a soft giggle.

The girl laughed. “You honour me with your words, my prince. But in reality, I am to be sent to King’s Landing to be her lady-in-waiting.”

Oberyn smirked. “Oh, for this reason, I insist you dance with me.” He muttered, seductively. The girl did not blushed or turned down his invitation, extending her arm for him to kiss. Slowly, he leaned his lips on the back of her hand and walked with her to the middle of the dance floor. Her face was the opposite of Elia, but she was beyond alluring. She had profound dark hair and unique, bewitching violet eyes who resembled some Valyrian heritage, except for the lack of silver hair. She could only belong to one house. “By the colour of your eyes, I assume you are from House Dayne. Youngest or oldest?” He asked, spinning her body during the dance. 

The girl beamed. “Youngest, Ashara Dayne.”

Oberyn smirked at her. “I must declare that your beauty has caught my attention, Lady Ashara.”

Ashara stared at Melara from afar, who stared at them with a numb expression. “I am afraid your lady wife will loathe me if she listens to the things you are telling me now, my prince.”

“Not something to worry about, my lady,” he spoke, briefly gazing at his wife. “For I believe she is not very fond of me either.”

Ashara giggled and both raised their arms in the air along with the others dancing. “I am sure she does, Prince Oberyn. Every woman shall love their husbands, just as every husband must love their wives.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “However, I believe we are not a part of this saying, my lady,” He grinned. 

“Oh,” Ashara gasped, holding his arm on another dance step. “Love grows out of the strangest of things. You will find in your heart to love her and she will love you too.”

Oberyn stared at her and chuckled. “You are very wise in your words, my lady.”

“And you are the most kind, red viper.” She giggled.

“When you arrive in King’s Landing, tell my sister I love her very much. And that I miss her dearly.” He asked, with a solemn expression.

“I shall deliver the message, my prince.” She grinned once the music ended. 

“Thank you, Lady Ashara.” Oberyn bowed at her and glanced at Melara, always fidgeting her fingers and trying to be as nice as possible to the ones talking to her. 

“No need to thank me, for my advice is always freely given, my prince.” Ashara said, politely. 

Oberyn smiled smugly and danced with her until someone asked the hand of Lady Ashara for a dance. Her presence was unexpectedly amusing and kind, resembling Elia in many aspects. Perhaps it was the fact they shared the same culture and many things in common, but in his head her resemblance to Elia spoke volumes to his wishes to be around Ashara. 

Eventually, the new couple reunited together and Melara was back to her recluse expression. Oberyn ruminated if Melara held some grudge over him, because he saw her being courteous to a few lords and holding her step mother’s hands for a moment, though their relationship seemed to be queer on her parent’s side too. Oberyn observed Lord Leyton and Lady Rhea from a certain distance, raising his goblet in the air.

“My lords, my ladies,” the man started. “Lord Leyton started. “We gather here today to celebrate not only the union of our two houses but also the enduring spirit of our realm. As we witness the union of House Hightower and House Martell, let us raise our goblets to honour their marriage. May the Mother bless them with many heirs and keep our bloodline alive and powerful.”

Lady Rhea, standing beside Lord Leyton, smiled warmly, in agreement with the crowd's applause. The great hall was filled with the clinking of cups and joyful chatter as the guests celebrated the joyous occasion.

Oberyn raised his goblet alongside Melara and looked at her, raising her goblet as well. “A toast to us, then.” She said.

Melara and Oberyn exchanged glasses and one drank the wine from the goblet of the other. He could feel her lavender scent rising from her thin skin, the cloth of her sleeves slowly rubbing the fabric of her attire and her eyes meeting his intensely. It was the first time in that feast their eyes met that way, so sincerely. Oberyn hoped to at least have some sort of amicable relationship with her, for the physical attraction was fully gone despite her beauty. His fingers caressed her cheek, feeling the softness from her face. The wine may have poisoned him, but he felt the urge to touch her, gently as he is doing to her.

The prince was raging inside, also. He was adamant she was not right for him, more than ever. Oberyn remembered her panic to his touch, her refusal to believe in pleasure, her constant punishment for feeling, her iminent silence. To live to perform a duty was something he always knew he was meant for. Growing up, he always imagined his mother would pass the throne to Elia if he rebelled, Oberyn hated to be the centre of attention, he abominated the concept of marriage and distasted even more the fact being tricked into this marriage with Melara. What else would he do? Wine seemed to be a good alternative to escape reality.

And he drank wine.

Glass after glass.

Uncountable jars of Dornish Red.

Melara appeared to be worried seeing the large amount of wine he ingested. “Husband, are you alright?”

Oberyn looked at her, numb. “I am alright. No need to worry.”

He was alright. Oberyn had a high tolerance for liquor and was accustomed to ingesting wine on a regular basis every day. That night, all the wine in the world was insufficient for him and he was nearly close to feeling high and numb, only. 

“I fear you have been drinking too much.” She muttered, scared he would be angry at her words.

Oberyn got silent for a moment and looked at her. “Very well,” he put the glass over the table and respected her wishes. “I shall stop for you. You have a fair point, my lady.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Melara lowered her eyes and her fingertips traced the hem of his attire’s sleeve, clumsily. His eyes noticed quietly her moves and he intertwined his finger around hers, delicately. The hours passed swiftly, the music was loud and the courtyard danced as they entered in the deep points of the night. Oberyn chose to not drink anymore as Melara requested and little by little, he gained back his senses. Melara, on the other hand, appeared to be overwhelmed by so many stimuli from the feast, which could only mean it was time for one thing.

“Go to our chambers and fetch your handmaidens to bathe and prepare you. I will be there in an hour.” He softly commanded, whispering in her ear. The thin hair of her skin creeped to the closeness and she opened her mouth, trying to catch some air to recompose herself. Oberyn tried to convince himself it would be only that night and fortunately he would put a babe on her womb, leave her be in peace and he would keep pursuing his life the way he was most pleased.

“Yes, husband.” Melara obeyed him and headed to her chambers with her head facing the floor, nervously digging her fingers on the embroidery of her dress. The prince watched Melara leaving with Melessa, Lys and Megga until they faded from his sight. Oberyn would never allow the savagery of a bedding ceremony with Melara, his wife deserved to be respected and more ashamed in her first night. He was tired of all that feast as well, but he promised to wait for an hour so she could get ready for him and so he did, patiently expecting the hour to pass as soon as possible. 

The guests were more than drunk and he envied all of them for being happier than him in his own wedding. When the time had arrived, he paid his goodbyes to his mother and the Hightowers and exited the Great Hall, heading to what would be their new private quarters. Bedding her was a prospect that initially made him aroused, now made him feel nothing but an insistent feeling of guilt for being away from the person he wanted, to know he desired so much that his head desired even the forbidden ones. He realised he didn’t want Melara, but the idea of conquering her, unravelling her deepest secrets and desires. What is the joy of conquering someone who was delivered for him like a roasted pork with an apple in his mouth, only waiting to be eaten? 

The room was bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight. The sound of a distant song rumbled, a symphony of words and accelerated steps that seemed to mirror the fast speed beating within Oberyn's heart. 

“Husband.” Melara said, standing up for him. Oberyn had to stop for a moment to admire his spouse in the nightgown he chose for her. It was a white, transparent silk. It disappeared in her skin and slightly made her nipples visible through the fabric. Her hair was loose like a cascade of silver and her eyes screamed anxiety.

“Wife.” He replied, slowly coming closer to the blonde. An awkward silence reigned between them, Oberyn scrutinised her body, inch by inch and Melara joined her hands, ashamed. That is when he realised she could be waiting for his commands. “I believe I made a fool of myself for not pointing out how splendid you look, my lady.” He commented. 

“Thank you.” She replied, twirling her shift.

“I only spoke the truth, Melara.” Oberyn walked towards her and poured two goblets of wine.

“Are you nervous, my lady?” He said, stopping right in front of her. Melara just nodded in silence. “Drink with me.” He commands. Gently, Melara got one goblet for her and Oberyn did the same for himself. Both drank in silence for a while.

Oberyn leaned his forehead on hers, grabbing her hand delicately and kissing her cheeks. “Do you consent me to fuck you?” Her cheeks burned red in shame. “You do have the option to deny me, my lady.”

Melara joined her fingers with his and looked into his eyes, biting her lips. “You may go on, Ser.” 

Oberyn smirked and caressed her jawline, brushing her skin with caution. “Stop this nonsense of calling me ‘Ser’ once more.” Melara stood still, closing her eyes and just received his touches on her face. “Sorry, husband.” His free hand reached her hair, pulling it behind carefully so he could see her breasts through the night dress, he found them to be small and beautiful. His cock already throbbed inside his pants, eager to bury himself on her, but he would be careful. “Much better, princess.”

“I will not force myself on you,” He whispered in her ear. “If you can’t handle it, tell me and I will stop immediately. Is that understood?”

Melara agreed in silence. “Yes, husband.”

Oberyn smiled mischievously feeling the shivering of her skin against the heat of his. His hand was almost cupping one of her teats, but he stopped and took a few steps back.

“Did I do something to displease you?” She asked, biting her lips. 

“No, my lady.” He came closer to her once more. “It's just that I… we have the same age, you and I. But when it comes to experiences,” He opened his belt and opened his attire, leaving his chest on display. “I am far more expert than you when it comes to fucking. I will teach you a few things tonight, sweetling.”

Melara heavily sighed and shaked her head. “I want you to touch me first, Melara. Do you want this?”

The girl blinked her eyes repeatedly, with her cloddish hands she took off his robe, revealing his muscles and scars. Her gaze lingered on his bust, stirring the tip of her fingers along his sun kissed skin. Suddenly, she kissed his neck and he felt a rush that made his blood boil with a simple contact. Maybe her naivety was still very enticing to him. 

“Have you ever touched someone like this, wife?” He questioned her, inert in front of her. Oberyn did not even mind that she was lacking facial expressions that moment, her attitudes were clearly speaking louder. 

“Never.” She murmured, anxiously. His hands cupped her face, bringing it close to his carefully and joining their lips together on a subtle kiss. Oberyn touched her hips and kissed her on her pace, lightly squeezing her waist with one hand and burying his other hand on the golden curls.

“Do you want more?” He asked after breaking the kiss. Melara consented and faced him, waiting for more. He was afraid she would be retreated but her demeanour was surprisingly exciting. 

“Do you wish to be touched?” Oberyn roamed her, stopping behind her back and moving her hair to her front, revealing her bare back to him. He noticed she had some faint bruises on her back and touched it with her fingers. Who could ever do this to such a lady? He felt a wave of tension seeing so many bruises on her back. “Who did these bruises on you?”

Melara turned her face to face him, embarrassed. “If you are not pleased, I can cover it for you, Prince Oberyn.”

“I asked you a question.” He replied, in a cold manner.

Melara breathed heavily. “My… my Septa. At the Starry Sept.”

Oberyn was taken aback by her answer, but endured his posture. “Why did she do this to you?”

“Because I did some wrong things, husband.” Melara frowned and Oberyn furrowed his eyebrows and smirked, curious to know more about this. 

“What are the wrong things, my lady?” He asked, waiting for a torrid story, a mischievous secret.

“I was late for a lesson after a chore, husband.” Oberyn could not even hide his dissatisfaction once he heard her secret was something so silly as this. But could notice that she carried some sorrow in her voice speaking about this. 

“No one will hurt you ever again my lady. I swear it under the sight of the Gods. Old and new.” He said, grabbing her by the chin.

Melara had teary eyes whilst listening to his words. “Thank you, husband.” She replied. 

His fingers cleaned her tears falling down her eyes over her face and he kissed her forehead as a sign of protection. That girl did not deserve to suffer, why did she choose to be there after being spanked that way?

“Do you still wish to continue our bedding?” Oberyn asked, caressing her hair.

“Yes.” Melara abruptly replied and Oberyn passed his fingers over her right nipple, making her moan in a low tone. Oberyn smiled involuntarily.

“Very well.” He said, undoing his trousers in front of her. Melara could see the length of his cock hard for her, fully on display. She blushed with the vision she was having, but did not look away. “I will take off your clothes now. Is that acceptable?”

Melara looked at him, opening her mouth and closing a few times, mayhaps thinking about what she wanted to say. “No…”

“Then I will do as it pleases you, princess.” Melara stared at her cock and could not even blink with a mix of curiosity and fear. Her eyes met his once more, passively waiting for his commands. “Lay in bed, Melara.”

The now princess complied and laid in bed, laying her head on the pillow. Oberyn came after her and waited for his wife to be fully laid on the mattress so he could linger his admiration looks on her for one more moment. He laid on top of her, rubbing his cock against her thighs and kissing her neck. Her fingers dive into his skin while she stiffened her moans when he kissed her neck seductively. 

“Do not keep those moans inside your throat, my wife.” He panted. “I want to hear your sweet moans...”

Her leg bent in the bed, grinding against his naked thigh and her body squirmed under his, Melara let a moan leave her lips freely in that drift of sensations Oberyn was giving her. His hands were more desperate now, lifting her dress to squeeze her thighs. In the meanwhile, Melara felt Oberyn grinding his cock against her cunt with only that piece of clothing separating them. 

“I will taste you now, my wife.” He warned her and Melara looked slightly confused. Oberyn lowered his body and grabbed her left food, kissing it and little by little moving his lips further her cunt. Melara arched her head back in the pillow, holding the sheet of the bed. “Spread your legs for me, princess.” He pleaded, opening them with ease for Oberyn. Gently, he lifted a part of her dress and finally encountered the sea of her wetness, drowning himself in it lustfully. “You taste so sweet, my wife.” He hummed, tasting the sensible skin and Melara screamed to his special kiss. 

His tongue travelled her cunt, licking the curves of her organ and holding her legs, immobilising it. Melara whined and pulled his hair, squirming her body while her husband eated her out as if she was his last meal.

“Please, husband…” She whimpered and moaned. Oberyn kissed and suckled her bundle of nerves a bit deeper, licking her labia and alternating with gentle circles around her clit and making them both sweat.

“Please what, wife?” He asked, muffling his voice against her intimacy, his nose nudging her clit and adding some pressure to the moves, making Melara scream once more as he grunts against her aching core.

“That thing… is happening again… oh…” His speed increased and it lit his body up, circling his tongue on her swollen clit. His face was fully drowned with her wetness and his sweat, he wouldn’t go backwards now. He groaned and the sound coming out of his throat vibrated on her, making his cock leak a transparent liquid out of hunger for her. 

“Come for me, Melara.” He commanded. Her legs started shaking as her voice trembled and her body shuddered with his touch, exchanging his tongue going at full pace for his index massaging her sensitive spot on circular slow moves, driving Melara to complete madness. He raised his head and could see Melara looking at him with desperation, bouncing her hips on his face, craving for releasing her tension.

His index and middle finger masturbated her slowly, taking her to the edge. “Do you enjoy it, wife?”

Melara moaned and nodded eagerly. “Can I keep suckling your cunt?” He asked, teasing her whilst his fingers kept moving in circles.

“Please, do.” She pleaded and he laughed. Leaning his head back into her cunt with ease, cries filled up the room as Melara contorsed her body and screamed her husband’s name loudly, tensing her muscles as he insisted on not letting her go when she was climaxing on his mouth, leaving the couple extremely messy. Oberyn wiped up his face with a towel placed at the table and gently handed it to his wife, cleaning her sweat slowly while she heavily breathed, leaning her back on the headboard. Her golden curls were all over the place, her cheeks blushed out of heat and legs could not find strength to move.

“How did it felt?” Oberyn asked, carefully passing the towel on her face.

“I feel… tingling.” She panted and Oberyn chuckled.

“Are you ready to consummate our vows now?” He brushed his fingers, still wet with her juices on her rosy lips and she consented to him, ashamed.

“Will it hurt me?” She muttered, apprehensively laying back on the bed under Oberyn.The prince cupped her face carefully.

“I promised I would never hurt you, my lady.” Oberyn kissed her jawline sensually and gently grabbed her hands, kissing it too. Her eyes were locked on his and her legs parted soon with Oberyn positioning his cock on her entrance.

His eyes fluttered with lust, leisurely making his way inside her walls. Melara was wet, but shed a few tears due to the discomfort she was feeling. But Oberyn would not go back, he wanted her to feel respected and listened. Oberyn felt her body get tense underneath him and she could not bear to look at him that moment, which made him stop for a while. 

“Do you want me to stop, my lady?” He asked, tracing his fingers over her face.

Melara wiped her tears and sighed. “No, we must fulfil our duty.”

“This is not a duty, my lady,” Oberyn went back pushing himself inside her. “This is pleasure.”

With tender moves, he moved his hips back and forth on Melara, so she would get used to it. Subtly, her hands caressed the back of her neck and some very low whimpers would allow him to keep moving forward.

His pace increased a bit once her hips bounced alongside his, in a sultry and synchronised dance. Oberyn groaned and pulled her hair, feeling the tightness of her warm privates, clenching around his cock, legs bare rubbing on his and nipples scuffing through her nightgown. It felt so mechanical to be with her that way but he knew he needed to be slow with her.

“Turn around.” He commanded, rolling her body and taking her from behind, cupping her breasts and kissing her neck. “Does it feel good, wife?” He murmured between the desperate moves.

Melara tried to support her body on her two arms while he invaded her, pulling her hair softly and pushing inside a bit harshly. Melara looked at him, consenting silently. “Use your words, Melara.” He demanded.

“Y-yes.” She replied between the sound of the collision of her arse against his pelvis. Melara was quiet under his touch, surprisingly. His thrusts became a bit more violent now, but he could not stop, his cock was so hard it could tear her in half. Oberyn felt a rush, wave after wave as his cock went in and out of her core, squeezing her hips each time he would feel his cock throb inside of her. “I’m close…” His lips warned as his pace increased the speed on a higher level, making Melara leave some quiet sobs. He was in a full state of mind to care about anything at that moment. 

Sweat ran down his face and wet his hair, His moans were loud enough for her to hear, the grip on her hips was strong and his penis twitched inside of her, giving signs of his upcoming release and then finally, his body exploded like someone had thrown him at a wildfire explosion.

His seed spilled inside of her, reaching the deepest of her walls he could. Feeling the aftershocks of that exhilarating moment, his body fell beside hers, exhausted from all that action. Oberyn breathed frantically and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recompose his body after that. “Are you alright, my lady?” He turned to see her, but noticed she whispered a few words, trying to make as little noise as possible. 

“Oh… I am..,” She replied, blushing.

“What are you doing, if I may be so bold to ask?” Oberyn questioned, narrowing his eyes.

“Praying.” Melara replied, with a distant trace of embarrassment in front of him. Oberyn wanted to laugh but his lady wife seemed to be very real at her purpose. 

“Praying?” He repeated her, trying to assure it was what he actually heard.

“Yes. Husband…” She tried to speak, but Oberyn cut her.

“My lady, did I hurt you? Was I too forceful?” The prince asked, concerned.

“No, husband.” Melara started to fiddle her fingers again. “Is just that… it does not feel proper for a lady. For a couple.”

“What would not feel right, my lady?”

“To commit the sins we just committed.” She replied and now Oberyn could not hold his laughter.

“The sin of taking my wife’s maidenhood?” He asked, indignant. 

“The sin of using our marital duties to indulge ourselves, husband. Bedding is to produce heirs, not to feel… those things.”

“Well, you appeared to be taking a great deal of pleasure, my lady.” He teased her. “I am afraid you will have to recite too many prayers.”

“I know,” She said, nervously letting a tear fall from her eyes and Oberyn stopped laughing at her. “The Gods will punish me for being like this.”

Her body shrunk in bed and his heart shattered to pieces seeing her that way. “Please, the next time you bed me, do not do those things to me. Ever again.” Melara pleaded, crying silently over the bed. 

Oberyn was taken aback by her request, because he enjoyed the lovemaking and hoped to at least grow fond of his lady wife. She returned to bore him to bits again. 

“My lady, you need to understand that you are no longer a Septa. You are my wife and I am  your husband.”

Melara had no response but to sit in the bed. “I hold no affection for you Melara. You are not the bride I chose, but you seemed to be enjoying it. Were you pretending it all?”

“No…” She replied, wiping her tears.

“Then why do you change your feelings so swiftly?” Oberyn asked, concerned. ”I promised to never hurt you, I swore you an oath and I take it seriously. But I need you to be honest to me.”

“I just… things changed too fast. This is too much for me to bear, Oberyn. But I will do as you command.” Oberyn had her submissive personality as a pathetic trait, but having her so undressed of all her shame in front of him made him at least feel that initial empathy he had for her on the day they met. Perhaps she was not his ideal woman, he would not see her as an equal but Oberyn never intended to hurt her or offend her honour. 

“Then I suggest we find a middle ground for us.” 

Melara narrowed her eyes. “What do you suggest?”

He grabbed her hand, gently. “We are tied to each other, but we can find our happiness. You leave me free to pursue my lovers and I leave you in the Water Gardens. We will encounter ourselves to produce our babies and we’ll have as many as you desire, my only request is that we have at least two children. We do not share the same bed, but I will pay my visits to you so we get acquainted.”

She nodded silently, lowering her head. “I suppose it is acceptable.”

Oberyn brushed his index on her jawline and smiled at his wife. “You and I don’t need to hate ourselves.”

Melara smiled at him for the first time. Not the coy smile he spotted her giving to prince Rhaegar or the shy one she gave to his mother, but a very sincere one. He had to admit she was stunning, even with the mess on her face. Elia was vivid in his mind, but after having that conversation something changed. Melara seemed to be more human to his eyes. It could be the beginning of some cordial relationship for him. All he needed to know is if Melara is willing to cooperate with him too.