#why does security leave 2 hours before closing

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 9: Soap’s Date

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Soap x Reader (+ Ghost), sex on the exterior, lots of butt stuff, oral sex, anal sex, phone sex, Soap being an absolute mutt as usual, voyeurism. I think that's it.

“Tell me again, Johnny.” You say yawning, looking back at Johnny as he finishes getting everything in the car. “Why are we leaving so early? The sun is not even out.”

“Because, mo ghraidh, I only have a day with you for myself alone.” He says once he has secured everything, he closes the boot and opens the driver's side door to sit down behind the steering wheel before he keeps talking. “And we have already wasted 4 hours.”

“I wouldn't call it waste, you know? Taking into consideration humans are supposed to sleep 8 of them.” You say chuckling when you see him pout and you move your arm over his seat to rest your forearm on his shoulder and caress the back of his head. 

“Do you no longer love me, bonnie?” He asks, dramatically sighing and covering his eyes with a hand. 

You playfully slap his shoulder. “If the military ever fails you should pursue a career in acting, Johnny.”

“Will you be my date when I get my second Oscar?” He asks, completely dropping the act of being sad to look at you smiling.

“Your second?” You ask chuckling.

“Yeah, sorry, I already promised my first to Gaz.” He admits, making you laugh out loud. 

“Fine, fine. Second Oscar for me then, got it.” You say smiling, taking your arm back to fasten your seatbelt when Soap does the same.

The sun is just starting to rise by the time he turns off the engine at the top of the cliff. 

“What you think?” He asks, smiling when you lean down resting on the dashboard to see more clearly. 

“Almost as pretty as you, Johnny.” You say cheeky winking at him.

“Hey, you stole my line!” He complains, a little pink blush on the top of his cheeks. He opens his door to get out making you chuckle at his escape attempt. 

You try to open your door, setting a foot outside just to be pushed back inside by a hand on your face. Once you are back inside he closes the door, waits a second and opens it back again holding a hand for you 

“Oh, my. Such a gentleman, Johnny.” You say sarcastically making him chuckle. 

“I know, right?” He says with a boyish smile that makes you want to squish his face. 

You finally step out, letting him close the door behind you. He goes to the back, opens the boot and hands you the bag with food so he can take the tent out. 

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to sleep in the car?” You ask, seeing him pick up everything else.

“To sleep maybe, but to do to you what I'm planning to do… the tent is better.” He says, winking at you and making you blush this time. 

“Oh, wait, what you said yesterday…” you trail off.

“I meant it.” He says chuckling. “As long as you want, of course.”

“Yeah, no, that's not it…” you say, a nervous feeling bubbling up in your stomach. He quickly catches it, dropping everything on the floor and walking up to you, cupping your face with his hands and kissing you softly. “Don't worry your pretty head about the bureaucracy, love. I'll make sure to eat you out long, and sweet, and nicely.” He says between kisses making you melt in his hands. “And I'll make you cum again, and again, and again. I'll get all soft and needy, by the time I get my dick in your tight little ass you'll be such a mess the only thing you'll be able to think it's about how good it feels.” He says, looking at your eyes. “Sounds good?” He asks, and you quickly nod as if you couldn't feel your panties starting to get moist. “Perfect, let's get everything set.”

He pats your head with a kiss to your forehead and picks everything back up, turning around the car to where he wants to set the tent and you are left stunned for a moment before you pick yourself up and walk after him.

He sets up the tent with ease, giving you orders to help him when a second person is needed (not that he couldn't set it on his own, he could easily. But he uses it as an excuse to walk behind you, grinding against you as he does; his hand travelling up and down your body) and by the time the tent is ready and everything is tidy; you are already an absolute mess. Grumpy with need and bothered by his apparent lack of effect.

“What has your knickers on a twist, bonnie lass?” He asks, chuckling when he sees your arms crossed.

“You!” You say simply, sitting down on the mattress. 

“Me?” He asks smiling, laying down next to you propping his head on his flexed arm. “Or the thought of me fucking you silly, mo ghraidh?”

“Johnny!” You exclaim, trying to slap his chest but he catches your hand pulling you on top of him. “Don't be nasty…”

“Oh, love. Don't play coy on me now, I know you love it when I speak pure filth to you.” He says, his hand pulling your leg up so you are resting closer to his face. “Am I wrong?”

You advert his gaze, looking at his hand on your thigh. “I don't know what you are talking about…”

He laughs, shaking you with him. “You are a smart girl to try that with me, if you tried that with Price he would have you crying already for spanking you like a brat, you know?”

“You sound like you are speaking from experience, Johnny boy.” You joke smiling looking at him, thinking he is just bluffing.

“Oh, I do.” He answers right away, smiling at the memory. You look at him with an eyebrow raised, the mental image of Soap lying on Price's lap getting his ass beat is interesting if anything. “Ha… you wanna see it, don’t cha, nasty girl?”

“You know what? I may get you in trouble just to see it.” You joke, saying it only to get a raise out of him. 

“Keep being naughty, and I'll be the lucky one seeing it.” He says, grabbing a handful of your asscheek and gripping it hard until you whine about it. Feeling as if you just got slapped on the ass without the kinkiness of it. “Take off your clothes, love.”

It takes you by surprise the sudden change in action. “Like that? Just… straight at it?” You ask, a bit dumbfounded.

“Well, we can go on a hike if you prefer it.” He says chuckling when you put a disgusted expression on your face. “Then get naked.”

You oblige, trying to keep the facade of mild annoyance, while he takes his clothes to sit down and you can't help but stare at his jet to get hard dick. 

“You are not even turned on, Johnny.” You say, looking at him with a smirk. “Need a hand?”

“Oh, no, don't even worry about it, love. It's just a matter of time, and the earliest I get my mouth on you the earlier it'll get hard.” He says smiling, his hands pulling you closer and down on your stomach on the mattress. 

“Wait.” You say, propping yourself on your elbow to look back at him. He raises his eyes that were looking at your naked ass to look at your face with a worried expression. “If I don't…”

“If you don't like it.” He cuts you off, leaning forward close to your face. “I stop. If you don't like the ass attention but want to keep going I'll humbly go apeshit crazy on your godly cunt and if you simply are not in the mood for action, I'll go behind a tree and fuck my fist like a monkey.” He says, exaggerating his choice of words to make you smile; you cup his face when he gives you a peck looking into your eyes for reassurance. “Alright, love? Talk to me, alright? I'll have my mouth busy, not my ears.” He jokes, taking away the little nervousness left on your body. “Get your ass up, on your knees. I want to taste that delightful cunt of yours, love.”

You smile, softly slapping his face with playfulness and get on your hands and knees, bending down and crossing your arms to rest your head on them; arching your back leaving Soap the full view of your cunt and ass when you slightly spread your legs. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, birdie. What kind of ring do you want? I'll buy it for you tomorrow, you just gotta ask.” He mumbles, feeling his breath getting closer and closer to your wetness. A sigh escapes your mouth when you feel his tongue go flat from your mount up to your ass leaving a kiss on the small of your back at the end. “Fucking delicious, bonnie.”

He does again, and again, and again; you look between your legs and you see a glob of your arousal mixed with his spit stretching down from your cunt right onto the tip of his hardening tip making him grunt at the same time you moan because of the filth of the image. 

He plants both his hands on your ass, spreading it to have better access to your crying cunt; shoving his face against it but still delightfully slow. It catches you by surprise the calmness with which he is doing it, it is still by no way methodical, but it is not as chaotic as you expected. It's slow, tongue hard against your fold making you feel every twitch of the muscle and groans that leave his throat which accompanied by the way he’s thrusting the air unconsciously makes you wonder who is enjoying more. You feel your orgasm approach, surprising you again, there has not been an increase in the speed or a change of focus from him. Just lazy swipes of his tongue on your cunt up to your asshole, but you shudder when you come; ecstasy flooding your nerves and making you moan his name. But it's not the kind of orgasm that leaves you shaking and silly-minded, is the type that makes you move your hips back looking for more, angry at the betrayal of your body for coming so fast.

“That's a good fucking girl.” Soap groans against your pussy and you hear the smile on his voice. “Thank you for coming so fast, dear. I couldn't wait to get my tongue inside your ass.” He says, biting down on your asscheek making you whine. 

He moves back, sitting down between your legs and he moves his hands under your body pulling you back against his face before he licks right on your hole. You moan at the feeling, the nastiness of it all only fueling the pleasure. “Ghost is going to be so fucking jealous I get your arse all for myself, birdie. You have no idea.” 

“Fuck, Johnny…” you moan, pussy throbbing at the lack of attention. You try to reach it with your hand, needing to feel something inside. 

“Now, what in the hell do you think you are doing?” He asks, annoyance in his voice when he slaps your hand, your pussy getting slapped in the process as well making you hiss. “Are you so greedy you can't even let me get my fair share of your ass? You just came, birdie. You just can't simply wait to get stuffed, right?” 

You whine, too embarrassed to admit it but horny enough to push your ass back against him. He lands a hard smack on your ass making you cry, grabs both of your hands making you rest your body weight on your face when he moves them both behind your back and dives back on your ass making you moan.

He has you bent almost in half, your thigh pressed against your chest squishing your tits which Soap takes to his advantage when he starts to thrust forward rubbing his tip between them almost edging himself with the light touch. 

He groans against your asshole, the tip on his tongue probing again and again, slowly but surely getting deeper until you feel his teeth on your skin, tongue as deep as possible making your eyes roll back when he moves it in and out, thrusting his tongue onto your ass. 

His tip pouring a droplet of precum down between your tits up to your neck like a delicate necklace and you twist your wrist needing to grab his hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours, and if the situation was different you would laugh at how it feels more intimate to feel his hand on yours than to feel his tongue inside of you. 

You are a babbling mess by the time he decides he has had enough, mind so blurry you can't even tell if you came again. He ate your pussy as if he was kissing it, soft, gentle and calm. But at some point after that, when your ass got into the mix, it changed into a Soap with almost a primal need to get as deep as possible inside of you. 

He lays you on your stomach, still not letting go of your hands. You hear him look for something in the bags, and he drops it beside your head a second later. You turn your head to the side and you see what he found; a bottle of lube and his phone currently on a call. 

“Who-” You question get cut off by a gasp when you feel Soap's tip rub your clit.

“Pickup, c’mon, pickup, pickup, pickup.” You hear Soap mumble over you, the ringing of the call still going. 

“What, Johnny?” The unmistakable sound of Ghost's voice erupts from the phone and you furrow your eyebrows.

“Fucking finally, Lt. Look out the window, now.” The scotsman orders, which makes the mancunian chuckle at the desperation. 

“Johnny, what are you-” Your question gets cut off by a moan that could easily classify as a scream when Soap bottoms out inside of your cunt in one swift thrust. The stretch making little white dots appear on your vision and you damn well if you were not dripping with arousal he would have broken you in two. 

“Oh, hi, birdie. I see you are having fun.” Ghost says chuckling. “Go easy on her, Johnny.”

“I can't…” Soap mumbles, his head resting on top of yours. “So fucking tight, I just know her ass is going to choke my dick so nice.” 

The two men talk about you as if you were not even there, the stinging sensation quickly dissipates when he starts to thrust; slowly as if asking for forgiveness for his lack of control just a moment ago. 

Soap bends down, moving a hand under your jaw to pick your head up. “Look at the window, birdie.” He says. You are completely confused for a second, barely able to see the building in the distance, let alone a window. “Do it, Ghost.” 

In that second, an almost missable flint of lights appears on one of the windows catching your attention. “Do you see me, birdie?” Ghost asks through the phone. “Because I can see you.”

Soap groans over you. “Oh, she sees you, Lt.” He chuckles. “And by the way she's clenching. She likes it.”

“Aww, does our little bird like to be watched?” Ghost coos, amusement in his voice. 

“Hmm, ‘s you.” You mumble between moans, struggling to articulate the words.

“What is it, love?” Soap asks, bending down to kiss your shoulder as his hips slowly stop to let you talk.

“I like it… cause is you…” You half whine, embarrassed to say it more clearly. But it is more than enough for Ghost, who feels his heart and dick throb at the declaration. 

“Johnny.” He groans.

“Yes, Lt?” Soap answers, same struggle as you.

“Do me a favour… fuck her nice… and turn on the camera.”

“Gladly, sir” He says straightening himself, picking up the phone and the lube on his way. He turns the camera on, pointing it to where the two of you are connected; opens up the lube bottle before dropping a blob over your asshole.

“I bet you wish this was you, ah?” Johnny smiles as he teases Ghost, his thumb pressing down on your hole slowly before entering with ease thanks to the lube and the fact you are already fucked out of your mind. 

You moan softly when he does, pressing his finger down against the thin wall between his finger and his dick that is still inside of you. He grabs your asscheek, thumb still inside, spreading you for Ghost to see. 

“You are a bloody lucky bastard, Johnny.” You hear Ghost groan, sounds of clothes being moved around can be heard from the phone. “But don't test it.”

He removes the thumb, getting his index in instead; moving it in when he moves his dick back, and the finger out when he moves his dick in. It's such an alien feeling, the stinging from the stretch long gone and replaced with the arousal of his finger and dick moving in and out.

“Hold the phone for me, love.” Soap says before changing the camera to front view, you hold it over your shoulder letting Ghost see the way Soap is working you open on his fingers. 

Soap grabs the lube again, spurring it over his finger generously before adding a second one; the phone shaking on your phone when you moan at the stretch. He scissors his fingers opening you up, his dick still moving slowly inside of your drenched cunt; more to keep your mind busy with pleasure than for his own. 

There is something so filthy about the whole ordeal, doing something “prohibited”, the sound of Soap shaking the lube bottle, the sound of the lube being squished onto your body, the sound of his fingers fucking it inside of you, the sound of your pussy sucking his dick in. 

He takes his time, making sure you are stretched nicely and loose, wanting to make you feel nothing but pleasure when he finally fucks you. It takes him four fingers inside of you to feel like you are ready for him. By that time, you are an absolute mess; using every bit of strength left to hold the phone. 

And your mind can't help but wonder about how it would be if Ghost was also in the tent, if Soap was not opening you up for himself but for his lieutenant. How it would be to be in between the two men.

“Johnny…” you moan, desperate for more. “Please…”

“Sshhh, birdie.” He shushes you when you cry for him. “I know, baby, I know.” He bends down, kissing your back and slowly taking his fingers out. “I'm gonna do it slowly, alright? Don't hold your breath, just relax.”

You nod eagerly, needy of the feeling of his hips hitting yours. Johnny moves your hand with the phone, holding it down so he can see your face on the screen when he fucks you. 

And when his tip catches your puffy hole, your eyes close and your jaw falls open leaving your mouth in an o shape. But you do just as he said, relaxed taking deep breaths as you feel the man split you open. 

“C’mon, bonnie lass. Let me in.” Soap grunts in your ear when you clench down out of pleasure. He kisses your neck, under your ear, making your eyes roll as you bite your lips; relaxing and allowing him to keep pushing his hips. 

Mumbles can be heard from the phone, the man struggling to stay quiet at the sight of his lovers getting their brains fuck out together. He has had his dick out for a while now in the solitude of his office, not wanting to touch it leaving it red and angry. But the sounds of your and Soap's moan in harmony is enough to have him fisting his dick, squeezing his tip, milking the firsts bead of precum out of it.

Soap thrust shallowly, wanting to move but hating the thought of leaving your warm body. You can feel him drool on your shoulder blade and you would make fun of him if you weren't on the same train. 

“Let me see it, Johnny.” Ghost grunts, the sound of spitting in the background of the call.

Soap whines, hating his devotion to the british man that makes his body move before he can acknowledge it. He holds your thigh raising it and turning you to lay on your side with a leg in the air and Soap lying behind you. He picks the phone from your hand, resting it on the lube bottle so Ghost can see the way he fucks you and both their faces at the same time. 

Ghost groans at the sight, his fist moving faster; the image on the phone shaky with the speed at which he fucks his hand. But the way you moan when Soap begins to thrust inside and out of you is enough to have Ghost pull his head back with a groan. 

Soap sees the way you furrow your eyebrows, such an exquisite feeling but still needing the extra stimulation of a hand on your clit. And you have been such a good girl? How can he not obey your needs when you have been so good? 

So he uses his lubed hand, trapped under your body, and moves it down to rest on your puffy clit, rubbing circles on it. Slowly at first, just as his thrusts; rising up the speed of both at the same time. 

It has you curling your toes, moaning his name to the cliff just outside the tent. He locks his arm under your knee, pulling it closer leaving you even more exposed and he starts to kiss your body. On your knee, your thigh, your temple, your cheek. He can barely do it, just smearing his spit-covered lips over your body leaving a sticky trail of saliva over you; whining when he can’t manage to kiss you on your lips fast enough. 

Ghost is edging himself, he knows it, he's slouched on the chair; having slipped down on it when thrusting up to his fist. His feet hurt with the way they are arched to keep him seated and his elbow is in an awkward position under the armrest. Still, his hand is moving so fast is just a blurry image and he knows that the moment either of you comes he'll follow.

So when he finally hears you moan, loudly enough that if he wasn't on a phone call he would have heard it from the window, making Soap grunt as he bites down on your shoulder as he comes as well deep inside of you. Ghost can't help it but to moan, throwing his head back, phone falling on his chest as he needs the extra hand not to fall from the chair as he cums over his hand and onto his abdomen. Phone rising with his breath, finally seeing the way your legs shake after you cum; Soap letting your leg down to rest and hugging you tightly against him as he kisses your face. Smiling when he sees you melt into his arms, and the two of you look like cats grooming each other. 

“Thank you for calling, Johnny. Enjoy your date, birdie.” He says, still breathing hard before hanging up, struggling to find the energy to clean up and get back to work. 

“You did so good, birdie.” Soap says, kissing your cheek. “Did you like it, lovie?”

You nod, unable to speak with your eyes unfocused on the ceiling of the tent. “Yeah… yeah I did…”

He chuckles behind you, kissing you again and again, his softening cock still inside of you and with no plan of leaving. 

It turns into a comfortable silence, enjoying each other warmth. You look up to him, smiling when you see him look down at you with a stupid smile on his face. You cup his face, smiling fondly when he leans into the touch. “Johnny…” you call, only getting a “hm?” as an answer. “Is it weird if I think I'm starting to fall in love with you guys?” You say, before realising you have just declared your feeling to most likely the worst of them to do so. Especially when you see his face shine in mischievousness, he laughs loudly before crushing you in a bear hug that has you ready to hear a bone pop. 

“AW, BIRDIE, I CAN'T WAIT TO TELL EVERYONE YOU LOVE ME THE MOST!”

“JOHNNY, THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAI-”

Your attempt to defend yourself gets crushed when Soap kisses you harshly, making you whine and letting his tongue inside of your mouth. It is not much longer before you feel his dick get back ready into action, and let's just say you were really glad that Soap packed isotonic drinks for when you are finished that day.

Hi, my lovelies!! 💗💗💗

How have you been?

I already have the next one written, hehe. My plan is to write the rest and post it as I go, maybe work on some requests. Those of you waiting for Spidey and the new series, please just be as patient as you have been for this one it really means a lot to me ❤️

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[biscuitsngravie]

gangsta fairytale (shanks x reader)

cw/tw: mafia/gang setting, age gap (shanks 39, reader 22), fem reader, kidnapping (brief), not exactly a sugar daddy but he we love extravagant flauntings of wealth & financial security, smut lol, piv sex, size kink (he’s 6’6 like cmon LMAO), exhibitionism, we cum inside cause its fun inside, breeding kink, dacryphillia, nickname for reader is “buttercup, and pretty girl” unprotected sex, slightly public sex? Smol mention, belly bulge

part 2 -- part 3

At a club on a thursday night cause you wanted to go, but your friends aren’t free till the weekend and you couldn’t wait. But of course that means it’s mostly a sausage party even tho girls get in free before ten cause it’s still a thursday. And every sausage in the party wants your attention

You’re at the bar nursing a drink wondering why you even came and start debating to leave when a very not sleezy looking guy comes up to you and asks “you wanna know my favorite number?” right before leaning way too close to whisper in your ear “69” before you can even turn to scowl at him

Shanks who grabs the hand that’s about to grab your waist (unbeknownst to you) and leans down to ask the guy “you wanna know my favorite number?” his voice is so heavy you can feel the vibration in your own chest despite the blaring music. You turn around to see an absolute tree of a man and you don’t know if your fight or flight or fuck is kicking in

The guy scurries off cause like….its fucking shanks

Instead of being a bigger fish to outsleeze the guy he asks if you’re alright. You just kinda nod and give a half-assed “yeah” with your eyes mostly down and away from him. He just nods back and taps the bar as he gets ready to leave going “well be safe out here” and it’s that that has you asking him to stay. You insist you wanna buy him a drink and it’s not too hard to convince him to stay for free alcohol so he does.

He compliments your fit casually and is your face warm? No, it’s the alcohol silly. You start talking about all the annoying guys here and how “uncouth” they are (he raises his eyebrows at that one) as you just complain about how “there’s piss in the dating pool.” you wonder if you’ll just have to find the “least shitty” person and settle with them

He starts talking less as you enter your tirade. Eyeing you down and going “well if you don’t mind hanging out with this old fart, i can show you how we did dating back in the day.” you try to give him your snapchat but he doesn’t have it and can’t work it even when you get him to download it, so you just give him your number instead

He tells you to shoot him a text that you got home safe and you think it’s cheesy but you do it anyway

The date is super nice, he takes you to this really nice cafe you’ve been meaning to go to. It’s kinda strange cause the menu doesn’t have prices so it’s hard to choose (being a college student and all) but he assures you he’ll cover the bill and to eat your heart out. After that he takes you on a ferry ride and talks about history on every part of the waterfront. It’s then that you find out he’s in love with the sea and the taste of adventure, but he’s (mostly) settled down nowadays. You hope you can go on an adventure with him one day

You two spend a lot of time talking together (you mostly about your classes and professor drama, him mostly about his adventures in his youth, it’s then that he tells you he’s 39) and spend the waning hours of daylight shoreside, and as the sun sets he maps out the stars for you

“Not to be too forward, but i’d love to steal more of your time.”

So you guys go on another date. And another. And an—

Part of you wonders if/when he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend, but you don’t wanna do the “what are we?” talk, so instead you do your best to enjoy whatever it is you do have. No matter how many times he grabs you by the chin to face him when you’re looking off into the distance asking “what’s up, buttercup?” you just give the same variation of nothing answers. He knows what you want, but he’s scared to give it to you cause of who he is. If only you knew.

You’re walking down the street one day and try to ignore the scurrying behind you. You knew you should’ve left the library earlier, as the days are getting shorter, but the project is due this friday and—

You can’t even scream properly since they cover your mouth first. Your keys are between your fingers, but they grabbed your wrists at the same time. You’re blindfolded and gagged, delicately (as possible) placed in the backseat of a car. They keep saying how perfect you are for their boss and a bag of rocks drops from your stomach to your ass 

They take you inside a building, up an elevator and blah blah blah, they take your blindfold off and “present” you to their…

“Shanks!”

“Watch your mouth!” one of them is about to smack you for the disrespect but shanks stops him with a raise of his hand and gives a sign to untie you. You run to him on his ridiculously fancy chair and hop in his arms crying about how these guys kidnapped you and were going to send you to some creep

He asks if you’re hurt, his frown lines pressed into his face as he realizes how bad you’re trembling. He holds you close when you look at him with tears in your eyes, wobbly lips, and a shaky voice saying you’re fine. 

If looks could kill, the pair would’ve been incinerated on the spot. But they can’t. So shanks sends them away for a more effective method. They’re never seen again.

It’s then that he says he tells you that he’s the boss. You don’t understand at first until he explains that he’s “inherited” the title since the passing of his father as the crowned prince of the organization

While you’re trying to process it, he explains that that’s why he never asked you to become official with him. That and he didn’t wanna “steal your youth” away from you. But after you beg to stay with him despite it all, he sighs and says he has to be a “real man and stop pussyfitting around.” you’re his girl, and he should’ve been man enough to admit it and take care of you like he should have

Yall are official now. :)

@honeeslust here ya go!

[wardenparker]

The Viper’s Bride - ch 5

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst​

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.  

Rating: E for Explicit  Word Count: 15.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid* A whole lot of nudity, reflections on poor sex education, internalized shame, Mom-frontation, absurd amounts of tension, we’re not even sorry, dialing up the yearning, anxiety, mentions of parental abuse, a whole heaping dose of inadequate communication. Summary: The day of King Joffrey and Lady Margaery’s wedding holds surprises for everyone. Notes: Y’all the WAY this chapter makes me cry. There is so much going on and the day is so intense to begin with. Keri really and truly out does herself with every step forward this quartet takes.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

The sun rise does not wake you, nor the sound of servants moving in and out of the room. The warmth and security of having Raeden's arm heavy on your waist has kept you deep in a blissful sleep more revitalizing than you have had in a very long time. Food has been laid and your trunks delivered from the Red Keep while you slept with your soulmate like a rock at your back, and it is not until the scent of freshly lit incense breaks through your dreams that you even have a sense of the world outside of your beautiful dreams.

The warm sun pours through the curtains that Leyth opens, and she hums to herself softly as she moves around the room. Prince Oberyn had given her specific instructions on waking the new princess and her lover gently and hanging the dress he had produced from his trunk, even making sure that the bath room would be emptied for you to have privacy. Though why you need privacy in a whorehouse makes no sense to her. It seems rather...precious. But she does not know your story.

The moment you stir, Raeden opens his eyes. He has spent the last hour awake, holding you close as you continued to dream. As a soldier, he is often up before the sun, training. This morning he had woken due to habit. For a split second believing that yesterday had been a dream until you had sighed softly and the weight of your body pressed against him registered. There were still noises from the chambers where the prince and his soulmate slept, this time it was softer, more intimate. Making him wonder at the paradoxical nature of the prince and if he had not been toying with you when he had said he was interested in a lowly soldier like him. A man who is reliant on his good graces for taking breath today. And why Ellaria’s eyes haunted him enough to dream of her last night.

Leyth catches the movement, smiling at the broad man in the bed and whispering when she sees you haven’t opened your eyes yet. “Meal is laid and so is her dress. When you are ready, Prince Oberyn has ordered the bathing room be emptied so she can have privacy.” That is all she came here to say, so she smiles once more at the handsome man and leaves, shutting the door gently behind her.

He’s grateful that the prince seems to accept your modesty, even if he might not share those same proclivities. His hand slides from his hold on you and he strokes your side softly. “Morning has come.” He murmurs softly, kissing your shoulder. “It is near a dream to wake up with you in my arms.”

“I thought I was dreaming still.” Rough with sleep, your voice is still soft as you open your eyes and turn to burrow into his side. The mix of dreams you had are still fresh in your mind’s eye, sleep barely receding enough to allow you to be present in this moment. “Did you sleep well, my love?”

“Better than ever.” He promises, smiling at your sleepy face. If he had stayed up late thinking on the sounds that had come from next door, it was nothing you needed to concern yourself with.

“Morning light becomes you.” Reaching up to kiss him in the sunlight that streams in through the windows, your fingers dance through the traces of stubble on his jaw and even the top of his head and you giggle to yourself. “Did I hear something about a bath?” He is meticulous about his appearance, and you know that on a day as important as the king’s wedding, you will both want to look your best.

“Your husband has arranged a private bath for you.” Raeden nods and leans in to steal a kiss. He wishes he could give you those things, give you everything you need, but he holds no power.

The sentence stings for a very different reason than it had yesterday, after spending a night dreaming about both men alternately. The guilt you carry for finding yourself attracted to the man you have already married is difficult to reconcile, and you wonder how angry Raeden would feel if he knew. Or worse, betrayed. “That…is kind of him.” You murmur finally, tucking in closer to Raeden’s side.

“It is.” Readen won’t deny that, and his eyes widen when he sees the gown that had been brought in for you. “Like the dress is…shockingly brief.”

“What do you…” Sitting up in bed, you find yourself face to face with a beautiful golden gown embroidered with elaborate flowers across the bodice and vines that extend down the skirt. The light material is silky and inviting, but the brief part of it is the sleeves that look as though they will simply dangle off your shoulders, and the deep dip in the front that would surely do everything in its power to highlight your breasts for any who might look. “It’s…exceptionally beautiful,” you admit, finding it to be stunning but a little shocking. You would never see the ladies of the Vale wearing anything so revealing. “It must be the fashion…in Dorne.”

“It is a most temperate climate from what I know of it.” He murmurs, wondering how jealous he will be with eyes on your skin. “Perhaps comfort is afforded over modesty?”

"Perhaps it will be more modest on the body than it seems to the eye." It is more intimidating than you would like to admit, to come to these changes all at once, but it is what you chose. A new gown is hardly a terrible price to pay for Raeden's safety. "Either way, it is what I will wear to the king's wedding. Dornish colors and Dornish fashion."

“You will be fit to cling to the Prince’s arm.” His own robes will be splendid as well, he will make sure to take great pains to shine his boots and his sword. “It will be a grand introduction to the new princess.”

"It will be a great shock to some." You can think of a half dozen names off the top of your head. "I only hope that Lady Margaery does not view it as an attempt to steal sunshine from her day. The last thing I wish is to offend a queen."

“I doubt she will view it as such a thing.” He assures you, turning and kissing your shoulder. “It is not like the prince announced your wedding and invited the kingdom.”

“Nor would I have wanted him to.” Turning your head, you plant two soft kisses on Raeden’s lips and smile. The moans and calls to gods and the prince himself are nearly at a crescendo – a sound with which you are now well acquainted. And that, you tell yourself, is the only reason you must have dreamt of him last night. “Let us break our fast and bathe, my love. Today is sure to be long and tiresome.”

Breakfast was far more elaborate than even you were used to. The brothel apparently sparing no expense to make sure that the prince was kept happy. Dates and fruits surround fresh bread and some eggs that were still steaming in their shells. All washed down with a mulled wine that was very pleasing to the palette. It was a meal unlike anything he had experienced before beyond last night.

The bathing room is at the other end of the not inconsiderably sized building, according to the man who escorted your trunks into your chamber last night. He was personable and handsome, like almost everyone else who seemed to do very well working in Baelish’s brothel. The arrival of your trunks with most of your belongings intact meant that you can wrap up in your dressing robe to walk to your bath this morning, a luxury you had not expected. In fact, most moments spent here seemed to be luxurious ones with the exception of the luxury of quiet.

Stepping into the room, Raeden is impressed with the size of the room. The tub is sunk into the middle of the floor, water already pouring into the large cavity from a pipe that comes from the kitchen – he can only assume – as steam swirls up. That is a luxury in itself, not using someone else’s water in a bath this size. The smell of incense and spices fills the air and makes him hum in approval.

“I admit, I had no idea a brothel would be a beautiful place.” Only ever having heard of them as places a lady should never go, you had assumed they would be as dank and unappealing as the men they attracted. As much as you dislike Lord Baelish, his establishment seems to be far above what you had imagined for this house of ill repute.

“I feel as if Baelish like to accommodate the lords that come to King’s Landing.” Raeden pulls off his undershirt and smirks when he sees the shaving tools set off to the side.

“So much the better for us, then.” Your robe joins his clothing on the tiled floor beside the bath and you slip into the steaming water, sighing at the way it relaxes you instantly. There are few things better in the world than a hot bath.

“It is good?” The washing cloths are to the side and Raeden lets you enjoy the warm water as he gathers the perfumed soaps and the cloths.

"It would be better with company." Waking with him has somehow only made you greedy for more time with him, and you admit that you are trying to wipe other thoughts from your mind. Seeing the gown that was left for you this morning now makes you wonder what the prince will be wearing to today's nuptials.

“Company you shall have.” The doors to the bathing room open and Oberyn and Ellaria stroll in, half naked and without a single care. The prince grins at you. “How was your wedding night, my dear?”

“My lord!” The shock of seeing them walk in so brazen and unashamedly has you attempting – and failing – to cover yourself with only your hands and the shrinking away of your body into the far corner of the bath as if the prince might have developed poor eyesight overnight. “You are—I—that is—what an unexpected visit.”

Oberyn tilts his head in confusion at your exclamation. “I had arranged for a private bath for us before the wedding.” He reminds you. “There is nothing that I have not seen before on either of you.” He hums, reaching over and helping Ellaria out of the thin, gossamer gown that concealed nothing.

“Forgive me. It must have…slipped my mind.” It is rude to stare, you know that it is, and yet the pair of them are so beautiful that it is difficult to tear your eyes away. And that certainly is not helping you remember whatever he might have said to you the night before about bathing together.

“Don’t tease, lover.” Ellaria pouts and turns to press her breasts against his chest. “She is not yet used to the way that you view nudity.” She turns towards you and Raeden with a sultry smile.

Caught in your own mix of utter confusion, the impulse to flee is incredibly strong and has you turning away from them to hide your face and body all at once. Even from Raeden. A naked body is a thing of shame, or so you were taught. Always to be covered and hidden away. Even sharing it with a lover or husband is a brazen act of licentiousness. It is unladylike. “Forgive me,” you manage to eek out again, not knowing what to do in this situation at all.

“Do not fret.” Oberyn has no shame as he drops his breeches, revealing every inch of his bare cock as it swings between his thighs. Flaccid, yet still impressive, he turns towards his new guard who is still in his own breeches. “Soon we will be comfortable with one another.”

“Is this…the accepted way…in Dorne?” If it is then you will have to make very large adjustments very quickly, and a knot of dread forms in the pit of your stomach.

“You will not be walking around Dorne for all to see.” He steps into the bath and turns around so he can help his lover into it, holding out his hand. “None but the servants and the people in this room will see you unless you take other lovers.” That might sting; if you were to reject being in his bed and take other men and women into yours.

“I cannot see that being a possibility.” Although Raeden is at your side, holding firmly onto your hand to be an anchor of comfort, the moment is nerve wracking only for you. The prince and Ellaria clearly are more interested than concerned, and Raeden’s years as a soldier have made him far less concerned with nudity in general. He may not examine the pair of lovers who have no intention of leaving, but he certainly is not offended by them. You squeeze his hand gently, hating to be the naive, sheltered child out of the four of you. At five-and-twenty, you have not been a child for many years.

“Do you not believe that love should be shared?” Oberyn asks curiously. “Pleasure is one of life’s greatest gifts, beyond children. Especially if the pleasure is creating them.” He chuckles, kissing his lover’s shoulder and glance at you from it. “Why limit yourself?”

“Your Grace, I was raised by a woman who deemed me a shameful harlot for sharing myself with the man that the gods themselves chose for me. And my father is a man who I do not believe ever touched her more than out of necessity or for her own manipulative ends.” Still clutching your own self, you swallow the moment of fear and turn halfway around in the bath. Enough to be able to see his face, at least. “Pleasure was not precisely a topic of conversation in my household. Even my brothers’ wives considered it unladylike to discuss.”

“Then allow yourself to ask any questions you may have.” He hums, picking up one of the cloths and dipping it into the water so he can slide it over Ellaria’s tits.

“It is not so much that I have questions.” Although you do. Desperately burning ones that you have felt too ashamed even to ask of Raeden. “But more that I wonder at how easily you can share yourself.” Realizing that that might not have sounded how you intend, you end up fostering immediately. “I—I mean it as an admiration,” you clarify, stumbling to explain. “You are very comfortable and free with yourselves. Both of you.”

Oberyn looks at you thoughtfully, sliding his hands up to cup Ellaria’s tits. “It does not take away from my appreciation of these tits to admire yours. Or her love of my cock when she is perched on another.” He explains. “We have our pleasures, separate at times, but most often together. And we find that it makes our own passions for each other that much sweeter.”

“Perhaps I am not enough of the world to understand.” An anxious glance to Raeden beside you does nothing to calm the riot in your mind, and you shake your head, ready to give up on it altogether. Attraction and love seem inexorably linked to you. Or they did, before you met the prince and his paramour.

“You will not be forced to join in on anything you do not wish to.” He squeezes his lover’s tits once more before he looks to Raeden. “Although I am curious as to your views on sex. Is your soulmate your only lover or have you had more?”

“There is not the judgement for bastards that there is for ladies, your Grace.” Though Raeden might not usually hide himself from the view of others, it is a different matter entirely when the others present are enticing to him, and try as he might there is no informing his cock that this is an inappropriate time to stand at attention. “There were others before her, but none since.”

“Good.” Oberyn approves of the idea that you had at least a moderately skilled lover. It is good that you might not be dealing with a man who does not satisfy you. “And do you make sure your soulmate is satisfied?”

“You would have to ask her for the most accurate answer.” It may be the most unconventional line of questioning he’s ever had from a noble, but somehow the part of him that is affronted that the prince would even ask is almost also glad of it? He gets the impression that if he were not satisfying you, Prince Oberyn would be disapproving. “But I believe I can rightfully boast that I am never satisfied until she is.”

“Very good.” Oberyn hums, nodding in agreement of his answer. “That is always the best when your lover is limp with pleasure and unable to cry out your name anymore.” He keeps his hands moving over Ellaria’s skin as he converses.

“With all respect to your meaning…crying out is not a luxury all of us have had.” Certainly before last night, you never had been safe enough with Raeden to do any such thing. He would have been punished severely for even touching you, and even in the beauty of spending last night with him, you never would have been as vocal as the men and women in the next room. You would not have known how. “That is…i—it is not the only way to show pleasure.”

“Even the softest moan of a name is a cry when a cock is filling you or a tongue fluttering against your clit.” Oberyn counters with a small smirk. “Your small whimpers are just as erotic, maybe more so, than the most skilled whore faking pleasure.”

“Your paramour agrees,” Ellaria smiles in her amused way, the one where mischief dances behind her eyes. “Or else he is very much enjoying something that he sees.”

“Yes, he does seem to be stimulated by the atmosphere.” Oberyn is also interested in the exceptional collection of bodies that are in the bathing room. His own reaction hidden by Ellaria’s body as he caresses and washes it. “I must wonder on what is causing it.”

Raeden’s complexion grays, embarrassed to have a condition he cannot control pointed out for all to witness. “It is only natural,” he insists, though the defense is quiet and he turns his back to the pair to retrieve the largest washing cloth he can find – as if that would be any help in hiding his condition.

“It is, there is no shame in it.” Oberyn insists as he sidesteps his paramour to reveal his own erection. “In fact, if you need to take care of it, we do not care if you fuck in the bath.”

The speed at which you avert your eyes is telling, but what it is that you’ve just revealed about yourself, you do not know. Instead it is Raeden who flusters and busies himself with becoming a human shield for you so that you can wash yourself. “She is innocent of such things.” He tells the prince with an edge of soft protection in his voice. As though your innocence is something very precious to him. “Such a thing would never have even crossed her mind.”

The hand that comes up to lay against his chest is soft, the only thing keeping him from sighing in disappointment. He had hoped that after the night, there would have been some thought on your part to the doors opened to you. “As you say.” He turns around so that you don’t have to see him and starts to wash himself.

"I—" Even hidden from view, your voice is just loud enough to be heard. Unsure, faltering more than slightly, you look up at Raeden and around his shoulder to find Ellaria still carefully watching. "It might..." Swallowing the fear that it might upset your soulmate, you have to admit that there are few things that you like more than being spoken for. Your mother would do it constantly – speak on your behalf – and to be out from under her thumb now should have meant you were free from it in private. "If it had not ever occurred to me before – to make love in full view of others – it certainly would have after hearing it." The fact that you also dreamt of it? That is more telling than anything.

Raeden’s eyes widen when he hears your words, a frown furrowing his brow and he reaches out to hold your shoulders. “My love, do not feel pressured to do anything.” He urges you softly.

"I feel no pressure," you promise him, laying your hand over his and squeezing it gently. As reassuring a gesture as such a small thing can be. "It is not something I may ever wish to engage in. But..." It takes more than a moment to gather your thoughts, and you end up sighing. "I want to understand," you say finally. "That is all."

"We are all a part of each other's lives now." Ellaria agrees, looking past Oberyn to offer you a smile. "Understanding is a noble goal."

For his part, Oberyn is impatient and thinks that it might be best to just send you away. But the yearning in your voice mixed with Ellaria’s immediate offer of comfort makes him hesitate. He turns around and stares at you. “Then we will seek to guide you to the answers.”

"I..." Raeden is looking at you as if you have grown a second head, but you look between the three other people in this room – in this one bath – and swallow fear once more. "I am sorry if having to guide me is a disappointment. But I doubt there is a book I could read on the subject."

“If there were such a book, my lover would possess it.” Ellaria assures you, making Oberyn chuckle.

“Forgive me, Princess.” He murmurs after a moment. “I am getting ahead of myself. I forget that you northerners are not raised with the freedoms that I have been afforded.”

"I may never be used to being called princess, and that is the simple end of things." His laugh is relieving, and you end up smiling in your own right. "I do not wish for any of us to be strangers. And if we are to be friends, then understanding is most necessary."

The problem is that he has already realized he does not just want to be your friend, he wants to fuck you. Oberyn wants to bring both you and your paramour into his bed to see how the dynamic would work. “Are you nervous for your entrance to the wedding?”

"Yes." That is not worth lying about, or being too proud to admit, since he will be right beside you and see your fear for himself. "Social grace has never been my greatest skill."

“If you prefer, you can just stay silent.” He hums, smirking slightly since that seems to be a skill you have not mastered despite your mother’s best efforts. “It will be shocking enough to have the Prince of Dorne escorting his wife and his paramour to a wedding.”

"I am afraid silence is not my forte, either." You shake your head, almost laughing at yourself. "Too curious for my own good, my eldest brother likes to say. And besides which, the future queen has...been very friendly to me. I fear keeping silent on such a day would offend her greatly."

“Then you will say what you say and damn whoever takes offense.” He shrugs one shoulder casually and leans back to wet his hair to wash. “You are a princess. Only two inside the seven kingdoms can truly tell you to be quiet.” He doesn’t add that it all depends on the day to determine if he would listen.

"I will endeavor to remember that." Raeden looks doubtful, though, and you urge him down with a hand on his shoulder so that you can kiss him. "It will do none of us any good to be rude, today, my love. I may not say much of anything of interest or importance, but you and the prince will both be there to make sure I do not stumble." Looking past him, you offer your unexpected ally a smile as well. "And Ellaria will be my guide for confidence. I am sure of that."

“You will be perfect.” She muses with a smile of her own. “Your dress will match my own and look splendid against Oberyn’s robes.”

You nod, glad to have Ellaria to bolster you, and set back to washing yourself as modestly and earnestly as possible. "It will be a day not soon to be forgotten."

******

“Do not fret and worry with it too much.” Ellaria murmurs to you as the carriage pulls up. “The more you do, the better chance you have at showing off your unmentionables.” You are very modest and have played with the low hem of the dress several times, drawing Oberyn’s and her own eyes to your breasts.

"I don't think I have ever worn anything as elegant. Or as revealing." You bite your lip when you look back up at her, holding back a self-conscious expression of concern. The gown itself is beautiful and not terribly immodest. While it certainly does show off your figure from the waist up, the thin skirts still envelope your legs and create a sort of flowing golden sea around them that would make even the clumsiest wearer appear elegant. The jewelry that was laid on your neck and hung from your ears gleams in the late morning sun, making you feel simultaneously extravagant and like a doll that has been dressed up by its owner. And perhaps you are exactly that, but the prince's gifts should be on full display today of all days. "I will try not to fuss too much."

"Your Raeden cannot keep his eyes off of you." She confides with a proud smirk, as if that had been her plan all along rather than making sure that everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew that you are Oberyn Martell's bride. "We will have to remind him not to draw his impressive sword on those that stare at you wantonly." He is not inside the carriage for the ride from Flea Bottom, but Oberyn has decided that he will be the guard brought for the wedding, making sure that your own soulmate is nearby.

“He has more propriety than anyone I have ever met. You need not fear his ability to hold his tongue.” What he might say or do afterward – in private – is another matter entirely. It would not be the first time that Raeden ravaged you after a particularly long day of standing by while you were wearing something he liked very much. Unfortunately, the blue gown that he always claimed was his favorite to see you in had been torn apart by your mother’s rage. Not everything in your trunks had been intact.

"Oh, I am not afraid of what he might say." Ellaria corrects with a smile as she glances over at her own lover. "It is unusual to have a man who does hold his tongue, for our prince has never learned that particular trait."

"I have no need to hold my tongue." Oberyn counters, his dark eyes fixed on you as he answers. "Whatever my position does not afford me, my spear does."

It is not your fault for taking his double meaning. Not truly. Not when he displayed himself to you so fully in the bath this morning and let his fingers graze your neck so enticingly while giving you the necklace you are wearing as a gift not half an hour ago. It is not reprehensible to be flustered slightly by the direct attention of such a worldly man. Not even when that man is your husband of less than one day.

He notices you fidget; he notices everything about you. The knowing light in Ellaria's eyes telling him that she is aware of his attentions. and it does not matter to her. She approves of his interest in his wife, as fruitless as it may prove to be. The fact that you have not fallen at his feet providing him with a curiosity that he has not had for a long time.

“We should not be late.” It would be most impolite, if nothing else, and you do not know how long you can stand between the two of them with their attention on you. Raeden’s gaze is comfortable and warming – when the prince and Ellaria look at you with such interest it makes you feel as if you might combust fully on the spot. “That would not do well for our first appearance as a party.”

Her hand is careful not to ruin the maid's work with your hair as her hands cup your cheeks. The carriage is at a stop and any moment the door will be opened. Your lips are plush and painted with the loveliest shade of lip color, making Ellaria lean in and kiss you.

The moment lingers, just the sweet pressure of her mouth on yours as your mind races to catch up with what is happening and realize that it is as sweet and gentle a kiss as any you have had before. By the time you remember yourself and reluctantly sit back in the carriage, you have more questions about what has just happened than anything else. "I—" Your eyes flicker between Ellaria and the prince, wondering if the amusement you see in their eyes is imagined or not. "I am not...entirely sure...what I did to earn such a response."

"Beautiful things deserve to be appreciated." Ellaria hums, smirking slightly as she pulls back and scooches towards the carriage door just as she raps on it to signify it is permissible to open it. "And you might be the loveliest of all Oberyn's possessions."

The driver helps Ellaria out of the carriage while you fluster measurably, avoiding the prince's eyes and knowing smirk by following directly after his paramour. The line of carriages extends in either direction as guests disembark, and empty carriages pull away to wait for their owners to be done with the day's festivities. Raeden stands resplendent in his regalia that marks him a guardian of House Martell and offers you a small but proud smile. The prince steps out behind you, making your party of four complete, and you raise your chin slightly to match Ellaria's easy confidence. It may be unconventional to look to her as an example, but your mind is still reeling from the feeling of her lips against yours and you could use the guidance.

Oberyn saunters, he doesn’t walk up to the pair of gorgeous women. Both of them belonging to him. His sun, his world and his…wife. “Ladies.” He hums. "Are we ready to shock the Seven Kingdoms and make every man here fume in jealousy?"

"A few of the ladies as well, I hope." Ellaria adds, a satisfied smile gracing her beautiful mouth as both of you take Oberyn's arms. Raeden is merely one step behind, ready and at attention.

"With our guard here, of course the women will be jealous." Oberyn knows the weight of his own appeal and wears it easily as your fingers twitch against the crook of his elbow. His own robes are exquisite and in total coordination with yours and Ellaria's gowns and Ser Raeden's uniform.

You had told your soulmate before leaving Flea Bottom that you thought he looked very handsome in his uniform, and the light in his eyes had shone a little bit brighter at your praise. Now he looks proud as a peacock as he walks behind you, and you glance back to offer him a broad grin. "It will certainly be a very interesting day."

There is an easy air of confidence as Oberyn starts his walk towards the large sept. His eyes watchful for the bitter harpy that is your mother even though no one would think that he has a care in the world.

There are eyes on you in such a way that you have never experienced before. People whispering, wondering who you are and why you are on the prince's arm. Everyone knows he brought a lover to King's Landing, but two? Two seems outrageous even for Oberyn Martell. Guided inside, the pews and aisles of the sept are separated by an ocean of guests extending greetings to each other and inspecting each other's wardrobes for the grand event. The voice of Olenna Tyrell seems to be boisterous and cheery in the center of things, and in this moment she is nodding along with the words of a woman whose voice you would recognize across whole continents. Olenna Tyrell is being talked at, at length, by your own mother.

He is aware the moment your mother catches sight of you. Her voice dies mid word, and the sharp inhale of disapproval nearly echoes in the inner chamber of the sept despite the din of conversation behind her. Never one to shy away from a fight, Oberyn guides you towards the two women with a charming and mischievous smile on his face. "Lady Tyrell." He nods his head towards the elder woman while subtly snubbing your mother. "It seems as if the gardens around the seven kingdoms have been emptied of their blooms to provide such lavish arrangements." He compliments. "No doubt your keen eye had a hand in it."

"You've been a flatterer since you were eighteen years old." Olenna Tyrell observes in amusement, the suppressed smile on her face peaked up at the edges in delight. "I'll bow my head, Prince Oberyn, to save my knees from the curtsy. But who are your exquisite guests? Rumours have swirled over who you might bring today."

“On my right, my lovely paramour, Ellaria Sand.” He introduces her to the head of the Tyrell household as if she were a lady in her own right. He says your name as he turns towards you with equal pride. “My own bride, newly gotten.” He looks at you as if you are a precious gemstone, irreplaceable to him.

"Bride?" The Tyrell matriarch's expression morphs into one of wolfish amusement. "My darling I did not even recognize you. Marriage has given you an absolutely radiant glow." She knew of your betrothal, of course, having been the one to encourage her granddaughter to befriend you as a suitable ally. But a swift marriage between a reluctant pair almost always yields an interesting story. "My most heartfelt congratulations."

“Many thanks.” His head finally turns towards your mother. “The Princess Martell, lady.” He keeps his voice steady but there is a clear warning. “Respects are to be extended.”

The fire in your mother's eyes is unmistakable. Of the hundreds of times you have seen it, though, nothing could compare to this. Not only did you and Raeden escape the grasp of her punishments, but you had run so far that you had become untouchable in the process. Drawn up to your full height on the prince's arm, you actually feel every bit as proud as you look in this moment. As proud as you look – your mother's anger and frustration may be more so.

The moment for courtesy passes silently, your mother’s eyes fixed on you and Oberyn feels the tiniest pressure of Ellaria’s hand on the crook of his elbow. A silent plea for him to not cause a scene that will attract the attention of every lord already in the Sept. The charming smile turns pointed, his eyes hardening as he watches her stubbornly refuse to extend his wife the respect her station now demands. It is an insult to you, but also to Dorne. The delicate necklace around your neck is not just a gorgeous gift, it serves a purpose. It is a smaller, lighter copy of the heavy gold chain around his own neck. The signet of House Martell crafted into the costly metal and indicating your place among royalty. His voice drops, tone cold enough to freeze any man currently sitting his ass on the giant ice block that is the Northern Wall. “You will bend your knee or I will bend it for you.” He threatens, eyes glittering with promise.

Your eyes widen, looking to the man beside you with immediate surprise. Demanding not just a modicum of manners from your mother but a complete bending of the knee is not at all what you expected from him, and you must wonder if this is not some play for power or else a rather public admonishment to your mother. There is no need to play for power for a prince, of course, but your hand unconsciously tightens on his arm anyway, as if you are trying to warn him of her rage without words.

Her smile turns so brittle it would crack underneath the smallest breeze and he can hear the fury in her words, sweet as she might have intended them, the venom pulses underneath. “My lord, this my daughter.” Her tittering laugh is meant to disarm him, but it does nothing.

“Your Grace.” He corrects, one eyebrow arching as he stares her down. “And your daughter is now my princess, the vows recorded in the Citadel.”

Olenna Tyrell watches with fascination, aware that Oberyn had waved away her own need to bend her knee, making a special point to not accept any other form of niceties. It is intriguing and she wonders what Margery had managed to learn during your walk through the gardens. You and your prince will be allies in coming days.

Your mother – the woman who has threatened your life more than any other creature in the world – is nervously realizing that she is being watched as eyes begin to turn toward your small group on the sept floor. Olenna Tyrell looks positively tickled but your own mother could spit fire until a voice from a few yards away breaks through the crowd.

“My darling girl!” Your father turns from his conversation with Lord Tyrion and in no less than a moment is at your side to embrace you. “We did not know where you’d gone,” he murmurs in your ear, the relief in his voice obvious. “Your mother said you ran away to spite us but I knew you would never do that.”

“No, Papa.” With your voice barely above a whisper, you hug your father back with one arm and wonder just how many armies of lies your mother has told him throughout the years. More than you can fathom, probably. “I will explain it all to you later, but the prince and I said our vows yesterday at the Citadel.”

“Truly?” He looks so proud that it almost breaks your heart, and there is a small rippling gasp from the crowd as your own Lord Father bends the knee without any prompting whatsoever. “Then you are truly now my princess,” he tells you with a watery smile. “Although you have long been that in my heart.”

Oberyn watches the fury etched on your mother’s face contort as she realizes that she has no choice to follow suit or call attention to her rebellion. When your mother finally dips down, it’s the barest inch as she nearly growls. Your father, jovial imbecile that he is, doesn’t even notice. His focus is on his daughter and the prince cannot help but wonder how such a pairing exists together without bloodshed. They seem to be such polar opposites. “Forgive the haste.” Oberyn takes your hand and kisses it sensuously. “After our meeting, there was no need to wait until we returned to Dorne to make this gorgeous creature my princess.”

“It is a relief to see such happiness in the match,” your father is beaming, nearly on the verge of joyful tears, and he looks past you only for the briefest moment to nod to Raeden behind you. “Ser Stone will serve your family well, your Grace. As he has served ours. We wish you every happiness and many children in the years to come.”

Your lover’s safety is assured. Oberyn realizes your mother had never taken her accusations to the lord, making it an ill-timed bluff on her part. He nods, his dark eyes fixed on your mother. “The safety of those under my protection is something that I take very seriously.” He replies, sending her a clear warning.

Your mother swallows heavily, looking between you and your new husband as she realizes she has made a calculated error. The tales of the prince’s promiscuity and prowess as a warrior had led her to believe that he would treat you as breeding stock. Like the way a northern man would – disregarding your opinions and teaching you submissions. The Prince of Dorne, against everything she had hoped before meeting him yesterday – seems actually to like you.

“Oberyn has been most attentive and kind.” It is the first time you have ever called him by his given name and it warms through you expectedly.

“It is easy when your kindness and grace is a trait that is a credit to your house.” Obviously not from your mother but the compliment from the prince makes your father beam with pride. “She will be most welcomed in Dorne.”

Your father finds his feet again and embraces you, and for a moment it seems as though everyone present has entirely forgotten your mother, who must push to her feet in her own. Lady Olenna Tyrell and Lord Tyrion are nearby observing everything, and your father regards you fondly, with a raised eyebrow. “Finding married life not so disagreeable now, your Grace?”

The fact that your father believes that you are happily wed makes Oberyn believe that while he might love you as a daughter, he does not know you. Ellaria stands off to the side and he turns to exchange a meaningfully amused look since he is well aware of his own daughters’ desires, even the younger ones.

“I could hardly think of anything as comforting as the care I have received since marrying.” As careful as your wording is, it is also very true. The prince has been nothing but kind and understanding, even sweet, since you came to him for help. Ellaria’s own attention to you has been only welcoming. And Raeden? Raeden has been the magnificent man that you have always known him to be. If you could not wed your soulmate, this is hardly a worst-case substitute.

“Good.” Your father is extremely pleased, especially since that means good relations with Dorne. It will prove very profitable to your former house.

“We should sit.” People are beginning to rustle around you, finding seats and turning their attention to the wedding at hand instead of the one no one was invited to. “We will have time to speak more later.”

“That we will, pumpkin.” Your father nods respectfully to you and Oberyn, frowning slightly when he sees the man’s paramour but he doesn’t speak on it since you seem undisturbed by her presence.

“Yes, I think we will indeed,” you mother murmurs unhappily, and you can’t quite tell if she’s going to have opinions for your father or for you. One thing is certain either way, Prince Oberyn won’t be hearing a single word of it.

“Come, my loves.” Oberyn offers both of his arms to you and Ellaria. “The Sept and the wedding of the king awaits us.”

It is for show. You must remember that. And yet the moment the word passes his lips it pierces something in you that you had not expected. It might be hope, or affection, or simply gratitude, but when you take his arm to walk together there is a moment where you could almost swear he means it. And that is not something you had ever even considered possible until this very moment.

Oberyn does not enter anywhere without causing a stir. Especially when he comes with not one, but two beautiful women on his arms. He smirks as he nods towards another noble that he has seen at the brothel over the past few days. Now sitting next to his wife.

People gawk when the prince is near. That is something you will have to adjust to in time. For now you are simply grateful when he situates you and Ellaria between himself and Raeden in the vast pews of the Citadel to bear witness to the Union of King Joffrey and Lady Margaery.

Oberyn allows you to sit beside your lover, his own body pressed against Ellaria’s, although he drapes his arm over the back of the bench so he can trail his fingers over the skin of your shoulder. Making sure people see him touch you. As if you are his wife in every sense of the word.

The painfully tedious ceremony holds no joy or wonderment for you. The couple at the altar do not seem happy to be standing with each other – more that they are playacting at it. The words seem insincere and the vows rehearsed, and it throws into sharp relief how different a turn yesterday had taken in your own marriage. That would have been you, three or four weeks from now standing beside the prince with dread in your mouth. Instead he had saved you without hesitation. Your marriage of necessity already holds far more affection than this match in front of you. Even if he is only touching you for show, the simple fact that you do not shrink from the prince’s touch speaks volumes.

Oberyn is well aware of the affect that touching can have on a person. He feels the slight shiver and goosebumps pop up on your skin. While no one should be paying attention, any that are would think that you are anticipating a more intimate touch later. He leans over to kiss his paramour’s shoulder when Joffrey speaks.

The king may as well be speaking gibberish for all the attention you are paying, too distracted by the ghost of a touch across your shoulder to register the words echoing over the assembled spectators. If you were in private you might have closed your eyes against the feeling but as it is you are left to wonder how something so simple is able to make you feel so much. It would be downright embarrassing if anyone could see the way your body is responding – and the thin sheen of shame at being aroused to the point of dampness between your legs from anyone other than Raeden is very real.

Raeden knows the prince is touching you, he can feel your body stiffen beside his. Confusion swirling in his gut because he’s jealous. Not only because he can touch you whenever he wants, but because the guard wants Oberyn to touch him.

Ellaria, for her part, seems amused by being in the middle of you and Oberyn's lightly flirtatious touch. Having been on the receiving end of so many of his touches before she does not feel jealous to know he is touching someone else that way, but is very much interested to know how you will feel in response. From the way you are watching the altar very deliberately with faraway eyes, she would have to say you are enjoying it – perhaps very much.

Finally the vows are exchanged and Oberyn grimaces when the kiss happens. Leaning in and whispering loud enough that you and his lover can both hear. “I think that there will be some wine hastily swallowed after that kiss.”

You know you should not react, but the way your cheeks tighten barely smothers a smirk. The fact that you did not have to suffer through a ceremony as painful as this one seems a mercy now.

“Lover.” Ellaria chides, although her tone is vastly amused. “They are young still.”

Oberyn snorts and shakes his head. “I had already sired Obara by that age. Killled a man in my first duel.”

The whole of the sept are rising to their feet to applaud the happy couple, and when you stand you throw an amused smile at Ellaria with the soft memory of her kiss in the carriage on your lips. "At their age I had not even been kissed," you admit under your breath.

“That is a shame.” She pouts, shaking her head. “You should be kissed often. Everywhere.”

If the gentleman in front of you heard her he does not show it, but you look away briefly as the sept goes up in applause and cheers as the people of Westeros celebrate their new queen and her marriage to the king. "Perhaps," you murmur under your breath, not knowing what else to say.

“Come.” Oberyn slides out of the bench and reaches for both of you. “There will be wine and food. Perhaps we shall find some entertainment as well.”

"Dancing, lover?" Ellaria hums as she casts a look back at Raeden. "I believe your bride and I should both like to dance."

“Then we will dance.” He smirks and leans into you. “Ellaria is a very seductive dancer, my love.” He confides playfully.

It is only for show, you remind yourself again when that word warms through you like fire. "Raeden is a wonderful dancer as well." Is what you say instead, offering up the morsel of information to be shared within your small group. The times you had danced together in secret were wonderful, romantic moments.

“Then you and my paramour must take turns with Ser Raeden.” Oberyn knows that it will be far less suspicious if he dances with both women, as if the prince had ordered it. It would allow you to have a moment with your soulmate, being open without it being common knowledge.

"We will all enjoy the festivities to their utmost, your Grace." Raeden's voice is low but warm, full of gratitude at being able to be a part of the moment instead of simply standing by and observing. It is not easy to forever feel like an ornament.

“Make sure you eat too.” Oberyn glances over at him with a grin. “Ellaria will wear a man out if he does not eat before tangling with her.”

"I will, your Grace." The invitation could even be considered an order, but Ellaria winks over her shoulder at him and Raeden actually smiles. To be treated well – as though he is wanted by people other than you – is a welcome feeling.

As the four of you make your way to the gardens, Oberyn swaggers, aware that many have their eyes on the unusual pairing, and he hums happily. “I think the queen mother will not be happy that the attention is taken off her bastard son.”

"I only hope Queen Margaery is not upset." She had been so kind to you, after all. You would hate to sour her wedding day.

“I doubt she will be.” Oberyn doesn’t believe the girl is stupid enough to believe that the day is supposed to be truly happy. Not with Olenna Tyrell as her grandmother. He looks around and spots her brother Loras. Smirking when the third son of Mace Tyrell catches his eye.

"Do you know that gentleman?" The curly-haired blonde looks familiar but you cannot place him, thinking only that you must have seen him in the halls of the Keep during the few days that you were there. The fact that he is looking rather lustfully at the man you are recently married to does not truly factor into anything. In fact, you understand it fully.

“Hmmmm.” Oberyn guides you to a table to sit down, plopping into a seat beside you as Ellaria sits on his other side. “Loras Tyrell.” He informs you. “Our queen’s brother and the Knight of Flowers.” He hums in amusement. He sends the man a small, sly wink.

"I do not think I am familiar with that title." There are pitchers of wine and goblets on every table even before the feast has begun, and bowls of fruit and nuts scattered around the gardens for guests to indulge in with their first glasses of wine. Even after only knowing the prince for a day, you know for certain that he will focus on those bowls of treats over any other food.

Ellaria leans over Oberyn and pops a berry into her lover’s mouth as he continues to make eyes at the other man. “He is also known as the knight of pansies.” She tells you with a smirk. “It is said that half the women in the seven kingdoms want to bed him, but….” She moans quietly when Oberyn sucks on her finger. “His interest lay elsewhere, preferring a cock over a cunt.”

"Oh." Your eyes widen for a moment before you can school your expression into something much more neutral, and you almost imagine feeling Raeden stiffen on your other side. "I see." So many other people in world seem so comfortable with that attraction – the pull between two men or two women – but you were raised differently. Making your own moments of attraction to other women all the more confusing and never to be spoken of.

“Do not tell me you disapprove?” Ellaria asks, hearing the censure in your voice. If you cannot accept Oberyn’s tastes, then your marriage will be a cold one.

"No." It is out of your mouth so fast that the word is almost too loud, which surely would have gotten your group even more attention. "N—no. It is only..." It is that you are jealous, you realize with a moment of regret, and you look down at your hands in your lap instead of at any of them. "It is only that we are not so free with such things in the Vale," you explain quietly. "It is an adjustment."

“It is not free in the majority of the seven kingdoms.” Oberyn reaches for a wine goblet and takes a swallow. “I just do not care what people think of me.”

"Perhaps that is a virtue, your Grace." If you could simply disappear in order to escape, you would do it happily. This moment has made you far too aware of things that you had been trying to tamp down and your discomfort is rising measurably.

“Lover, you are embarrassing your bride.” Ellaria tilts her head slightly as she looks over at you.

"Upsetting." Raeden corrects softly, knowing the look on your face as intimately as any lover possibly could. He cannot comfort you in public, but he can certainly alert those who can to how you are truly feeling. What he does not know is why you are upset. Unless the idea of two men indulging in each other is that dismaying for you after all.

That makes Oberyn look away from his potential conquest to look over at you. “Why is my princess upset?” He demands softly, reaching out and caressing your cheek.

"Please..." If they ask then you will be bound to say, and that could be more embarrassing for you than upsetting. Or perhaps it would be damaging altogether, you cannot tell. All you know is that someone is bound to be hurt by it and you do not wish to hurt anyone at all. "Please, do not fuss. I am simply not feeling myself."

Oberyn is not a man who listens, especially not when he can see now there is something bothering you. You might not be his lover, but you are his wife, under his care. And like everyone under his care, he listens. Turning to Ellaria, a silent conversation passes with a look and flirtations with Loras are put on hold as he stands and draws you to your feet. “Come with me.”

There is nothing you can do but obey, and not only because he is your husband. There are eyes on you from every direction and you refuse to cause a scene. So you are left to simply nod, letting him take your hand and lead you from the table as guests continue to arrive and mill about, greeting each other before the king and his new queen arrive to their own banquet.

He knows that some will think that he is stealing his wife away for an intimate moment, and he might have if circumstances had been different. As it is, he guides you towards a deserted part of the gardens before he stops. “Princess?”

"I am still not used to being called that." And you cannot bring yourself to meet his eyes, either, looking down at your hands and skirts to avoid it entirely. "And I apologize if I have upset you at all."

“I am not upset.” He captures your chin and tilts it up, watching you with serious eyes. “However, you are.”

"I am..." His eyes are warm despite their seriousness, and you are reminded that he has been a father almost as long as you have been alive. It makes you wonder if he is treating you like he might treat one of his daughters – which is a terrible thought for entirely separate reasons. “I am.” You admit softly, and your eyes close to avoid looking at him again. "But only with myself."

“Why are you upset with yourself?” He frowns slightly and looks back towards the garden where the clapping had started. Obviously the king and queen had shown up. “Does the idea of those things disgust you?” He had not gotten that feeling before, but maybe he had been wrong.

"Those things?" It takes a moment for your mind to catch up again, but you shake your head. It feels like you are swimming when you do, a very disorienting feeling to begin with and now it makes you feel like you are drowning. "You mean...no. No, it does not...love is not disgusting. That is not..." You sigh out a long, deep breath and wish to all seven gods that you had been able to simply keep your composure at that table. Or that Raeden had not ratted you out to your new husband. "My first experiences with intimacy were with a woman. It is not that I am disgusted at all."

He is stunned into silence for a moment before he slowly starts to smirk. “Princess.” He picks up your hand and kisses the back of your hand and squeezes it gently. “There is no judgement here.” He promises. “If you wish to resume those experiences, you are most welcome to. As long as your Raeden does not object.” He longs to ask what kind of intimacies you have experienced but you look like you are about to expire. “If Ellaria is not your choice, there are dozens of clean, gorgeous whores to choose room when we return tonight.”

"Ellaria is remarkable. Anyone she even looks at twice should be honored." The last thing you would ever want is for either of them to believe that you were not grateful for their help and appreciative of their attention. Having the prince and his paramour turn their attention on you for even a moment is like being bathed in summer sun. "I simply..." Although there is nothing simple about it. "Never met anyone before who ever seemed to be able to make the difficulties of caring for more than one person seem possible. And it is...more difficult to understand than I would like to admit." It breaks the very foundation of what you thought was true about love and attraction, and so it is causing you more discomfort to think about than you are willing to admit. "Forgive me if that is a disappointment."

“The only disappointment will be if you do not live how you wish to.” Oberyn assures you, starting to understand your dilemma a bit better. “Men can have their wives, their lovers, and whores while no one would think it odd. A woman is held to a different standard because men want things their way. They wish to never believe they might not satisfy the wife or there is no need for another lover beyond his visits to her bed.” He shakes his head and scoffs. “They are fools.”

"Before very recently, I thought I knew well what life I wanted." It was one you never thought that you would be able to live, but you were convinced that it would have been what made you happy. To be Raeden's wife in a small village somewhere in the unknown world would have been wonderful. To birth and raise his children, to work for his happiness would have made your own. That unattainable dream is now even further away and you find yourself wondering now if happiness might actually be attainable with the life you have been handed. Or if Raeden would despise you for being glad to have Prince Oberyn and his paramour in your life.

“If you wish, I will send you to a small estate.” Oberyn frowns, not liking the idea much. “You and your Raeden. A place without servants or pretense.” He really doesn’t care for the idea, but you don’t seem to know what you want.

"But then I would not see you." Your response is immediate, shaken slightly, and your eyes dart up to his with surprising speed.

He relaxes slightly and nods. “Then you will figure out what makes you happy and enjoy it to the fullest.” He predicts with a soft smile.

"I can only hope that it does not take too long to understand myself." Although, you have an immense fear that it will. Apparently you have been lying to yourself just as you have lied to others. Just about different things.

“It takes however long it takes.” He pats your hand. “Did you enjoy your night with your soulmate?”

"It was a relief to not be afraid," you tell him quietly. Being patted makes you feel like a child, and once again you wonder if he thinks of you with the same regard as any other young girl his daughters' age. "I hope you enjoyed your night as well?"

“There is much pleasure to be had within the walls of that brothel.” He hums happily. “Cal very eagerly bounced on my cock while Ellaria sat on my tongue and licked her pretty little redhead’s cunt.” He chuckles, “I am hoping tonight to find out how talented the Tyrell boy’s ass milks a cock.”

"And that much physical pleasure does nothing to diminish your love for Ellaria?" It is the bare minimum that you can do for him, in the way he has done so much for you, to try to understand him. The way he indulges his lust seems to be a fundamental need for him, so as much as it is new for you, you will do what you can to become more comfortable with it.

“Never.” Oberyn shakes his head. “Everyone would have to stand in line behind her.” He smiles and gives a very dreamy look. “It actually makes our own love sweeter. Her pleasure is my pleasure and she feels the same.”

"The way you love her is admirable." On your best days, you hope that you love Raeden half as well. It is only that the wish in the back of your mind for love and happiness is beginning to include him, and that is startling to you.

“Despite the fact that we share scars, I choose her.” He explains. “Every day we choose each other.”

"That makes you both very lucky. To be able to choose each other without fear." Your hands are still in his and they flex gently in his grip. Despite being married to this man under the eyes on the gods, you feel irrevocably shy in his presence.

“You can choose your soulmate, Princess.” He reminds you quietly. “Now, we must return and pretend that we were fucking.”

"I do choose him." A wave of boldness rises up from your toes that you do not understand or truly even want to comprehend, but it is there anyway. "I did not know before now that I could choose more than one person." His hands are firm in yours and before you can stop yourself, you are pulling him back to you and pressing your lips to his in earnest, only hoping that he does not consider you foolish for acting impulsively.

Oberyn had promised you that he would never take what you did not offer and he had meant it. However, you have initiated this kiss and as much as it shocks him, he reacts. One hand cups the back of your head and the other wraps around your back so he can guide you towards the nearest tree as his tongue pushes past your lips and he kisses you with a hunger that surprises even him.

The fire of the moment leaves you breathless, shaken to your core just the same way you were the first time you kissed Raeden. There is passion and need there, to such a degree that you cling to him as he cages you between his body and the nearest tree, letting him map every inch of your mouth as you eagerly do the same with him.

It is a change of heart from yesterday but he won’t question it. Not when you are pressing yourself against him and gripping his robes as if you are afraid that he would pull away. Making him groan quietly as his tongue strokes yours eagerly.

It is only the need to breathe that makes you pull away from him, and even then you feel your head spin. “I—” You do not need to apologize for kissing your husband, but still it feels like an intrusion. Like you ought to have asked, or spoken to Ellaria first. Spoken to Raeden first. But it was done in the heat of the moment. “I do not yet know exactly what I want,” you admit, your heart racing. “But I wish for you to be included in it. Somehow.”

“Then I will fit into whatever slot you determine.” He is panting slightly and he cannot deny that his cock has hardened under his robes. You are disheveled and that will play into the rumor that he fucked you in the gardens nicely.

“We should return.” Your body is on fire the way only one other person has ever managed in your life, and you have to consciously make the decision to let go of his robes and step back so you don’t do anything inappropriate.

“We should.” Oberyn wants to kiss you again, but the moment has passed. Offering you his arm again as Cersei comes into view. He huffs quietly and stares.

The flustered expression on your face coupled with the Dornish prince looking like the cat who got the cream makes Cersei rankle, but she says nothing as the pair of you glide past her. Another slut for Oberyn's harem, she thinks with a roll of her eyes.

“That will be a burr in her cunt for days.” He predicts quietly with a smirk.

"Surely she knows your reputation." You murmur, looking back at him. "It should not surprise her."

“One would think.” Oberyn hums, knowing it is only a matter of time before Cersei lowers herself to actually approach him with her real problem, her daughter. She has never been happy that Myrcella had been sent to Dorne, betrothed to his nephew. “She is not to be trusted.” He advises you quietly. “The Lannisters lie.”

“I do not believe a Lannister has ever spoken me to before our meeting yesterday.” You breathe as he ushers you quickly through the gardens.

“Count yourself fortunate.” Oberyn sneers. “Even more so if you do not have to converse with another until the day their house lays in ruin.”

“Do not let her presence sour your mood, my lord.” Until catching sight of the Dowager, he had seemed to be in a relatively good humor, and you are still very much buzzing from kissing him. The last thing you want is for that good feeling to be overshadowed.

He relaxes slightly, aware he was letting his personal animosity for the Lannisters get to him. “You are right.” He looks over at you with amusement. “Is it all women, or those that I am around?”

“I am not sure I understand?” Perhaps you might know what he is asking you if your mind were not so hazy, but with your hand wrapped around his arm as you walk, there is no escaping it.

“The women around me seem to always be right.” He jokes, sending you a small wink when your frown of confusion seems to make him want to kiss you again. While you might have kissed him a moment ago, he doesn’t believe that you have given him permission to reciprocate whenever he wished.

“Ellaria is very clever.” Something which you do not know if you can claim for yourself, but you certainly can praise her from sunrise to sunset.

“As is the woman who is my princess.” He hums, patting your hand. “Clever and brave.” He praises. “You decided that your lover’s life was worth everything when another would have never been brave enough to venture through the city or come to a man you had no interest in marrying.”

“You were my only hope.” There is no shame in admitting that, especially because he had proven to be so much more than just understanding. He has so much kindness to share. “And I am very grateful to you for your mercy. Not everyone would have opened their arms to their betrothed’s soulmate the way you did.”

“It would have been a shame to have such a man put to death for a lie.” He does not think he did much. “Nor would you have been happy if he had.”

“Yes,” you agree with a nod. “But do you realize how few would have taken either my happiness or the lie into account?”

“All but those few are fools.” He tells you with a shrug. “Liars will continue to lie and happiness in your home is the greatest treasure a man can possess.”

“And you are a good man, which I am grateful for.” When Raeden and Ellaria are in sight again, you can see plainly that they have been having their own intimate discussion and though you expect to feel nerves or jealousy, it is relief that washes over you.

“There are some who would not agree with you.” Oberyn sees that Raeden has shifted closer to Ellaria, his protective nature apparently extending towards your husband’s paramour. It is warming to see.

“Then perhaps it is that you are a good husband?” When he pauses in his step you offer him a shy smile. “And for that I am grateful as well.”

Retuning to the feast, Oberyn sets you down and nods towards your lover, assuring him that you are not upset any longer. Another, longer conversation would be needed, but it could wait for another time.

Ellaria tucks herself into Oberyn’s side easily when he sits again, and there is mischief in her eyes but the first thing she does is lean into him. “All is well?”

“Of course.” Oberyn leans in and brushes his nose against hers. “My wife feels guilty that your kiss is not the first she has ever shared with a woman.”

“No?” This seems to delight Ellaria, or at least it is unexpected enough that her eyes light up. “But that is not a reason for guilt. I do not desire to claim her innocence.”

“I think she does believe that to want another means that she does not love her Raeden enough.” Oberyn ventures quietly.

“Or is she afraid that he will think so?” Ellaria frowns, tutting softly. “I hope neither does. For their sake. Love should not include fear.”

“We know that.” His hand links with hers and he brings them up to kiss hers softly. “But we have been free to love for longer than they have.”

“I am fine,” you assure Raeden quickly after sitting down again, touching your hand to his leg ever so briefly under the table where it cannot be seen. “I was overwhelmed, but I am better. Did you…have a conversation with Ellaria? While we were gone?” The urgency of the question in your mind makes you wonder if you hope they did more than speak, but that is too vast of a thought to conquer right now.

“I did.” Raeden nods, sure that he hears hope in your voice and wonders about it. Something has shifted slightly, as if the bath this morning changed things and he is not sure how to align himself.

"And...all is well?" There is no reason it should not be, but the sudden guilt you feel at having enjoyed kissing the prince so thoroughly floods you and makes you reach for your wine.

"It...is." Raeden does not tell you what Ellaria said, you are aware of her interest in him, you have spoken on it. However, he wonders if you are really aware of her interest in you.

"You are upset." The weight on your shoulders presses down on you, chastising you for daring to enjoy the prince's attention while leaving your soulmate to be upset by someone else. " I—I should not have...have left you. Forgive me."

"I am not upset." Confused, confounded and wholly unsure of himself – but he is not upset. Especially considering that you are wearing a slightly dreamy expression on your face. One that reminds him of the look that you carried when the two of you were early in the days of your secret romance.

"If that is what you say then I believe you." After all, he has never lied to you. Or made you believe that he was hiding something. It is only you who are hiding things from him. At this very moment. The fear of what he would think if he knew you were feeling attraction for the man you married is deep and terrifying.

He is very aware of the fact that you do not sound completely convinced. And yet he finds himself nodding as he looks towards you again and then around the feast to make sure that no one is watching. "All is well." He promises, reaching down and stroking your thigh gently under the table.

"You are smiling, lover." Ellaria leans into Oberyn's side, her voice quiet and a berry between her fingers already destined for his lips. She has a feeling that whatever passed between you and the prince, it was more lighthearted than what was spoken between her and Raeden.

"She kissed me." Oberyn reveals quietly, accepting the berry eagerly and turning to watch his lover's reaction to that little bit of news.

Her eyebrow raises in interest, and Ellaria tucks her smirk into the corner of her mouth. "More than a polite peck? Otherwise you would not look so pleased with yourself."

"Much different from the shallow kiss we exchanged at the Citadel." He hums, finding it to be a small victory. The woman he had married yesterday had no intentions of ever kissing him again, by all accounts.

"So your idea to invade their bath this morning turned out the way you wished?" It had not been a malicious act, or even a manipulative one, but it had been Oberyn's intention to attempt to knock down the walls between the four of them this morning. Or at least to begin to fracture the strength of those walls.

"Perhaps." He won't say that you are willing to jump into bed with him, but the idea of more is certainly there. "How was your conversation with our Ser Raeden?"

"He is, I think, a harder nut to crack." Which is disappointing, but not exactly surprising. She reaches for his wine to put the goblet in Oberyn's hand. "As you say, we have been free to love for longer than they have. It is harder to admit one's wants when you have not been allowed to even think of those things in your own mind."

"They are both very repressed creatures." Oberyn sighs softly.

"It is not their fault." She tuts softly, feeling sympathy rather than pity. "Your princess is already making strides."

"Yes she is." He looks over at you and watches as you Raeden talk quietly between yourselves. "Perhaps Ser Loras would enjoy our company this evening?" He asks, shifting his gaze back across the garden towards the other man.

Taking that to mean that you have not made much progress, Ellaria simply nods and leans in to brush a kiss or two along her soulmate’s jaw. “A delectable choice. You will fit perfectly between us, or else I will enjoy my evening quite thoroughly with Cal and Leyth.”

The music starts quietly as the minstrels begin to play. Filling the courtyard with the sweet strands of joy and light. Oberyn looks over at his lover and leans in, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. "Whatever we do, it will be together, my sun."

The crowd applauds dutifully to see the newly married couple dance together, the steps long practiced and rehearsed. The queen is resplendent and joyful, laughing as she moves with elegance, and soon enough others are standing to join the festivities.

Oberyn leans over again, making sure that he keeps his voice loud enough for any nearby to hear. "Ser Raeden, would you take my wife to dance?" He asks, standing and holding out his hand for Ellaria to take. "I would wish for her to enjoy all the festivities this wedding has to offer."

“It would be my honor.” Standing to offer you his hand for the very first time under the public eye as though you had not danced dozens of times in the woods or your chambers, Raeden bows his head respectfully and keeps his smile soft when you take his hand. Most people here have no idea who you are – who Raeden is – but can follow the pattern of two guests in House Martell’s colors getting up to dance together. For the other Dornish nobles that surround you? They simply could not care less who you dance with. There have been polite nods and smiles but nothing more quite yet. For now, your only focus is not stepping on Raeden’s toes in the dance.

Oberyn and Ellaria move fluidly with one another. Years together has allowed them to move with a grace that compliments one another both in bed and when dancing. Sweeping out onto the area that is designated as the dance floor, Oberyn pulls his paramour into his arms and holds her close as he looks towards you and Raeden. If he weren't attracted to both you and the other man, some would say that his bemused smile might seem fatherly as he watches you dance with approval on his face.

“No one can stop us, love,” you whisper quietly, trying to soothe Raeden into relaxing a little in the hold he has on you. Not that you don’t appreciate his strength, but you can tell it comes from nerves. “We could dance until sunup if we liked.”

It's surreal that your mother could not interfere with your dance. Almost as if he is in a dream that is not quite perfection but close enough. His eyes slide over to your husband and he hums. "Unless the prince would not like it." He reminds you.

“He specifically asked you to dance with me.” The music is familiar and wistful, and you turn easily in Raeden’s arms. “There is no reason for him to object.”

"True." He murmurs quietly, pulling you closer and swallowing. "I wish I could kiss you now." He admits, just loud enough for you to hear. "That this was our wedding dance."

“We can pretend,” you murmur back, wishing the same in the depths of your heart. The voice in your mind that reminds you that you are wed – spoken for by a good and clever man – gives you only the smallest measure of guilt. It occurs to you in a wave of confusion that you wish you could have married them both. But that is truly impossible.

"It should be your wedding dance with the prince." He reminds you, not quite as bitter as the comment might have been if he had not experienced how generous the man could be.

“Why can I not dance with both of you?” Well aware of the question that you are not brave enough to ask, this is the best and closest you will probably ever come. And perhaps that is for the best.

"You can." Raeden's hand on your back flexes slightly, the thin material giving him a tantalizing closeness to your flesh that your normal gowns would never permit. "I would never deny you anything you wished, my love."

“You would not feel slighted? Or that I wanted to dance with you any less?” It feels unbelievable that he might actually understand your true meaning, but you have to ask. It feels as if you might burst if you do not.

Raeden pulls back, his dark eyes boring into yours for a long moment, interpreting the question with the same fears and desires that have been plaguing him since meeting both Ellaria and the prince. "Do you want to dance with them?" He is not misspeaking, he is including Ellaria into the question as well on purpose. "I— I would not feel slighted. It does not change my love of dancing with you."

“Do you want to dance with them?” A gasp catches in your throat, shock and that sheen of hope fluttering over you once more.

"Do not ask me that." Raeden begs you, biting his lip and looking across the dance floor. Unable to meet your eyes with the shame of his desires. You would not understand, not really. The things he wants are...unreachable. "You might not accept the answer."

“Do you really think so little of me?” You are not angry, only hurt that you are asking him if he wants the very same thing you want and he thinks that you would deny him. That you would think less of him. The man you love with your deepest heart, and he doubts you. “I would give you anything.”

"I think..." Raeden inhales roughly and meets your eyes. "That we know very little about lust and love." He confesses quietly as the dance comes to an end.

It is not the honesty of his answer that stings, but that he is so correct. That in your excitement and anticipation you had forgotten that there could be a difference at all. It does not matter much now, as you bow to each other in the changing of the music. He is already stepping away from you.

Oberyn appears next to Raeden, his hand on the guard’s back. "Ser Raeden, will you dance with Ellaria while I take the next dance with my wife?" He asks quietly, not sure why you both suddenly look so unhappy.

“As your Grace commands.” Raeden steps away from you fully and bows his head to the prince before moving to Ellaria’s side, leaving you and your husband alone on the vast dance floor.

"I had believed that you would be happy with a dance with your lover." Oberyn reaches for you as the music starts again. Pulling you into his arms and looking over to find Raeden doing the same with Ellaria. "Yet unhappiness clouds your pretty eyes."

“He is keeping something from me and I do not understand why.” Despite the matter of a day being all you have known the prince for, you have found yourself being fully honest with him this afternoon. Something which is more comforting than you might have guessed. “I fear I may have pressed him too far.”

"It is hard for a man to admit weakness to anyone, especially the woman he loves." Oberyn hums quietly, wanting to reassure you. "Especially if it is something that he is afraid of how it would be received."

“There is nothing he could tell me that would make me think less of him.” The prince’s presence is steadying, keeping you upright and grounded even when you feel near tears. “I do not understand what could be so terrible. Unless he intended to step back from me entirely, but even that…it would break my heart but it would not cause me to hate him. He would surely have a reason.”

"Your soulmate's bond with you is not one that is going to suffer." Of that, he can be certain. He moves around the floor with you effortlessly and bends you down when the dance calls for it before he pulls you back up. "I acknowledged unusualness when I was very young, my family did not rebuke me." He murmurs quietly. "No one dares to speak ill of it to my face because of my family name. Your Raeden has not had that luxury."

“There is nothing so unusual that it would make me love him less.” Not fully understanding what is being said, you do still know that for sure.

Oberyn hums, deciding that he will not push the issue, looking over at Ellaria draped over your soulmate and he smiles. She is very attracted to Raeden and the poor man is having a hard time hiding his own attraction to Oberyn's paramour.

“I have said too much and made you uncomfortable as well.” Your eyes drop from his face and you nod solemnly. “Forgive me.”

"You have not made me uncomfortable." He promises, his arms tightening around you. "I am aware you are not fully aware of what I am speaking of, and I hesitate to discuss it with you when it should be your lover."

“My brother says I apologize too much.” You offer, hoping it gives him some insight into who it is he had married. “Though if he knows the reason why, he has never said.”

"Because of your bitch of a mother?" Oberyn hazards a guess, his eyes finding the harpy watching unhappily from her seat in a relatively obscure area.

"Most likely." You blow out a sigh in that unladylike way that would normally get you reprimanded. "She is kinder to my brothers, though. It seems only to be me that she despises."

"Obara's mother was jealous of her." Oberyn hums. "Hated that I wanted her. Wanted to take her away from the hovel that she kept her in. Tried to prevent me from taking my blood, tried to convince me that she wasn't mine."

Grimacing slightly, you shut your eyes briefly and try not to look terribly upset, since there are eyes on you. "My mother has told me more than once that she wishes she had drowned or dashed me at birth. It is not easy to be told such a thing."

"Bitch." He hisses, eyes narrowing in anger at the abuse you had been dealt. "I am glad that she did not get her way." He promises you quietly. "The skies would be a much darker place without stars such as you."

"You are kind." At least, he is to you. And you are more certain than ever that you would never want the prince to be upset with you. You suspect it would hurt your heart if he was.

"No I am not." He shakes his head and chuckles. "I am arrogant, quick tempered and selfish." He knows that he is not the paragon of virtue that you are making him out to be. "I will kill a man if he angers me on the wrong day and think nothing of it."

"And yet?" Your eyes find his ever so tentatively. "It was you who I went to when I needed safety. And you who has comforted me when I was upset. So perhaps you are more than either of us says."

"I am safe." It amuses him to find that to be the case because most would believe that Oberyn Martell is not safe. "I do not hold your heart, so I cannot hurt you."

"You hold my life," you remind him gently. "It is in your power to hurt me in extraordinary ways if you wish. But I do not think you will."

"No, I will not." Oberyn assures you. "You are like the moon in the sky, lovely and unobtainable. Shimmering like a diamond that makes me wish to bask in the soft glow you give off."

It no longer surprises you to know that he occasionally writes poetry, although the new feeling is the wish that he would write some for you. "That sounds very lonely, even as beautiful as you make it out to be."

"The moon hangs closest when the waves lap against the rocky shores near Sunspear." Oberyn reaches up and caresses your cheek. "Making me believe that I could reach up and capture it in my palm, holding it with all the wonder it possesses." Your strength and resolve calls to him. Makes his heart stir like he has not felt in a very long time. Like he had imagined was not possible since he had met his paramour. Yet your eyes on his has his heart quickening.

"Oberyn..." His name is barely a breath when it floats from your lips, wide eyes looking at him with that same sense of wonder that he has described. The claim that does not hold your heart at all might be the most ludicrous thing you have ever heard, but that thought is something you have not tangled with enough to articulate.

"My moon and stars." He hums quietly, watching you with a softness that seems to make everything around the two of you fade to the background. He knows that it might be too much too soon, but he feels it. A connection between you that is impossible to describe beyond meant to be.

"I—" Wishing desperately for another surge of bravery like the one you felt in the garden, the presence of so many eyes on you is the only thing stopping you from kissing him again. Being acutely aware of being thought of as the prince's young or eager bride is not as horrible a thought as it might have been to you once, but you still have no wish to embarrass him.

"It is alright." He promises, seeing the conflicting emotions in your eyes and his fingers trail down your neck until they fall away from your skin. "Nothing needs to be said."

The moment of hesitation has lost you the feeling of his closeness – the feeling of deep intimacy between you – and in that moment you could weep for your own foolishness. But the song is ended and the other couples around you exchange their bows, forcing you to do the same. "It is only that I do not know the words," you insist softly.

"When you decide what they should be, they will come to you." He leans over and kisses your hand gently before straightening as Raeden moves back to your side. "Dance with your lover, star." He urges you gently and reaches for Ellaria when she stands within reach. "The day is still young."

******

A day so young and beautiful that no one present could ever fathom that it would end in blood, tears, and screaming fury as King Joffrey lay dead on the dais and Queen Margaery clung desperately to you in her grief and confusion. The terror of watching Lord Tyrion be carried away in irons, the chaos of the despondent on-lookers, the utter uncertainty of the entire situation have cast a pall over King's Landing by nightfall.

______

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My Masterlist!

[suzie-shooter]

Alex Rider season 3 unhinged liveblog ramblings scribbled during first watch. Spoilers, obvs. (also fair warning, I am not particularly a fan of Tom or Kyra lol)

Episode 1 - Widow

S2 recap trivia - Alex's therapist is Molly Doran from Slow Horses and married to Alan Blunt IRL

Malta: Ok, so we're not just going to pretend it's Venice lol.

Creepy old men already hitting on Alex. Standard.

"After this we're out of leads." How do you even have any leads in the first place? Oh ok, Smithers' phone. Terrible security protocols from him, leaving that much historical classified data on it.

"Find the Widow - surely he could have given you an address?" First thing Tom's ever said I've agreed with lmao

Aaaand within a second he's back to being deeply irritating, okay.

Yassen living rent free in Alex's head, you love to see it.

"They've got this picture of me being the responsible one." Have Tom's parents actually met him?

Ooh Razim mention.

You maybe want to clean that wound before whacking a dressing on it Alex?

"Do you think you'll ever lose your appetite Nile?" Spat my drink.

Damn, no harem pants then. Scrubs up well tho.

Listing Levin in the opening credits than having him be only a S2 flashback should be a warcrime.

Episode 2 - Lab

"This weapon is called pork sword, wait, no, shit, wrong USB."

"Julia Rothman. Definitely a wrong un." Spat my drink again.

Do Crawley and Pritchard not warrant helmets and visors? Are they somehow immune to shrapnel?

So, room 6, wired to blow, yes? It's what I'd do…

Oh yeah sure guys, they're going to still be sitting there, all unmoving in the dark, for sure that's a person, and not a Massive Trap.

Thereeeee we go. Agent mince. Top of your class huh, well you're certainly at the top now, and down the sides and partially out of the window.

I know there's the whole 'characters don't know what genre they're in' thing but you are literally in the 'working for MI6 genre', you are up against people notorious for booby traps and blowing shit up, why the fuck would you touch something that hadn't been declared safe first? Apart from anything else you're fucking up the scene before forensics get there.

"I love you man." Vom.

Alex: breaks into super sekkrit lab. Also Alex: doesn't have the faintest fucking idea what he's looking at, so not really helpful.

COMICALLY LARGE BOMB KLAXON.

Episode 3 - Enemy

"Welcome to Malagosto." OooOOooh.

Maybe I'm just looking at it from a fic writer's perspective but it does seem a massive anticlimax to immediately let Tom and Kyra know Alex is okay? Like, you could have got a good couple of episodes of angst out of that uncertainty.

"Do you want me to kill them?" Oh God yes please.

Why the fuck have they plugged the USB directly into the network rather than an isolated PC? 'Hur dur we checked it first', you literally believe Scorpia are smart enough to not be bluffing about the nebulous death threat but you don't think they could hide something on the hardware? Fuck's sake lads. Amateur hour.

Is this Home Secretary meant to be Suella Braverman? Or Priti Patel maybe lol. (Equal rights and all that, and if it had been a white male character I don't think I would have thought twice about the dialogue but having both your two new female characters be immediately proved wrong/ massively patronised/ blown up ain't hugely comfortable viewing tbh).

HOW MANY FICS INVOLVING ALEX GETTING FUCKED ON THAT BED HAVE JUST BEEN BORN?

"Are you suggesting we break into a dead man's house?" "It's not like he's going to be there." 😂

"He became a very close friend of mine." Fnar.

Omg making Alex read his father's love letters is hilarious.

Alex: you could have faked that news report Also Alex: handwriting can definitely never be faked (how is Alex even familiar with his dead father's handwriting? wouldn't recognise mine)

Ugh please stop trying to make Alex/Kyra happen.

Alex up the vent shaft. I hope they're sitting casually at the top going - you could have just taken the stairs love.

If he's climbing upwards, why is his hair dangling like he's upside down? Have they filmed this like 60's Batman, and he's just crawling along a horizontal set lol.

Alex never once asks about his mother does he. Given the shagger-John route they seem to have gone down you almost think Julia would be in a better shout of getting Alex to switch sides by claiming to be his mother.

And - yeah, Alex's recruitment just doesn't feel that convincing here. Adding Tom/Kyra/Jack so much to the mix has changed the feel of his life a lot, and TV verse Alex has had a lot less fucking over by the Department by this point too. And Rothman feels too creepy to be effectively convincing him of anything.

"I want you to meet your tutor." FUCK YES FINALLY 🙌 (may have rewound that part several times lol)

Episode 4 - Recruit

Nicaragua: 18 years ago OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING

Baby Yassen is adorable, I'm in love.

OH MY GOD THAT'S SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE FUCKIN SPIDER THING

OH MY GOD THE REVEAL OF HIM STANDING OVER THE SLEEPING ALEX I'M DEAD

(Ok, I'm calm again. For now. We continue.)

"You killed my uncle" - all the hundreds of ways this conversation has been written over the years and Yassen's just like lol get over it 😂 (here for it tbh)

Rothman: He's one of our best Yassen: One of? Bitch.

Yassen watching Alex train like 👀👀

"Did he ever tell you you're no fun?" Oh you want to have FUN with Yassen do you?

Yassen bitchslapping Alex to fuck, both hilarious and hot.

Oh, you want to be WET wet.

"Matteo's the guy with the blanket." Why is that so funny.

Omg Yassen stepping in to protect his boy and humiliating Nile in the process lol. And Alex doing what Yassen tells him, because of course he does 🥰

"This one is my responsibility" 🥰🥰

"What about love, friendship?" Alex has only known Yassen five minutes and is already down bad.

"Kind of lonely though, right?" Yeah, Yassen needs you at his side Alex, so step up and stop being a whiny little bitch about killing people.

Never get in the first taxi, rule one of espionage.

Yep, called it. Tom's like: I'll have my fucking tip back in that case.

This scene is so dark I have no fucking idea what's going on, I thought Nile had attacked Alex, but apparently not. Is Nile officially part of this exercise or not, it seems really unclear lol.

The power of friendship and sparklerabbits saves the day, apparently. Yawn.

Jesus, we really ATE with this ep, huh.

Episode 5 - Revenge

"Would you rather your arms around me, or my arms around you?" Way to make it creepy Tom you skeevy fuck.

"Can we focus please?" "We're multi-tasking."

Sure Grendel, rock up to the super sekkrit spy base in a massively conspicuous car why don't you?

"Yassen will give you everything you need." Oh I BET he will.

Feels sloppy them not removing the diffuser from the vent tbh.

"What does this say?" Alex hasn't inherited John's neat handwriting then lol. Alex leaning into him like that > me making noises only dogs can hear.

"You've put lockpick?" "I left my last one in Nile."

Ooh, suicide pill, nasty. Kind've pointless though, given they've been left with the evidence anyway.

Yassen in Alex's bedroom again, likely place for him to be.

"I don't want you to fail. I don't want you to die." 🥹💕🥰

Yalex roadtrip, let's goooo.

Disappointed they're not making Alex do the Entrapment infrared acrobatic sequence here lol.

If this is Yassen's idea of a date it definitely needs work.

So no surprise scorpions then? Can't have shit in Detroit Malta.

"Why? Why did she kill him?" Well taking things at face value here he was a highly murderous member of a terrorist organisation, so you know, kind've her job.

Yassen does like a casual lean, doesn't he.

Episode 6 - Target

Alex and Yassen have shacked up in London, hope there's only one bed.

Now they're in the back of a van, SO many opportunities for shagging, they're spoilt for choice.

Yassen's impressed look when Alex reels off all the security details, so proud of his boy.

"What happened to my mum?" Finally he wonders lol.

"And I'm good at it. You could be too." 🥹

"You think Alex killed him?" I mean, he was also there with a notorious assassin, so probably not, y'know.

Domestic Yassen cooking Alex's dinner and also cooking him a gun lol.

Smithers' "How I've missed you" ahahaha. Smithers/Kyra much better pairing tbh.

"He's actually quite good at this stuff." Smithers' little snort lmao

Time for Alex to be blacked up/ dunked in a teabag bath/ gussied up. Although he still looks exactly like Alex afterwards, which feels less useful lol.

"You love him, don't you?" Yassen loves him more. I have to say Alex had far more chemistry with Syl, and frankly for that matter with Tom. I really don't get the Kyra agenda.

"It's a dry hole." Alex's worst nightmare.

Is Alex going to look through Mrs Jones' knicker drawer?

Episode 7 - The Shot

Mrs Jones and her tall murderous hobbit son lol. Otto really looks about 58 here.

Hope they bill him for her fucked up fridge.

Is that Bath? Oh, it is.

Mrs Jones casually throwing Alex back into play lol. Maybe she can have a little revenge for him trying to shoot her.

"Everyone breaks into houses." Jack's face lol

Ewww put him down, you don't know where he's been (Yassen's bed, almost certainly)

"Remember they can't hurt you unless you invite them in." "That's vampires."

Yassen arguing in favour of going to rescue Alex MY HEART

"Sit down. I'm going to tell you a story. About your friend, John Rider." HOLY PLOTHOLE TIMELINE PATCHING BATMAN

"John was embedded inside Scorpia for three years." Not the only thing he was embedded in by the sounds of it.

Alex seems to be hallucinating again lol.

Yassen, maybe psychoanalysing your insane boss isn't the safest thing to be doing?

"It's quite mad Julia." Yassen really gives no shits omfg

"I know my place." Yes, at Alex's side.

I like how Julia thought telling Yassen she'd killed John would do anything other than piss him off lol.

Episode 8 - Invisible Sword

"But you do owe me a new fridge." LOLLLLLL

Crawley feeling like a spare part during this lift convo, hahaha

"Smithers, you can do me some kind of tracker, right?" "Yeah, if you promise to keep it on you this time."

Alex is like ohshit I'm gonna die fr

"Not for the agents. They undid their seatbelts." Eyyyyyyyy 👉

Aww they've given him a little baby assassin outfit, how cute.

Where's Yassen, has he just fucked off to the pub?

"For the head of Scorpia, you're a really bad liar."

Laughing at all the other Scorpia agents having to listen to this convo about their boss like we are not paid enough for this shit 😬

"Everyone else is getting what they want, let me have my cereal."

Protecting his boy to the last. Yassen really is purely on Alex's side, we love to see it.🥰

And OMG HE LIVESSSSSSSS 🙌🙌🙌🙌 (I voted yes in that poll, I had faith lol)

Well that was - far more fanservice than I dared hope for, after the meagre pickings we got in the first two series. Yalex supremacy to the motherfucking end, let's go.

[bcolfanfic]

If you're still accepting young vets au requests - would you be up for exploring more of how they fell in love when they were in the service? Did Buck have a Marge at home? Were they both 'out'? etc etc

Thanks!

standard disclaimer that i am not an expert on the us air force or the afghanistan war- ive done a little research so i have a basic grasp on things but not much. i know because my brother was in iraq that he wasn't just gone for years at a time like the 100th was in wwii which makes this is a littttleee more complicated. but here goes.

in my mind, they enlisted at around the same time and met in basic.

and then after basic they both got sent to the same tech school in texas. this is where bucky did his EOD training stuff. in my head gale's "outside of flying thing" was security forces.

they became fast friends in basic, and then only got closer when they got to texas. maybe gale was originally going to get sent to a different base for tech school, and poor bucky was quite bummed about that!

but then things got moved around and how happy he was that gale *would* be going with to texas made him a little hmmm. maybe this is something i should unpack! not now though!

samesies for gale. he's excited that he gets to go to texas with his buddy. if there's something nagging at the back of his mind about why exactly he's so excited, he ignores it.

according to the internet the dorms are 3 ppl per, so maybe that's where they meet curt and become buddies with him.

gale and bucky start getting closer and well, curt is gay too. he has the spidey senses.

but poor gale and bucky are uh not as in touch with their sexuality and about jump out of their skin when curt ribs them a little saying if they ever want some SpAcE they can tell him to scram.

i don't think it really goes much farther, conversation wise or otherwise, till they're overseas.

esp bc bucky has to finish his EOD training in florida so he does have to, much to his chagrin, leave gale for a bit. they stay in touch, which is much easier with today's technology, but in my head this is when gale and curt get quite close.

gale does have a girl at home, but he breaks up with her in the ten day leave between tech school and leaving the country.

he tells her it's because things are really volatile and she's a good girl who he doesn't want to force to wait around for him.

which isn't a lie per say. but if he leaves out that the more late night talks with curt he has the more he thinks he might be gay well. that's his own secret.

the buckys meet again at their first deployment. in my head its not straight to afghanistan (though maybe for curt it is) and they're in africa first.

very sweet reunion- they missed each other. and now looking at his face on the other side of all those late night talks with curt, gale is *really* like oh. oh.

one night not long after they get to africa they're talking and gale tells him he broke up with his girl. bucky is a little surprised and when he prods gale gets a nervous and just blurts out that he thinks he might be gay.

bucky, though he's a little scared by labels, has been involved with people uh ~across genders~, so he tries to make him feel less nerved out about it. tells him its nothing to be ashamed of etc etc. and then question of the hour, can i ask what the 1+1=2 here was y'know?

sweet gale just looks at him all wide eyed. and bucky knows, knew before he asked him the question.

*fade to black*

[edenesth]

Undying Bonds (Part 2)

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem!reader, Seonghwa x fem!reader

AU: zombie apocalypse au

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: What could be worse than being separated from the love of your life in a zombie apocalypse? Hongjoong was forced to leave you behind with his friend, Seonghwa, as he ventures out alone to search for the rest of his missing group members. Will Hongjoong be successful in his solo mission to find his members? Will he be able to return to you unscathed? And what happens when you're stuck with his caring best friend, who is hopelessly in love with you, for too long?

Part 1 | Masterlist | Part 3

"Hyung..? Seonghwa hyung, is that you?" Your head snaps up to lock eyes with Seonghwa in an instant.

I know that voice, isn't that..?

"Mingi?" Squeezing past the taller male in front of you, you scrambled to unlock the door until your friend placed his hand over yours to stop you for a moment. You frowned at him questioningly, "What is it? That's our friend out there," He hesitated, "We gotta make sure it really is safe first. Once we open that door, there's no turning back."

Reluctantly, you let him pull your hands off the door handle, "Mingi-yah, are you alone? Where are the others? Are there any undead around?" Your heart raced with anxiety while waiting for the younger male's response.

"Hyung, I'm alone and I have no idea where the rest are. I managed to escape and hide somewhere by myself earlier. And I assure you it's clear out here, you know I'd never dare to come out here otherwise."

You nodded quickly in agreement, Mingi's known to be a coward so there was no way he'd have the courage to come out on his own if there really were any zombies loitering about.

Grasping onto your friend's arm, you pleaded with your eyes for him to open the door for your poor younger friend who must be scared out of his wits stranded outside, "Seonghwa, please. We must let him in!" The corners of your lips tugged upwards when he finally gave in and made quick work to unlock the door.

You felt your heart wrench at the sight of the tall giant with red-rimmed and puffy eyes staring back at you both with trembling lips, tears threatening to spill. You wasted no time pulling him inside by the wrist while Seonghwa secured the door lock immediately.

Mingi broke down as soon as you sat him down at the closest chair available to check on him for any injuries that needed treating or worse, any bites hiding around somewhere. Seonghwa apologised to the sobbing boy for refusing him entry initially and explained why it was essential, guiltily rubbing his head comfortingly while you fussed over him.

"It's okay, hyung. I understand why you did what you did, it's what I would have done as well. I was just really scared to have been alone for the past few hours. You have no idea how glad I was when I spotted this place, I could tell there were people inhabiting the store but knowing it's the two of you just made me feel so much better."

You felt tears forming in your own eyes at his words, "Oh god, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. You did such a great job, Mingi-yah. You're safe with us now, alright?"

You pulled his big form into your arms the best that you could and let out a breath of air in relief, there were no serious injuries or any bites on him, only a few scratches here and there that should heal themselves in time.

Holding your friend close to you, you only wished there was a way you could let Hongjoong know that Mingi was safe and that he was with you now so that your boyfriend could worry about one less person and return to you sooner.

Seonghwa kept watch near the entrance to be alert just in case any of the other members who find themselves in similar situations as Mingi will be immediately rescued once spotted.

After the younger male eventually calms down from his breakdown, you pushed some hair out of his face before biting nervously onto your bottom lip, "Mingi, does that mean you… didn't catch sight of Hongjoong at all while making your way here?"

Mingi shakes his head regretfully, "No, I didn't see him at all. Did he get separated from the two of you as well?" You immediately explained to him that the leader was initially with you until the decision was made for him to venture out alone instead.

He nodded solemnly, "Sounds about right, I know there's no way in hell Hongjoong hyung would let go of you unless knowing you're truly safe."

What he said only made you further worry and miss your boyfriend. As if noticing the effects of his words, Mingi quickly reassured you that Hongjoong will definitely come back safely with the others soon.

Seonghwa's eyes scanned over you to make sure you were alright, watching as you attempted to distract yourself from any thoughts of the leader by making light conversation with Mingi instead. Despite your efforts to conceal your true feelings of misery, your longing for his best friend was unfortunately quite apparent to him.

That only made Seonghwa feel more conflicted than ever, Hongjoong was one of his closest friends whom he respected greatly. He remembered the moment he found out both of you had gotten together, his heart completely shattered at the revelation but he couldn't deny that he was glad it was the leader you fell for. It comforted him to know that at least Hongjoong would treat you right. Better his best friend than some other scumbag he couldn't trust.

He suddenly felt unsure about his initial intentions of wanting to make his feelings known to you. His best friend was somewhere out there, risking his life to find all their friends and yet here he was, trying to make a move on the poor leader's girlfriend instead.

What kind of a friend was he even? His actions would do nothing but create unnecessary tension between the couple.

The sudden realisation of his own selfish wants made him take his eyes off the female in an instant.

This isn't right, I can't do this to Hongjoong or her. They both mean too much to me, I can't hurt them like that.

With that thought, Seonghwa decides to give up on any attempts of confessing his feelings and instead, focus on doing his best to protect you in Hongjoong's stead until the leader returns.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong tried to catch his breath after closely escaping a bunch of zombies around the area he last caught a glance of Yeosang and Wooyoung running towards when the group broke apart.

It was an abandoned apartment building.

Of course, those idiots would choose someplace this huge to hide in.

The leader sighed to himself, not at all excited to search for the two members in this specific location.

The thought of his friends only made the weight of his responsibilities as a leader feel heavier on his shoulders. He prays that all of his friends are safe somewhere while he searches for them.

He wasn't as worried for members like Yunho and Jongho who are able to survive just fine. In fact, they were probably more capable than Hongjoong himself if he were to be completely honest. It was the ones like Mingi and San that concerned him the most, lord knows those kids require infinite amounts of care and protection. Without him and Seonghwa by their side, he wondered if they even made it out alive.

Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think of the possibilities at all. He can only hope that the weaker ones managed to escape with one of the stronger members.

Deciding it was no use to torture himself with endless worries, he quickly felt around his body to secure his weapons and the self-made armour that his beloved put on him to protect against potential zombie bites instead. The thought of you instantly gave him the strength to continue on, longing to return to your side already.

The last memory of you desperately crying out his name as he left you behind with Seonghwa flashed through his mind, causing his heart to clench in despair. It's only been hours but god, does he miss you already. He recalled how it took everything in him to not run back to you at that moment.

He hoped you weren't doing too badly without him, he knows Seonghwa would take good care of you.

Gripping his trusty crowbar tightly, he stealthily made his way into the building in hopes of not alerting any zombies that could be lurking around the area.

After what felt like an eternity, Hongjoong wondered to himself if the younger members were even here at all. There were no signs of any humans at all, let alone those two being here.

Just as he sighed in defeat and turned around to head towards the exit, he picked up on what sounded like muffled whimpers coming from a certain direction.

Without wasting another minute, he held his crowbar close and carefully stepped towards where he thought the sounds were coming from. Stopping in front of a unit, he pressed his ear against the door to confirm if what he heard came through this place.

Grasping the knob, he turned it slowly and pushed the door open. Wincing at the loud creak it created, he feels as though his heart was about to beat out of his chest in fear of what he'll find inside.

He didn't know what to expect but what he didn't expect was the sight of Yeosang and Wooyoung tied to one chair each.

Hongjoong's eyes widened and just as he took one step forward, he froze upon feeling the metal barrel of a gun press against his head from behind.

"Stay right there, pretty boy."

Ah, shit.

Thank you for reading! Do share your thoughts on the fic, I'd be happy to hear what you think. Will work on Part 3 soon!

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[fuckyeahashes]

Ok I haven’t made a theory post in a LONG time but this seriously needs to be made because a lot of people are getting upset about the info the daycare attendant and genuinely thinking he hates his job and hates kids ect. This theory also builds off of really solid theories mattpat has brought forth about who the player character is.

More under the cut!

Ok so mattpat has theorized the player character is Cassie’s dad, and there’s a lot of evidence to support it. Watch his videos playing Help Wanted 2 to see why. Also, plenty of animatronics acknowledge the character as seemingly knowing and identifying the character as this as well, along with characters with dubious sentience like the new Carnie animatronic. This means that sun is interacting with the player character (an adult) and knows it. we literally have evidence from Ruin (Cassie’s first hand experience) that the daycare attendant is a fantastic caretaker. As well as the Daycare Attendant interacting with an actual child, Gregory in Security Breach. Sun clearly loves kids! So why did he treat the player character so poorly?

First of all, the game is marketed as showing you different jobs that fazbear employees do. There are three exceptions, arts and crafts with Sun, DJ Music Man’s Party Pass, Carnie game, and the log ride, but the rest are very clearly jobs the employees have to do, which make these stand out.

I think all 4 of these are jobs as well.

I think the last three are all the same kind of job, actually. I think they are playtesting! Two of those jobs have distinct problems with them, and we KNOW for certain the Log Ride is shut down, and we actually get the see the ride go off on “unapproved routes” as Foxy puts it. The DJ game features a Party Pass we did not know was offered, with the overhead stating that the the DJ’s reaction to disappointment still being workshopped. I think the DJ Party Pass and Log Ride games are being playtested to get them ready for public use again.

The Carnie game features an animatronic we’ve NEVER seen before, in an outside area. The pizzaplex is an inside area, and Fazbear inc is more than happy to repurpose animatronics at any moment with plenty to choose from, so what gives?

We know from the last Help Wanted that the pizzaplex hosts a fall event every year that is outside, and last year we didn’t see this animatronic there. Meaning this is a BRAND NEW animatronic for a BRAND NEW carnival game. Also, Fall Fest won’t start til the DLC comes out for Help Wanted 2. Meaning that it would be completely normal for them to be playtesting this future carnival game and it’s animatronic to get it ready for Fallfest!

And that leaves Sun’s Arts and Crafts. We know how he speaks with employees due to him “giving instructions” on how to fix the carousel, he does NOT seem to like them. He shreds and shits on your art when you give it to him, when he has kid’s art hung up in his room, and kids do NOT draw well or or are they famous for following instructions. When you do arts and crafts with Sun, it is also SUSPICIOUSLY dark, too dark for it to be open hours for the daycare, AND he says the lights will go off soon. Moon doesn’t do his security rounds until after hours, and moon doesn’t come out in the daycare hours anymore. So what gives?

I think that doing Arts and Crafts with Sun once the pizzaplex closes is literally just another job. We know from how he behaved when he saw Gregory that he goes a little whacko without someone to watch (he literally hovered over Gregory and basically begged him to play a game with him.) Without someone to occupy his mind with and do something with he probably starts eating the wallpaper. I mean he is SUCH a high energy animatronic. I don’t think it’s much of a jump to say they have to hire someone after hours to keep him from going insane.

With his aforementioned distaste of Fazbear employees and needing someone to occupy his attention, his behavior starts to make perfect sense.

“But he calls the player character a kid!” He’s a daycare attendant, I bet he calls everyone a kid. It might have been derogatory too, he only does that when he is mad at you. Weird place to call out someone for being a child if you mean it in a nice way.

“But he puts the player character in time out!” I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me with a straight face that Sun wouldn’t try to put an adult in time out. He would. He definitely would. We all know this.

In conclusion—- there might not be a Daycare Attendant Handler in the day, but there DEFINITELY is one at night, and may god help that person

[skaikruswan]

I walk beside you - Chapter 2

Summary: “I have not heard these words in ages,” a deep, male voice says, and before you can answer, you wake up.Your dreams start changing once you realize that you’re not alone as you think. Who is this man and why does he know you? How do you know him? 

Pairing: Dream / Morpheus x reader 

Chapter 1

AO3: May everyone who leaves a kudo have a wonderful dream. 

Chapter 2: 

Morpheus leads you to a more secluded area, his hand still secure around your wrist, feeling life drum underneath your veins.

They are approaching a small park, and he notices you drag your feet as your eye the trees with suspicion.

“There will be no storm.” You visibly deflate after his reassurance, still clutching the bag you’re still holding as you let out a small sigh. They stop in front of an empty bench, and he releases you.

“I have questions,” you declare, your eyes gleaming with curiosity and determination, and Morpheus feels his lips quirk. He knows from experience that confronting you in the waking world brings better results than confronting you in your dreams. Yet he’s relieved by your inquisitive attitude, and simply stands still as you walk around him. Curious, determined, and brave; he has always liked these qualities in you.

“I will answer.” He waits until you’re standing in front of him, your eyes narrowed as you seem to study him. He does the same, taking in the features he’s known for ages. You always resemble yourself, although some details may change, yet he drinks you in like a wanderer in the desert would drink in an oasis. It has been too long.

“Who are you? What are you?” You’ve added the second question a heartbeat later, and Morpheus tilts his head in an appraising manner. You usually deduce rather quickly that he’s not human, while some of your incarnations had chosen to ignore the truth, to stay in denial. He’s relieved that you chose not to.

“I am Lord Morpheus, King of dreams and ruler of the nightmare realm,” he states, and watches as your eyes widen as you take a step back.

“Nice to meet you, your Highness,” you reply, your voice a mix between polite and amused, and he shakes his head as he watches you curtsy, your knees wobbling. Adorable. You’ve always been able to amuse him and brighten his day, and this is no exception. He inclines his head with a smile, acknowledging your curtsy.

“I suppose you have more questions,” he suggests, and you bite your lip as you seem deeply in thought. He doesn’t push further, giving you the time you require.

“I have a feeling you know me,” you say, and he nods. He could fill hours by replying to this simple statement. “I am sorry, but I don’t know you.” There is genuine sympathy in your apology, and something in his stomach flutters.

“You never do. No incarnation of you has ever remembered me.” Every time he finds you, you have no memories of their time together. He still hasn’t made up his mind whether this is a blessing or a curse. If you and he had been close, it leaves him torn asunder to see you again but oblivious to their bond, showing no reaction to a shared joke or memory. If it had ended on bad terms, it is a relief to know that each meeting is a clean slate.

You have rejected him, and one rejection has stung, a small part of the poison still throbbing.

                                           649 BC.

“Look what my future spouse has sent me,” you cheer, pointing at the several chests filled with jewelry, cloth, and spices. “In the mansion we will live in awaits so much more. I shall want for nothing.”

“Impressive.” Morpheus has always known you to be ambitious, even little vain, but it still surprises him how quickly these material gifts have won you over. You’re spinning in front of him, wearing only the finest silk.

“Blessed be the gods for allowing this union.” Morpheus tries not to roll his eyes at your statement and to keep his face impassive. Humanity keeps on inventing new deities to worship and thank for, not realizing that they themselves decide their fate.

“How lucky I am to have captured the attention of a god,” you say in a reverent tone. Greek mythology has identified him as Morpheus, God of dreams, and while this only one of many monikers humanity has given him, he has grown fond of it.

“How lucky I am to have captured your attention,” he repeats, and notices the flush on your cheeks. After he had revealed himself, you had been coy, making advances and rejections in equal measure. It had been an almost maddening play.

“But mortals are not meant to capture the hearts of immortals. Those who do always share one miserable fate.” He had seen it coming, had noticed your attention for him waning. Your dreams have been filled by your new spouse and the riches you soon shall possess. While he should be above it, it is still irritating and demeaning to be replaced so easily.

“I shall take my leave then,” he announces, giving you a moment to object, to change your mind. You don’t.

You hold a piece of his soul, and he has never found the strength to truly punish you. Yet he feels no regret as he removes his boon from you, never entering your life or your dreams again.

“How often do we meet?” you ask, sitting on the bench and eating your snack, your eyes glued to him.

“Sometimes it only takes decades before you come back, sometimes centuries or even more. It is a mystery, even to me.” He and Lucienne have tried to find any indication for your reincarnation, if there are any factors. So far, they have found no answer. You have been born poor or rich, with a big or a small family, you have lived a short or long life, you’ve been content or wanting for more. You’ve been born into peace or war. While some personal traits seem to be common, each incarnation is truly unique.

“Do you stay?” you continue asking, pressing your lips together as you realize how ambiguous this question is. He raises an eyebrow and watches as you evade his gaze, playing with your hair.

“If you want me to,” he vows softly. He would never force himself on you. He treasures every moment with you, knowing that his time with you can end at any moment. Sometimes you’ve spent decades together, sometimes only months. It always ends with the same fierce agony.

                                   1404 AC.

Destruction can be found everywhere, and Morpheus knows that his sibling maintains a keen eye on the many battles erupting around the world. Many people dream of peace, seeking refuge in their dreams as their waking life is so often plagued by war, famine, or cut short in an instant.

He locates you in a destroyed building, where you’re hoping against the odds that the marauding, blood-thirsty soldiers will leave, and that you, your family, and friends will live another day.

Your wish would not be granted.

He finds you on the verge of consciousness, your body fighting for survival while you become weaker by the second.

With a gentle touch, he brings you to his realm. You beam at him, standing in a village that has not been ruined, surrounded by people who are dead in the waking world, your expression hale and hearty instead of grim and gaunt.

“Dream!” you say with a soft smile, “thanks for bringing me here. I have missed this.” You spin around, basking in this fantasy of a safe, content world. Morpheus lets sorrow cloud his gaze for a second. Despite the harsh reality you’re living in, you have never lost hope, never let loss and pain twist you into someone bitter. Your warm optimism is what has intrigued him the most.  

“I have missed you.” After your quiet admission the villagers disappear, leaving them alone in the middle of the square.

You step forward until you reach him, and Morpheus takes your hand, pulling it towards his mouth so he can press a featherlight kiss on it. You let out a small giggle, and how he wishes that he could share your joy.

In the waking world, his sister puts a comforting hand on his shoulder as he kneels in front of your pale form, your chest barely moving. Losing you is always the same excruciating pain that seems to hollow out his immortal heart.

“I will miss you, my love.” The dream disappears as you wake up to take your last breath. You cough, blood smearing over your lips as you look past him, looking at his sister. They only have seconds left. He is never ready for the last moment.

“I am sorry for leaving so soon,” you whisper, reaching out to squeeze his hand, your touch so weak he barely feels it.

Morpheus closes his eyes, allowing his sister to take you to the Sunless Lands. He hears the rustle of the feathers and knows that you’re gone.

A tear runs down his cheek, falling on you, your lifeless eyes staring up at him.

“That’s good to know,” you say a little breathlessly, rocking up and down on the balls of your feet. “How do you find me?” The most important question, the one you always ask.

“You always share the same dream.”

“The path before me doesn’t frighten me, I want to forever walk beside you,” you interrupt him, saying the sentence that seems to be edged into your very soul, and he nods.

He remembers the first time he had found you.

        A long time ago, before humanity measured time.

The barriers in his realm have not yet been fixed, and humans, in their youthful curiosity, like to explore and have often wandered into each other’s dreams. It has not yet been a reason for concern, so he let his dreams and nightmares only intervene if strictly necessary.

“I can’t believe my eyes,” an unknown voice says, and Morpheus turns around to see a mortal stand in the center of his palace.

“What are you doing here?” he wonders. Instead of worry, he feels mild intrigue as he observes the mortal, detecting no evil intentions. Wandering into the middle of his realm is no small feat.

“I was exploring and kind of ended up here?” you explain, your mouth agape as you take in your surroundings. He cannot blame you for your curiosity and he will not punish you, but you do not belong here.

“I wish you nice dreams.” With a flick of his fingers, he sends to the confines of your own dream.

Instead of a quiet dismissal, you must have understood it as an invitation, for he finds you again in the palace the next night, conversing with his raven.

“Wonders upon wonders,” you marvel as you notice him approaching, your smile radiant. “Your companion tells me that you rule over these lands.” You sink down to one knee in respect before gracefully rising.

“My companion talks too much.” He gives his raven a sharp glare, and watches as it flies away, leaving him alone with the intruder.

“Let me be clear. This place is not for mortals.” He lets a little darkness fill his gaze, expecting fear to flitter over your features. Instead, he recognizes astonishment and a little awe.

“Until next time,” you reply, your lips drawn to a smirk as you refuse to back down. Foolish, brave mortal.

It has become a game of sorts, with you sneaking into his palace and him finding you. Conversation has started to flow, and every time he has become more intrigued by you.

“My Lord, it is almost too easy to sneak into your palace,” you taunt, sticking your tongue at him. No mortal has ever dared such behavior. It’s refreshing and shows how familiar you have become with him.

“I shall raise the stakes then,” he promises. Each dream offers a new challenge, and you face it with the same vigor and determination. Each dream brings you closer, with you becoming a lodestar in the endless firmament of his existence.

The Dreaming is no longer enough, and he has sought you in the waking world. Appearing in the flesh in front of you and hearing you scream before throwing yourself into his arms is a memory he shall never forget.

“The path before me doesn’t frighten me, I want to forever walk beside you.” You and he are lying in a meadow, your fingers gliding through his hair, making him almost purr like a cat. Your declaration, full of longing and love, resonates deep within him, and he brushes his thumb over your cheek.

“Stay with me.”

He notices that his attention is demanded elsewhere, but he is loath to go. During his imprisonment, he had been tortured by the prospect that he missed an incarnation, and even now he wonders if there is one version of you he shall never meet.

“I must leave,” he says, and watches as your face falls.

“We will see each other again?” you say, half suggestion and half hope, and his heart warms. He reaches out to tug a wayward strand of your hair behind your ear, hearing you inhale sharply.

“Meet me in my palace,” he dares, placing the bait in front of you, and watches as you clench your jaw in determination.

“Challenge accepted, my Lord.”

[excelsi-or]

summoned (pt. 3)

hey guys! hope you're all doing well :) time feels like it's just slipping away a bit right now. my goal is to finish posting this in the next two weeks. xx

pairing: woozi x fem!reader/fem!OC

w.c. 2.5k

part 1 | part 2

“Human.”

Jihoon stands at her bedside. It’s nearing 11 AM and she’s still sleeping peacefully.

“Human.”

She still doesn’t wake.

“Human.”

She jolts upright, looking around before her eyes settle on him. “What’s going on?” With unseeing eyes, she pats the bedside table for her glasses.

Once they’re on her face, she squints at him. “What is happening?”

Seems the human is awake now.

“Don’t you have work to be going to?”

Her suspicion turns to disbelief. “You woke me because I’m going to be late for a 9-to-5 I don’t have?”

“You have meetings and a home and you don’t have a job?”

“I have a job. Just not one with a set schedule, Mr. Demon. I’m self-employed.” 

That just sounds like she’s made up her job.

While checking her phone, she pushes her glasses to rub sleep from her eyes. He wonders why she continues scrolling as she does this.

When Jihoon doesn’t leave, she eases around him to get to the ensuite, phone still in hand, other hand adjusting her glasses.

Jihoon trails after her, halting when she holds a hand up in his face. Then she shuts the door. Unbothered, he leans against the doorframe, his eyes focused on the wood grain.

“I’m not going to pee until I know you’re in the living room. We can discuss whatever you need to discuss later.”

Despite now being bothered, he complies with the request. Unfortunately, the next portion of his plan requires her help. Jihoon stares at the pile of books he’d gone through over the last few hours since sunrise. When she doesn’t emerge right away, he puts the books away. She has a few books she’s never read before, and while some seemed immature and too romantic for his taste, some of the mystery ones were alright.

All of them kept him wildly entertained until he woke her.

She appears in the doorway dressed in a soft yellow dress, no longer donning glasses and her hair brushed.

“Now, what was so urgent that you needed to wake me…” she stops in her hallway and stares at her door, “... up?” She tilts her head, squinting at her doorway. “Why is my door wide open?”

Jihoon moves to her side to admire his handiwork. “Don’t worry. No one can see inside.”

“But it’s open.”

“No one even knows your door is there.”

“I specifically asked you to take the key if you were going to leave and close my door. Not fuck around with it and make it–why can’t people see inside?”

Jihoon motions for her to follow. At her doorway, she stops. He stands across from her in her hallway.

“How do I know this isn’t some soul sucking exercise?”

Jihoon sighs. “As I told you yesterday, I will only take your soul if you exchange it.”

More squinting. She’s extremely suspicious this morning. “How do I know this isn’t some pain inducing exercise that will force me to want to give you my soul to make the pain stop?”

Impressed at the suggestion, Jihoon crosses his arms. “Are you sure you aren’t a demon? That is a wonderful idea.” He deflates a little. “Unfortunately, I didn’t think of it. You’re just going to have to trust me.”

“You’re a demon. Here because I summoned you and won’t trade my soul for anything. I don’t trust you.” She goes to the kitchen. “Just change my door back to normal, please.”

Annoyed that she won’t appreciate his skill, Jihoon undoes the securities he’d put around her apartment. When he steps back inside, she’s pouring milk over her cereal.

She doesn’t offer him breakfast.

“How do you know I undid everything properly and didn’t actually create that soul sucking door?”

“A feeling.”

Odd answer. “What kind of feeling?”

She glances over at him; the spoon slips out of her mouth. “Just a feeling.” When she sits at the table, her eyes dart to the empty chair across from her, an invitation to join her. “Now, I’m assuming you woke me up because you needed something. Besides my soul, because I’m not giving you that.”

Jihoon suspects that this human is manipulating him, but he can’t work out how she’s doing it. Or why. So, he sits. “Before we discuss, can you do one thing?”

“Which would be?” She continues munching.

“Give me your hand.”

“We agreed no touching.”

“Only this once and I’m asking your permission.”

She’s still hesitant to comply.

Jihoon holds his hand out across the table, palm up. “I just need to check something.”

Her right hand drops into his as she continues eating. She winces at the warmth, but he closes his eyes.

If there was a demon possessing her, he would have known. He was hoping that her passing through the door would exorcise her just in case. And they wouldn’t have to do this. When he pulses a burning heat through her hand, she jolts back in surprise, a curse on her lips.

Her spoon clatters into the bowl. Immediately, she’s up and running cold water over her hand. “What a reminder that I’m an idiot.” Blisters are forming on her palm. On her drawing hand.

“So… now that it seems you’ve decommissioned me for a while,” Jihoon can hear the loud unspoken curse word she puts there, “what the hell do you want?”

Jihoon turns his body her way, unbothered by her change in tone. “I need a human to do some of my bidding for me.”

“That is the worst idea ever. And you’ve reminded me not to do anything you ask.”

“You haven’t even heard what I’m going to ask of you yet.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll probably be possessed or murdered. Or both. You also ruined my drawing hand.”

“I was checking to see if you were already possessed.”

Frustrated, she finishes her breakfast before returning to her seat. With food, and because she’s usually reasonable, she’s prepared to at least listen. “Explain better.”

Jihoon explains what had happened the night before, excluding his discussion with Seokmin. While he talks, she bandages her hand. He’s mildly impressed at how prepared she seems to be, even having gauze in her kitchen drawers to wrap her hand.

“Are you even listening to me?” Jihoon asks.

She frowns as she tucks the end of the gauze in. “What makes you think that I’m not?”

“Your reaction seems too calm for what I’m telling you.”

She looks him directly in the eye. “You’re telling me that some humans could be possessed by demons and turning the energy of the planet dark. The angels thought the demons were rallying to take over Earth, so they’ve started preparing to bring about the End Days.” Her eyes skim over him. “You appear to be a pretty neutral demon who would be content living on Earth if he could.” She lifts her eyebrows. “That’s the gist, isn’t it?”

Jihoon had noticed that she wanted to say more, but she was reading more into him than he liked. “And you’re not freaked out by it?”

She shrugs. “Disappointed, maybe? That the angels are actually just as set on ruining humankind as demons are. But freaked out? No.” It seems Jihoon needs her to further explain her reaction. “I have a literal demon sitting in my kitchen. One who refuses to leave me alone even though I told you that I am not willing to hand my soul over. And I now realize that possession is taking over my soul without my permission.” A small smile cracks her face. “So, you have the means to take my soul but don’t.” She waves her hand dismissively at his continuous staring. “I have a best friend who believes that aliens are real. This is typical Saturday dinner conversation.”

“Except I’m not talking about imaginary aliens.”

“What? Demons don’t believe in science?”

Jihoon shakes his head in confusion.

“It is statistically impossible that humans are the only living life forms in the universe. Plus, how can you not believe in aliens when you exist?”

“I’m real.”

“What? Angels and demons aren’t told whether aliens exist?”

“Do you get this nonsense from that friend of yours?”

“Insult Hansol one more time and I won’t help you.”

Jihoon’s retort is on his tongue but then hears her words. “You’re going to help me.”

“I’m decommissioned, thanks to you.” She waves her bandaged hand between them. “I gotta fill my time somehow.”

“You are not telling that human anything,” Jihoon argues on their way to meet Hansol at a café.

Jihoon insisted on coming along and she had countered that he could just stay home or go do something else.

“I can’t.” He looked as if he was trying not to sigh. “I have to go with you.”

Something about how being summoned required him to be around her at all times except for in the dead of night. It was why he was able to leave, but had woken her up at 11 AM. As well as needing her help, he’d been getting bored.

“What ridiculous rules,” she scoffed. “Then I’m telling Hansol what you are, because I don’t need him spreading rumours that I have a boyfriend and refuse to tell him about it.”

‘Who cares if he tells your friends a harmless lie?”

“My nosy friends are harmless but annoying. So, Hansol has to know.”

“I’m going to have to exorcise him first.”

“Hansol’s not possessed.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my friend.”

“Surprisingly, I don’t trust you just as much as you don’t trust me.”

“I think I’m the one in control here, Demon. I’m pretty sure there are other souls for you to take.”

“You only think you’re in control, human.” Jihoon flags another demon across the street. The woman glances at him, nods her head, but doesn’t stop. “I think I have significantly more power.”

“You say this and yet you’re here with a soul you refuse to take.”

“If you really need to share it with other humans who you think will believe you, I require that they be exorcised first.” He holds his hands up to stop her protest. “For your safety and mine.”

There’s suspicion on her face. Which Jihoon understands. But he needs to maintain some semblance of control. For some reason, the human is right; she has an odd amount of power in this situation.

Hansol is sat in the back corner of the café, which Jihoon recognizes must be their favourite spot. He just senses it when he sees her face light up. That could also be from seeing Hansol and the smell of food, but Jihoon doesn’t think so.

They have to weave through chairs and tables to reach him. As she drops her bag onto the floor, she says, “Sol, hold out your left hand.”

Hansol’s brow furrows, but he does as directed. “Why?” The furrow turns to a full-on frown as Jihoon grabs his hand. When their hands flame red, Hansol jumps back.

With a sigh, she pulls Hansol to the café bathroom.

“What the actual fuck was that?” Hansol demands. He stares at his blistering skin. “What did he do to me? What did you do to me?”

She turns the faucet to cold. Then, she shoves his hand under the water while simultaneously explaining the truth about Jihoon.

Hansol blinks at the onslaught of information. He decides to compartmentalize it and process it later. “And my hand?”

She realizes she doesn’t have any clean bandages to wrap his hand in. “He insisted that he exorcise every human I tell.”

Hansol doesn’t even bother to process that information. He nods. “Makes sense.”

She holds up her right bandaged hand. “And he recruited me to do something for him.”

“And wrecked your drawing hand.”

“Hence why I told you to hold out your left.”

“That also makes sense.”

She pats her pockets for her wallet. “Just gonna run next door to get you actual bandages. Stay here.”

Hansol salutes her and she hurries towards the door. Then she feels an uncomfortable pull above her belly button. She looks down at her waist and then feels something over her shoulder. 

Jihoon is there.

With an exasperated look on his face.

“I told you that I can’t leave your side except for in the dead night.”

“Did you do that?”

“No, the summoning that you did did that,” he huffs.

She looks around him at their now unmanned table. “What about Hansol’s things?”

“No one is going to steal anything.”

“How do you know?”

“You can tell whether I’ve rectified your door, yet you can’t tell that the humans here aren’t going to steal your stuff?” This human is a pain in his demon derrière. 

“I told you that was a feeling. I don’t get a feeling for humans. They’re complicated and temporary.”

Jihoon doesn’t have time to unpack that sentence. “So, what do you expect me to do?”

Now, they’re blocking foot traffic at the door, and she seems uninclined to move. Jihoon sighs. He tosses a hand back in the direction of the table and she watches him do it. Satisfied, she leads them out the door.

“How do you actually know? You can’t keep telling me it’s ‘just a feeling’.”

“And you can’t keep assuming it’s because I’m possessed. You’ve already done some magic voodoo ​on me.” The convenience store next door has the bandages she needs and a small washcloth. While Jihoon returns to the table, she pushes back through the washroom door.

Hansol tucks his phone away when she enters. His fingers are turning red, because the water is so cold.

Of course he would follow her directions to a T.

She quickly shuts off the water and uses the washcloth to dab at his blistered hand before wrapping it. “There we go. Now, we match.”

“So many other ways we could be matching besides burned hands by the devil,” Hansol points out.

“Just a demon actually. Not the Devil. And if we could match any other way besides this today, I would have taken it.” She realizes that maybe she should prep Hansol. “Before we go back out there, I warn that he’s a little temperamental, but he doesn’t talk much. Don’t feel intimidated by him. Feel free to leave if you need.” She shrugs as they head back out. “Not that you ever really feel that intimidated by anyone.”

At the table, Jihoon is flipping through her sketchbook. Meaning the demon had gone through her bag to find it and then had the audacity to put it on the table for everyone to see. Out of her periphery, she notices Hansol watching to see how she’ll react. 

She decides to ignore Jihoon.

The demon doesn’t look up when they open their laptops and begin discussing all the projects they’re working on, separately and together. Jihoon actually seems to be analyzing every drawing she’s ever done in that sketchbook.

Four hours, two pots of tea, and a sandwich each later, she and Hansol pack up their things. When Jihoon had started tapping his fingers on the table, clearly bored, she’d tossed a pencil at him to draw in the sketchbook. Ever since, he’s been madly scribbling in it, ignoring every conversation that she and Hansol had had. Even the one when Hansol asked her if she’d heard about the pending alien attack he’d heard about and how he thought it was ridiculous.

She still isn’t clear on whether Hansol actually believes in aliens or if he just brings it up to make her laugh. 

Outside the café, Hansol asks if she’s coming for dinner that night. “Seungkwan won’t shut up about how you don’t visit anymore.”

She snorts. “He knows I’m still working on my solo show.”

“He said that you should come over and work at the house again.”

“And we,” she motions between them, “agreed that we don’t get anything done if Seungkwan’s around.” She shakes her head with a smile and gives Hansol a one-armed hug in goodbye. “I’ll be over around 7, maybe 8? The boys are coming too, yes?”

“Seungkwan’s making it a big ordeal.” Hansol rolls his eyes affectionately. “But everyone said they’d come. Soonyoung hyung wants input on stage design for his next show, and Jeonghan hyung wants to talk about decorations for the wedding.”

Her eyes narrow. “Do I really want to go then?”

“Yah, if you don’t come, Seungkwan will complain for the next week. Do it for me.” Hansol waves a bandaged goodbye. He even smiles at Jihoon, who looks deadpanned back. “See you both later.”

She leads Jihoon back towards home.

“You sure you two aren’t dating?”

She chuckles. “Even demons don’t believe a girl and boy can be friends? I told you that Hansol and I mainly just work together nowadays.”

“He’s in a lot of your photos.”

“He’s my best friend.”

Jihoon’s mind flicks to the photos in her home. He can pick out all the faces, the pictures with all boys. “And are all the boys in your photos going to be at this party?”

She tips her head as she thinks. “Yes, actually.”

“Are you going to tell all of them who I am?”

She’d momentarily forgotten she couldn’t just leave Jihoon at home. “No, absolutely not.”

“So, what are you going to tell them?”

“Well, if I’m being honest, I was hoping I bored you so much today that you’d leave. But seems like that’s not going to happen.” She glances over her shoulder at the demon. She doesn’t remember when he’d changed outfits. It must have been sometime in the café, but he’s in a plain t-shirt and jeans now, a red hat on his head. “So, if you’re coming, I haven’t worked out what I’m going to say.”

“I can’t leave. I told you that there was something we had to do.”

“So you say.”

“And you seem to know more about it than you let on when I told you.”

“What?”

Jihoon waves the sketchbook in the air. “In here. Your sketches.”

“What about them? It’s not as if I’m drawing possessed humans or something.”

“You draw locations.”

“And?”

Jihoon frowns. He doesn’t trust anything this human says.

They stop in a few stores on the way home, and she can hear and feel Jihoon’s growing impatience. However, Jihoon doesn’t seem too aggressive for a demon, so she pushes her luck. They stop in a flower shop to pick up some flowers. She ducks into the bookstore near her apartment to ask the storeowner if anything interesting has come in. When the older woman points to a few new releases, she purchases two. The last stop is a bakery.

“You are seriously toying with me,” Jihoon grumbles under his breath.

“What are you talking about?”

The baker pretends as if he can’t hear the argument brewing, as he packs two-dozen assorted cupcakes.

“Are you trying to bore me into leaving?” Jihoon demands, his voice rising slightly.

She looks over her shoulder and shakes her head. “Not intentionally. Just always like to pop into these stores. And…” She pays for the cupcakes, smiling reassuringly at the baker hoping that it conveys that she’s not in a toxic relationship. “I always bring these cupcakes to Seungkwan’s. The boys love them.”

They go back to the apartment, bickering about different aspects of her life. From where all the women in her life are to why she is in the city alone to her lack of love life.

But she has a reasonable answer for everything.

“Seriously, Mr. Demon, I don’t know what you’re trying to figure out,” she smiles at the young man who holds the apartment door for her, “but my life is fine.”

“In my millennia of existence,” he watches her struggle to press the elevator button, “no one has a fine life. Something is always wrong.”

“But do humans who are satisfied with their lives,” she stops talking when the elevator opens, but there’s no one there, “summon demons to make it better?” She manages to press the button for her floor. “You’re here by accident, so you can leave whenever you please.”

Jihoon has no response to that. He trails after her. While he had been bickering with the human all the way back, Jihoon had also been watching the humans that were passing. If what he thinks is happening is actually happening, then there should have been signs of it. Also, why wasn’t he made aware of the plan, whatever the plan is?

Human possession isn’t frowned upon, far from it. Demons that can integrate and wreak havoc are praised highly. The reason most demons don’t is because the stakes are high. Consequences involve angels. Getting caught by an angel typically means termination, so only the strongest and boldest bother to try human possession. And with Hell crawling with more cowards than Bravehearts, well, it doesn’t happen often. And for all the evil that Jihoon could sense, there wasn’t anything particularly noticeable.

For all intents and purposes, the area seems just like her life: fine. So, why, as he walks into her apartment, does he have a sinking feeling?

He sits on the floor between the couch and the coffee table and splays her sketchbook open. Meanwhile, she disappears into her bedroom to do whatever humans do when they get home. When she returns, she looks similar to how she did when they stepped out the door earlier. She takes a seat across from him. Her back is to the TV and Jihoon doesn’t know why this makes him more comfortable.

The way she studies him makes him uncomfortable, as if she’s reading him more than she’s letting on. “So, what in the world have you been going on about that you refuse to say in front of other humans, Mr. Demon?”

“I just need to reconfirm. You are unafraid,” he pauses to gauge her reaction, “of me.”

“You don’t seem to want the destruction of humankind, so you seem overall alright. Haven’t possessed or really threatened me. If anything, you’ve now just become mildly annoying.”

That bothers him. Annoying. As if he’s a gnat.

“Why?” She tips her head. “Should I be scared?”

Jihoon takes her in. In whatever way she’s reading him, he can easily read more. In the reflection of the TV, he notices his own eyes going from black to green. The human can definitely see it too, though she hasn’t said anything about it. 

“Hm, okay,” he finally says.

She blinks. That hadn’t been the response she was expecting. “Okay what?”

“You’re okay.”

She laughs in disbelief. “For a human, you mean?”

Jihoon nods. “Exactly.”

“Because I’ve decided to not be afraid of you?”

“I don’t like the groveling and the begging. And if they’re not doing that, then they’re demanding. Reasonable humans. I like you guys.”

“Does that include Hansol?”

Jihoon hesitates. “That human is tolerable.”

With a small smile he doesn’t notice, she leans forward and rests her arms on the coffee table. “Well, with that out of the way, what’d you wanna talk about?”

Jihoon immediately turns her sketchbook to face her. He points out the various locations she’d sketched out. At the time, she was working on architectural references. People are her forte, but she’s been wanting to transition to putting people into environments.

She waits for Jihoon to explain before asking her question. “What about them?”

He puts a finger on the sketchbook. “Do you know where exactly these places are?”

“Well, yeah. One of my friends and I went on a drive around the city and out to the suburbs looking for buildings to draw.” She answers the unasked question. “He wanted to photograph some stuff and he has a car.”

“These three,” he now points to an abandoned building, a building that looks a bit like a hospital, and a storefront, “give off…” Jihoon pauses to consider the best way to describe the black smoke coming off these sketches. “Bad energy.”

He cringes internally.

What’s the word he kept hearing in the café?

Vibes.

As if the potential end of humankind and the End Days are just about “vibes”. Hell, Jihoon can’t decide if he prefers the modern age to the last century.

But the human doesn’t cringe. Instead, she’d interpreted his words differently. As an affront on her skill. “You’re saying they suck?”

“No.” Jihoon looks over the sketches again. “Your drawings are actually… quite good,” he mutters. He avoids her eye when she smirks at the compliment. “These three places have bad energy coming off the page. But your other work,” he picks up the sketchbook and thumbs the pages, “nothing. So,” the book lands back on the table open to the original page, “I want to see them.”

“In person?” She takes his impassive expression as a yes. “I can take you to the places, but we’ll need a car.” Her eyebrows rise as an idea strikes. “He posted his photos on his Insta.”

“Insta?” Jihoon repeats.

“Instagram.” She’s on her feet going to her backpack by her desk. “Social media platform, not important.” When she sits back down, she looks at something in her sketchbook. “When did we go?” she mutters.

Jihoon notices the date scribbled in the right corner of each sketch.

He can hear her humming as she searches for whatever she wants to show him.

“Ah! Here!” The phone is then on the table facing him.

Jihoon squints at the screen before realizing he doesn’t need to squint to read what’s on the screen. Bad habits.

“Just swipe to the left to see the other ones. I think the abandoned building is the last photo.”

Her drawings, while not 100% accurate, capture the feeling and the general shapes. She’s simplified them, but Jihoon is impressed that he can associate the sketch and the real life building. His eyes dart to the name of the photographer: xu8.

He decides that can’t be a real name.

From the photos, Jihoon can’t see the evidence of demon activity. But through her sketches, he can. He doesn’t know what that says about the humans who did the work or the medium.

“This xu8 took the photos?”

“His name’s Myungho, but yes. That’s his username.”

Jihoon frowns.

She waves her hand dismissively. “Again, not important.”

“Will this Myungho be at the party tonight?”

“He should be. Do you want to talk to him?”

“Will he have the photos or the camera he used to take these photos with him?”

She reaches for her phone. “I can ask him to bring them.”

“Will he be suspicious?”

“Suspicious? No. Curious, probably. This was three months ago.”

Jihoon already recognizes the signature look of someone ‘texting’: head down, chin nearly to her chest. When she suddenly tosses herp hone behind him on the couch, the demon moves his head to avoid being hit.

“He said he’d bring it.”

Jihoon turns back to her and then back at the phone. “He responded already?”

“Myungho only texts in one worded answers and always has his phone nearby.” She leans back on her palms. “Now, what exactly are we going to tell my friends when you show up?”

part 4

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ~ 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎! 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛! (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎) 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 // 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔 *𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴* 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟸.𝟸𝚔

a/n: have a little midnight chapter! i hoped to post this a lot sooner but tumblr didn’t save the draft where i’d done the first 1k words (i have the whole storyline roughly mapped out but it still sucked to lose all my work), so i was like nope fuck this and then i left this alone for a couple of days because i could not be bothered to type everything i’d just lost. BUT we’re back!

     Today makes exactly 3 weeks since Margaret Carter and Brock Rumlow exposed the part of your life you’d hoped would stay hidden forever. Although you told Prince James that you wouldn’t contact him anymore, a big part of you was hurt that he’d made no move to contact you. Steve hadn’t come by the bakery either, and you couldn’t bring yourself to go to the palace gates. If you were asked to leave, you didn’t think you could handle that.

Despite feeling down and wanting nothing more than to spend your days laying in bed, you still put on a happy face every morning. After all, you and Peter still worked at the bakery every day. May and Ben both offered to work your shifts, understanding that you may want time to yourself, but you declined. The distraction of having things to do all day was good for you.

Well, mostly good for you. You woke each morning feeling at least a little exhausted. It took you a long time to fall asleep each night. You’d often involuntarily stay awake until midnight, but would still get up at 6am sharp to get ready for the day.

Peter often snuck into your room to turn off your alarm so that you could sleep while he worked solo in the mornings. He pointed out that mornings were slow anyway, and you were grateful for those few extra hours of rest. 

One morning things appear even slower than usual. By 11am, you could still count the number of customers on one hand. 

You and Peter decided to close the shop at 11:30, for half an hour to have lunch, opting to eat in the kitchen while experimenting with different breads and pastries. May thought that maybe some new desserts might bring in people from the nearby village, and you and Peter were now determined to come up with something good.

At noon when you walk back out to open the store front, you’re surprised to see 2 women sitting on the bench outside. You rushed to unlock the door, apologizing for keeping them waiting. As they follow you back inside, you can’t help but glance at them again. They look so familiar, yet you don’t think they’ve ever come in before.

When they introduce themselves a minute later, you learn that you’re right. You had seen them at the ball.

Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova explain that they’re Becca’s private security whenever she needs to be out, and at the ball they were helping to keep a watchful eye on things. And you learn that they’re there right now because she’s asking you to come to the palace.

“I— I don’t know if it’s a good idea to—”

Yelena puts a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile. “She said to tell you that her idiot brother isn’t there, so you won’t have to worry about running into him. She only wants to discuss something with you.”

That does make you feel a lot better, though you can’t help but wonder where he is. Still, you’re reluctant to go. Surely Margaret has fed her the same stories, why could she possibly want to see you?

As much as you want to say that you really can’t go, you see Natasha and Yelena standing there basically twiddling their thumbs, and you have a feeling that they’ve been instructed to not return unless you’re with them.

Peter, sensing your anxiety, walks over and stands next to you. “I can manage for the rest of the day if you want to go. If you don’t, I can tell them that I need you here because I have to leave or we’re expecting a big order or something.” He’s been really worried about you, and hopes that if you do decide to go with them, whatever conversation you have with Becca will cheer you up.

Part of you knows that you have to go with them. If you didn’t you’d just spend all your time wondering what Becca wanted to talk to you about.

“Umm Natasha, Yelena? Is it alright if I just meet you both back at the palace? I’d just like to go home and change first,” you approach the 2 of them, still a little anxious, but better knowing that Peter has your back and would’ve been willing to lie for you.

“Oh call me Nat,” she smiles at you. “And we can just come with you, walk you to the palace after. You live just down the road right?”

Wow, guess I was right about them not coming back unless I’m with them, you think to yourself.

You make small talk on the short walk to your house, and by the time you get there your nerves have pretty much gone away. They’re both really nice, and you find yourself laughing at their bickering over who of the 2 of them is the better fighter.

“—it is definitely me,” Yelena grins at you. She motions to Nat, “this one is a total poser”.

Nat scoffs, rolling her eyes but ultimately letting Yelena win the conversation for now. “Alright alright let’s just let her get changed so we can head back, hmm?”

You quickly change into a yellow sundress and run a brush through your hair, exiting your bedroom just 5 minutes later.

“Cute!” Yelena admires your dress, “I might have to borrow that sometime”.

“I wouldn’t let her if I were you,” Nat warns you as you begin the short journey to the palace, “last three pieces of clothing she borrowed from me? Still haven’t seen them”.

You burst out laughing when Nat does airquotes around the word borrowed.

All too quickly, you reach the palace gates.

As soon as you step into the palace, Becca crushes you in a hug, nearly knocking you both to the floor. Yelena and Nat glance at each other, laughing as they excuse themselves, saying they’ll be in another room if you need them.

You follow Becca up to her bedroom, where she shuts the door and you both collapse on opposite ends of her bed. After a moment, she’s the first to break the silence. “I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you sooner”.

“You have nothing to apologize for, you must have a lot to do around here—”

“How are you doing since… what happened at the ball?”

You had a feeling this was why she’d actually asked you to come over. “I… I’m as okay as I can be, I guess. I wish I hadn’t been exposed like that, but I suppose it’s a relief that everything is out in the open. Although part of me is worried about King Laufeyson and what he’ll do when he finds out that I’ve told people about the accident— that I guess wasn’t really an accident.”

Becca sits up, though she won’t make eye contact with you. “You have nothing to worry about. King Laufeyson will not bother you or your family ever again.”

And now you’re on edge. “Wh-what? What do you mean I have nothing to worry about, how do you know he won’t bother us?”

As she realizes what she’s just told you, Becca’s eyes widen. Saying nothing, she simply grabs your hand and practically drags you through the palace. You come to one of the many living rooms and find Queen Winnifred sitting on a sofa, reading.

“Your majesty,” you start to curtsy as she notices you both enter the room, and she surprises you by putting her book down and pulling you in for a hug and telling you to call her Winnie.

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet at the ball. Though I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances.”

“Circumstances?” You look between Becca and Winnie, now even more confused. What feels like a million scenarios are running through your mind, but you don’t think any of them are accurate.

“Perhaps we should all sit down,” she motions behind her to the couch. You sit on the couch with her, while Becca opts to sit on one of the large chairs just on the other side. “What do you know of King Laufeyson and his people?”

Dread fills your entire body. “Other than… what he’s done to my family, nothing.”

You all glance up just in time to see Thor enter the room. You stand up when he approaches, and he greets you with a hug, apologizing for intruding but saying he had to come and talk when he heard you were at the palace.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as soon as I read your letter, but I just felt you should know. Loki is— was, my brother. He was adopted as an infant and we were raised together. Our childhood was normal, we were very close back then. But the older he got, the more defiant he got. It was clear that he needed help. He wasn’t just an angry boy, he was… cruel. Our parents did everything they could, gave him every opportunity and unfortunately covered for him too many times. But finally everyone had enough, and he was sent away to school that was meant to help him. But it only made him angrier. He rebelled, and as soon as he turned of age, he manipulated the crown away from our parents. It’s why my home perished. Not literally, as in a fire, but it was destroyed by Loki. He ran all Asgardian’s out of the kingdom and quickly filled it with his own people that he met while away. He— he is not. good man.”

You sit there, trying to process everything, when Winnie speaks up once more. “We welcomed the people of Asgard with open arms, vowing to help however we good. From a legal standpoint, there was nothing we could do. He was cruel and manipulative, but he hadn’t technically broken any laws. Recently we’ve had people do some digging, and what happened to your parents, it’s not the first time he has caused a situation like that. Two nights ago, one of our people went to your home, and May Parker provided us with the documents proving that he threatened your family and made you promise to never tell. We’d asked her not to say anything to you just yet, for we didn’t want to get any hopes up. But we’ve just received word that your proof, amongst all the rest, was enough. Loki Laufeyson is no longer king of Asgard. The throne will be returned to Odin and Frigga, who have also been living in the palace. They’re on the side that I don’t think you’ve been on.”

“What’s to happen with King— what’s to happen with Loki now?”

“The people of our kingdom, and Asgard, are pushing for a hanging. But even if he should receive a life sentence, he will still never see the light of day, and he will never harm anyone again. James has been away—”

“Is this why he’s gone now? Loki—” Now you’re panicked. And you feel selfish, for being upset that he hadn’t contacted you, when you now know where he has been.

“When Bucky read your letter and learned what Loki did to you and your family, he was angrier than I’ve ever seen him. He wanted to go and apologize and comfort you right away, but he was so angry with Loki. Right away he wanted to leave and kill him. He left the next day, accompanied by Steve and a few of our other men. He didn’t have any real plan, but we got updates from them fairly often. He was the one who gathered further proof of the crimes that Loki had committed, and it was him that informed us that Loki had been overthrown.”

Winnie picks up when Becca grows quiet, “I love my dear son, but he was a fool for reacting the way that he did, when Margaret and Brock tried to air out your personal business. They’ve both since been exiled from the kingdom, because this isn’t the first time they’ve attempted to meddle in business that they have no reason to insert themselves into. They should’ve been dealt with long ago. I apologize that it took this incident involving you.”

You wipe away the couple of tears that had fallen, “I’m sorry that you’re all dealing with this because of the letter that I wrote to Prince James…”

“I’m not sorry,” Winnie gives you a sad smile, “of course I’m sad that this happened to you and I wish that it hadn’t, but now that we know, it’s good that we’ve dealt with the problem. Loki Laufeyson has been allowed to reign as King of Asgard for far too long. Now he’s dealt with, and Odin and Frigga may return to Asgard as the rightful King and Queen.”

You’re about to respond, when Sam and Clint suddenly burst into the room.

“When did you all get ba—” Becca starts to ask, but Sam cuts her off.

“It’s Bucky, he’s hurt.”

not clickable means it won’t let me tag you. (i’ll try to @ you in a comment / reply to this, it’ll come from my side blog @infiniteminds)

series tags: @thebuckybarnesvault​ / @matchat3a​ / @avengersfan25​ / @et-homephone / @adangerousbalance​ / @bxtchboy69​ / @zealouspostwitch / @sgt-tasm​ / @sebsgirl71479 / @ivybarns / @storyofmemory / @sky0401​ / @realgaytrash​ / @moonlightreader649​ / @sugarpits / @browneyedgirl22 / @inkedaztec​ / @buchanansbaby / @starbxcks

all bucky tags: @hallecarey1 / @valkyrie418 / @weirdowithnobeardo / @adoringsebstan / @seabassstanfan / @channelxt / @eliwinchester99 / @searchf0rtheskyline

all character tags: @jaywalkingape

[holychocopie]

Bodyguard!Sanemi x F!Reader - part 2

Getting bullied at school 😭

Authors' notes: I am so sooooo SO sorry it took so long for me to update. I went on holidays to from New Zealand to France then back, 18.000km, 30 hours flight... Before that I had to pack and organise, then I was so jetlagged for 2 weeks after that!! Now I'm also job-hunting so I'm busy af. But hey, part 2 is finally here, and part 3 is half way done so hopefully it will be posted by the end of the month! Bear with me friends 💗 Warnings: F!Reader, swearing (as per usual), R-word, mention and depiction of bullying (I tried to keep it soft-ish), not proof-read Word count: 1812 Intro - Part 1 - Masterlist

After the fiasco of your last shopping trip, you decided to take your little war against Bodyguard!Sanemi down a notch. All things considered, he isn’t that bad. As long as you mind your own business and follow his rules, he will remain nothing but a discreet shadow.

School, on the other hand, has become a problem.

There is a new transfer girl and she wants it all. Her name : Ume.

She’s not as rich as you (not many people are, even in the elite school where your parents signed you up), but in a matter of days, she’s become definitely more popular.

You don't mind too much at first; you have always been the weird one after all, the dork with only a handful of real close friends, and it’s been perfect this way so far. Not perfect for her visibly, since she started attacking you from her very first day on campus.

At first it was only mild mockery and childish provocations, so you shrugged it off. But Ume is persistent and visibly determined to get a reaction from you, although you aren’t sure why. Does she want your friends to herself? Is it because you have more money? Is it because, despite being a nerdy introvert at school, you are more popular with the media?

So eventually, it has become more concrete: she would spill food or drinks on you by ‘accident’, push you when passing by, make it very obvious when whispering or cackling with her group that they are gossiping about you…

And then the last incident to date: at the end of your day, as you were leaving the campus while chatting enthusiastically with your best friend Mitsuri, you unexpectedly lost your footing. You stumbled forward not so graciously and would probably have landed straight on your face if it hadn’t been for Mitsuri and her ninja-like reflexes, catching you in extremis. You totally scratched the palm of your hands though! 🤧

You hadn’t seen your nemesis walking up to you, and the damn bitch tripped you. "Whoops! Do you even know how to walk properly, or are you a retard?" she chuckled nastily as she passed you. "Where are we now? Back to fucking primary school?!" you had mumbled angrily as you rubbed your hands on your uniform’s skirt with a pained face while she walked away from you without a second glance.

Of course, Sanemi saw everything since it happened just by the gates, and when you reached the car, he opened the door for you and casually asked: "What was that ?" "Nothing." You didn’t want to give him any reason to mock you, you didn’t need any more bullying.

What you didn’t realise though, was that Sanemi hadn’t asked in order to gloat or mock, but because he was worried. Professionally, of course. It’s his job to keep you safe after all. Of course, from obvious threats such as terrorists, gangs, your father’s competitors, etc. But that also includes protecting you from school bullies.

Your bodyguard isn’t allowed in classes but he is free to roam around the school grounds. So far, he has stuck to the outskirt of the campus, since the school has its own security system and intervention team, and Sanemi seemed satisfied enough when reviewing their lockdown procedures. But since the last incident with Ume, you have seen him more often than not whenever you’re not in class.

He’s not shadowing you like he usually does when you go out, but he is never too far. Is this jerk worried? you wonder. ‘Cause he certainly acts like a helicopter mom…

Yet, you can’t help the feeling of safety when he’s in your field of vision.

There has been no further incidents over the last couple of days. You can tell it’s more of a ‘calm before the storm’ kind of situation, and sure enough the calm doesn't last: on the third day of peace, you’re very grateful for Sanemi's most intense scruteny…

While on your way to PE – horse riding of course, ‘cause yeah, rich people school and all… and you suck at golf anyway – you find yourself cornered by Ume and her followers, behind one of the many buildings on the way there. You had nearly forgotten about her and her obsession with you, so you slightly jump when she appears from around the corner, a sly smile on her painted lips, her hands on hips, posing like a victorious villain.

"What’s with the surprised Pikachu face… You didn’t think I was done with you, were you?" she asks when she’s close enough to poke you just under the collarbone, her well-manucured pointing finger painfully diging in your flesh as she steps forward menacingly, forcing you to step back. "Who’s that guy following you around by the way? Your babysitter?" she chuckles, triggering her friends' laughter.

At the mention of the white-haired bodyguard, you look around, intuitively searching for him. That’s when you notice that Sanemi, for once, is nowhere to be found. You gulp.

You put on confident face and shrug nonchalantly, trying to appear as casual and relaxed as you can when, in reality, fear is starting to creep up at the back of your mind. You know too well what the crowd effect can lead to, especially when cruaulty is involved, and right now it’s you against half a dozen other teens.

You hope she won't notice the slight tremble in your voice when you say: "Why do you care? He’s your kinda guy or something? I thought that you were more into that green, curly-haired guy who picks up… Oh, wait! He’s your brother, is he not? My bad…"

You knew you should have stayed quiet and be the better person, but she was getting on your nerves and this was the straw that broke the cherry on your cake. As you could expect, Ume doesn’t take your hints at her slightly dodgy relationship with her older brother very well. She also really doesn’t seem to like that you talk back to her this time around.

She steps forward angrily, her perfect model-like silhouette only centimetres away from yours. And while you expected her to threaten you, she unexpectedly pushes you roughly against the wall, the fancy red bricks hurting your back and ribs with the shock.

As you painfully land on your ass, you hear a few people in her group gasp, not quite ready for the straight up display of violence. The others however giggle like shameless turkeys.

She looks down at you with a victorious expression on her face, but before any snarky comment can come out of her mouth, her features turn from desdain to pain. She bends forward as a loud crack can be heard.

Sanemi appears behind her; he’s holding her arm twisted and locked in her back. "You wanna die, brat?" It sounds more like a death threat than an actual question when the words leave his mouth.

His expression is pure wrath, but a nasty, dangerous grin is spread across his lips, which gives him the look of a deranged psychpath like Nicholson in The Shining.

"What the hell? You can’t do this to me! I’m a student here!" Ume screams. But Sanemi takes his job very seriously and he would use any means necessary. So his answer didn’t really come as a surprise.

"I don’t give a shit. You can be from the emperial family, I’ll still break your arm if you touch her again."

"I’ll report you !"

He laughs. "Please, do so. That way my employer will praise me for doing a great job and I’ll get a payrise."

You stand up and dust your pants off. "She got the message, let’s go." You wrap yourself in your dignity, your best resting bitch face on, and walk away from the group. You don’t see Sanemi letting her go, but you hear her overly loud, painful moan and your bodyguard’s footsteps in the peebled pathway that leads to the stabbles as he follows you closely.

Once you’re far enough from Ume and her group, you stop and turn to look at him. "What? You hurt or something?" he asks grumpily.

If you didn’t know him better, you’d definitely believe he is seriously worried for you. He even checks your figure up and down, scanning you for potential injuries. And that makes you feel good, warmth sorta blooming inside as your heart skips a beat.

You sigh and shake your head no as you speak: "If she reports you, my dad may not fire you for it, but the school will ban you from accessing the grounds. They might even take trespassing measures to keep you at a minimum distance if Ume’s brother makes noise about your little display of strength just then. And, if you can’t physically look after me and protect me, you’re no use to my dad eventually, and he will replace you."

"Why do you care? You made it pretty clear that you hate me."

He didn't hesitate when he asked and you don’t know if it is the question itself, or the way he cocks his head curiously at you, or even the sound of legit surprise in his voice, but you wonder why, indeed. Why do I care that he doesn't get fired when that's pretty much all I ever wanted since we met? Wouldn’t it be amazing if he could just disappear?

"I… I don’t—hate you," you admit in a barely audible voice. "I just don’t like you…"

"Same shit, isn’t it? At the end of the day, you want me gone."

It hurts you. Sanemi’s resigned words, and how aware he was of your resentment. He probably thinks of you as some spoiled, heartless bitch. You sigh, put on an annoyed face as you answer with exagerated pride: "I do. But if you get fired, I want to be the one to get you kicked out, not some random bitch. Besides, ‘better the devil you know’, right? My dad would replace you anyway… So might as well keep you around rather than having to cope with some Rambo. You’re not so bad after all."

He looks at you in a weird, undescribable way, with his lavender eyes fixed on you. For a hot second, you can't help but notice how pretty they are when they catch the light like amethysts.

Then eventually, he shrugs and chuckles. "Whatever," he says as the both of you start walking again.

When you reach your horse, you get him ready in silence, Sanemi only half a dozen metres away from you. Then as you climb, you mumble just loud enough, "Thank you anyway."

You don’t linger around and quickly take off. You don’t see Sanemi's expression soften.

"Looks like you’re not so bad after all either, you little shit."

[nightttdreamers]

Night Shift | Craig x Kenny

first chapter of my new crenny fic! yeah its a fake dating AU but it’s going to be super fun and just the right amount of cheesy. very excited to share!

AO3 Link | 4k words | Chapter 1/? | Chapter 2

“Hey, McCormick,” Craig says. “You’ll do anything for a buck, right?”

Kenny cocks his head at the question. “What? I mean, it depends. But, kinda, yeah.”

Craig takes a deep breath before he asks, “You wanna be my boyfriend?”

Craig switched to the night shift.

It wasn’t hard, because no one wants the night shift at a 24 hour convenience store. When his manager, a greasy twenty-six year-old, asked him why, Craig just said he wanted time after school for extracurriculars. It was the same excuse he told his parents, who, instead of wondering why their son wanted to work from 9:00PM to 2:00AM, just said, “You do extracurriculars?”

Tolkien, Clyde, and Jimmy didn’t believe that excuse however, so he told them that he’d be making more money instead, which seemed to work.

Thankfully, nobody asked further than that.

It’s not too bad. Craig hates customers and he sees them way less than he did when he was working after school. He just sits behind the counter, plays games on his phone, does the occasional bit of homework, and tries not to think. Recently, he’s been testing the limits of the security cameras, trying to figure out blind spots. Not because he cares if people steal, of course, he couldn’t give less of a fuck. It’s just something to keep him occupied until the five hours run out.

He’s been on the night shift for over two weeks now, and he’s gotten used to the routine. He knows the students that come in after football games before they head off to their parties he’s not invited to. He knows which truck drivers will let him bum a cigarette from the packs they buy. And he knows that after midnight the store is completely dead.

Except this particular night, apparently. At one in the morning, the door opens. Craig looks up from his phone, first seeing a flash of blonde hair that makes his heart sink. But, then the blonde turns around and Craig has to hide the relief on his face.

“Craig Tucker?”

Kenny says his name with a strange familiarity, like he’s reuniting with an old friend instead of a classmate he barely speaks to. He’s not wearing that stupid traffic cone-colored parka he always has on, but instead a beat-up denim jacket, which is why Craig almost had him mistaken at first. 

“Yeah?” Craig responds, raising his brows. The last thing he wants to do right now is talk to anyone from school. At least it's Kenny and not any of his idiot friends. Craig classifies Kenny as a low-level dumbass, somewhat harmless, while Stan and the others are Certified Douchebags.

“When did you start working here?” Kenny asks, stepping up to the counter.

Fuck, he wants a conversation. “I don’t know, a while ago,” Craig replies.

“But where’s the usual night shift guy? Are you covering for him?” Kenny leans over the counter a bit while he speaks, which is a little too close for comfort. Craig avoids his eyes, instead looking down at what appears to be a spot of dried blood on his white t-shirt.

“Are you bleeding?” He asks.

“Probably. Did you trade shifts with the other guy? Me and him were just starting to become pals, you know?” Kenny’s bright eyes are bouncing around everywhere as he leans back again, glancing over candy bars and cigarette cartons and five-hour energy drinks on the counter. His general enthusiasm is making Craig feel more exhausted. He wonders if the blonde is on something. He’s heard some shit about what Kenny does when he’s missing school.

“I switched shifts like two weeks ago,” Craig replies, still looking at the blood stain, which actually looks a bit fresh in the light.

“Uh-huh, got it,” Kenny nods, finally leaving the counter to look through the aisles. Craig lets out a sigh, picking up his phone again to return to his game. After a minute or so, Kenny pipes up from the chip aisle. “Hey, didn’t you and Tweek break up two weeks ago?”

Craig grips his phone, looking up at Kenny who seems to be really interested in a bag of chips right now. “Why do you care?” It’s a genuine question, but Craig still tries to sound nonchalant when he asks it.

“‘Cause gossip is fun? I dunno,” the other responds flippantly, moving on to a bag of pretzels instead. He’s turned away now, moving further down the aisle, unaware that Craig is staring daggers at him. “I heard he dumped you in the parking lot and you got so mad you smashed a car window, then got in-school-suspension for two days.”

Craig slams his phone down on the counter, but Kenny doesn’t even flinch, simply turning back to him with an innocent expression.

“What?” The other asks. “Bebe told me that she saw the whole thing.”

“She-” Craig begins, nearly raising his voice. He cuts himself off, however, gritting his teeth for a moment. “Bebe is a fucking liar.”

Kenny seems to think about this accusation before responding. “Yeah, I didn’t really believe her,” he says, then ducks into another aisle. With Kenny out of sight, Craig deflates, running a hand through his hair. He’s no stranger to gossip in South Park, in fact he might be a veteran, but it’s been a while since someone regurgitated some bullshit they heard to his face. He can’t even be too mad, considering he’s talked plenty about every other breakup in their school- Stan and Wendy, Tolkien and Wendy, Tolkien and Nichole, Nichole and Kyle, in their small school, other people’s drama is prime entertainment.

The part of it that pisses him off isn’t that people are spreading rumors about the breakup. It’s the fact that, across every untrue story, people still know that it was Tweek who dumped Craig .

Kenny drops a 6-pack of beer on the counter and Craig is so preoccupied with his thoughts that he nearly rings it up before realizing what the item is. “Is this a joke?” Craig asks, looking back up at Kenny.

“Is what a joke?” The other asks, idly picking at his lower lip with his thumb. He pulls back the skin slightly, flashing a missing tooth, though it doesn’t look like he’s even aware of what he’s doing.

“Do you seriously think I’m going to let you buy this?” He says flatly. Kenny gives him a confused look, like he sincerely doesn’t know why Craig won’t check him out. “You’re not 21 McCormick, fuck off.”

“Are you sure about that?” Kenny asks, shuffling around in his pocket before pulling out a wad of cards and cash, held together by a rubber band. He slides a card out and places it on the counter, right in front of Craig.

It’s just about the worst fake ID he’s ever seen. It’s from Wyoming, the man in the picture barely resembles Kenny except for the blonde hair, and the text is chipping in certain places. Craig picks it up, bending the card just to see how flimsy it is.

Kenny is leaning on the counter again, wearing that stupid grin he always seems to sport as he watches Craig. “So, you’re twenty-seven,” Craig deadpans.

“Yes, sir,” Kenny chirps, eyeing the nicotine products. “And a pack of camels too,” he says, then adds, “Please.”

Craig sighs, putting the ID back on the counter. “I’m not selling you anything, McCormick.”

Kenny’s smile falters, though he tries to keep it up as his hand moves from his mouth to the back of his neck, anxiously rubbing it. “Come on, man. The other night guy always took my ID. You can ask him, too. He never even got in trouble for it.” Craig simply stares at him, eyes narrow. His shift ends in less than an hour, he just wants to go home and ignore everyone, not deal with an idiot like Kenny. “Craig,” Kenny says, almost whining . “Do me a solid, I’m not even gonna drink it. It’s for my dad and he’ll get pissed, okay?”

It’s not like Craig really cares about Kenny enough to look into his personal life, but it’s impossible not to know that he doesn’t have it easy at home. And maybe it’s because he’s sleep deprived, or he just wants Kenny to leave already, but Craig grabs the Camels. “Whatever.”

Kenny grins now, somehow even wider than before, as he drums his fingers on the counter. “I knew you were a good guy. You know, everyone thinks you’re an asshole, but I knew you weren’t.”

Craig scans each item, trying to convince himself that this isn’t a terrible idea. “I am an asshole,” he says. “And that’s $17.02”

Once again, Kenny flips through his rubber-band wad and pulls out a twenty. Instead of just handing it over, he places it on the counter, then slowly slides it to Craig. “Keep the change.”

Craig, unamused, takes the bill, glancing up at Kenny. “Really?”

“Hell no,” Kenny says with a laugh, grabbing his change once Craig puts it on the counter. He pauses, then leaves three dimes on the table. “There, you can keep that change.”

“I’ll try not to spend it all in one place,” he says, turning back to the cash register. Kenny picks up his items, but lingers by the counter, and Craig can feel his blue eyes on him. “What? Do you want a receipt or something?”

“So it’s true, then?” Kenny asks. Then, when Craig gives him a confused look, he says, “You and Tweek broke up?”

“Do you really want to push your luck with me right now, McCormick?” Craig asks, hopefully in a threatening enough voice that Kenny gets the message.

Instead, the blonde just laughs like this is some inside joke between the two of them and heads out the door, throwing a wave back at Craig as he exits.

In the wake of Kenny McCormick, the store feels almost eerily quiet, rather than the peaceful stillness that it was before. Still, Craig exhales, grateful that the entire interaction is over. He returns to his mindless phone game and tries not to think about Tweek or Kenny or even stupid Bebe spreading rumors about him.

School had been more annoying than usual. He and Tweek entered their senior year together, how was Craig supposed to know they wouldn’t finish it like that? Their schedules overlapped for three periods: History, calculus, and lunch. In class, he and Tweek always sat next to each other, so it wasn’t too difficult to just sit in the back instead, though some people were pissed that their unofficial seating chart had been messed with after three months of peace. He’d sit with the goths or the ugly kids and ignore the twitchy blonde across the room, constantly pretending that he wasn’t just staring when Tweek would catch his wayward glances.

Lunch, however, was more difficult. In the first few days, he avoided the cafeteria entirely, opting to eat alone in his car instead. Sure, if someone saw him it would be social suicide, but that would be better than sitting with his ex-boyfriend. By the end of the first week, Clyde had called him on the verge of tears, begging his best friend to come back and sit with them. Apparently, Tweek had started eating lunch in the art room instead, something that he told Clyde that he had texted Craig. What neither of them knew, however, was that Craig had blocked Tweek’s number the day they broke up.

So, he went back to eating lunch with his friends. Tolkien and Clyde sitting across from him, and Jimmy on his side, leaving an odd space as if Tweek is going to come and sit between them like he usually does. There’s a certain stiffness at the table that certainly wasn’t there before, and Craig understands that it’s probably his fault. He’s caused a few awkward moments when they’ve tried to ask about Tweek by quickly dropping the subject or just ignoring it entirely. Even their attempts to talk to him about anything at all are unsuccessful, as Craig is much more interested in staring silently at his food while he counts the minutes until lunch is over.

Today, he once again brings an uncomfortable energy to the lunch table. However, instead of fixating on his shitty meal, he’s looking right at Clyde. He didn’t want to linger on the rumor Kenny had told him the other night, but he couldn’t help it. Did Clyde tell Bebe about what happened and she decided to make up a more interesting story? Or did Bebe tell him what she “saw” and Clyde simply believed her? 

“What’s up, Craig?” Clyde asks, knitting his brows together. The two have made eye contact a few times over the last few minutes, but this is the first time Clyde hasn’t immediately looked away. The others at the table turn their attention to the two, feeling the tension.

“Clyde, when you and Bebe go out, do you guys just sit around and talk about my love life?” Craig asks. It comes out a bit harsher than he intends, but he’s always been one to be straightforward.

Clyde just gives him a confused look, then Craig watches the subsequent realization and fear come across his face. “What?”

“I heard a really interesting story from your girlfriend about how I got dumped, then broke a car window and got ISS,” Craig replies. “So I just wanted to know, do you guys sit and talk about my love life all the time, or just sometimes?”

“Wait, I thought t-t-that you tried to set f-fire to the car?” Jimmy says, which earns him a death glare from Craig.

“Don’t be mad,” Clyde whines, giving his friend a nervous smile. “It was just a rumor, I didn’t even believe her when she told me! I actually walked past the ISS room just to look for you.”

“So you do sit around and lie about my personal life,” Craig says, narrowing his eyes at Clyde. He then turns to Jimmy. “And you too? Tolkien, do you have any stories about my life I haven’t heard yet?” 

Tolkien, not as easily goaded into drama as Clyde, just shrugs. “Everyone was talking about it, man.”

Craig exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And none of you just asked me?”

“We tried!” Clyde exclaims, earning a few hums of agreement from the rest of the group. 

“You didn’t really want to talk about it when we asked,” Tolkien adds.

Craig presses his lips together in a firm line. He can’t really argue with that. In the days after the break up, he didn’t have in-school suspension, he just faked a cold and stayed home, giving him plenty of time to just think about all of the things that would be different now. Besides the obvious, giant void in his life that Tweek left behind, there was also the issue of their mutual friends, which neither of them would want to lose. Craig knew that Tweek had forfeited lunch, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in contact with their friends at all. The last thing Craig wanted was to make anyone choose sides.

To him, it felt like it would be in everyone’s best interest if he just left his friends out of it.

“Well, none of that stuff is true,” Craig mumbles, pushing the food on his tray around with his fork.

“So you d-didn’t set a car on fire?” Jimmy asks, scooting a bit closer to Craig.

“Or break the window?” Clyde adds.

“No,” Craig says flatly, rolling his eyes.

“And you didn’t get ISS?” Tolkien asks.

“No.”

“And Tweek didn’t break up with you?” Clyde asks, almost sounding hopeful.

Craig grips his fork tightly, staring down at the table. He pushes the tray of food away from himself, looking back up at three sets of curious eyes. “That’s- Yeah, he did.”

“Really? Like, he dumped you ?” Clyde doesn’t even try to hide the disbelief in his voice. Tolkien elbows him in the side at the comment, shooting Clyde a glare before turning to Craig with a sympathetic look.

“That sucks, man. I’m sorry,” he says, and Craig wants to crawl into his hoodie and never be seen again.

“It’s whatever,” Craig says, once again looking back down at the table. “I just don’t get why everyone thinks that I’m the one who got dumped.” 

The rest of the boys exchange glances, and Craig hates the silent debate they seem to be having over his head. “C-c-can I be honest with you for a second, p-pal?” Jimmy finally says, reaching up to put a hand on Craig’s shoulder.

“Go ahead,” Craig replies.

“In a b-b-breakup, there’s usually a winner, a-and a loser,” he begins, and Craig has a bad feeling that he knows where this is going. “Usually, the p-person who dumps the other is the w-w-winner.”

“What makes you guys think I’m not the winner?” Craig asks, looking between his friends. Once again, no one seems to want to answer.

“W-well, Craig, you k-k-kind of look like shit,” Jimmy finally says.

Craig scoots back from him, rolling the other’s hand off his shoulder. “Fuck off, Jimmy.” 

“He’s only saying that because we’re worried about you,” Tolkien says. “You barely talk to anyone, you always have your headphones in, plus now that you have the stupid night shift, basically no one has seen you outside of school.”

“We’re totally here for you, dude,” Clyde says, nodding in agreement. “Breakups are so hard, especially for the loser.”

“Thanks, Clyde,” Craig says flatly, moving to pick up his backpack.

Clyde winces at the remark. “I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t leave, man, you can talk to us!”

Craig stands, sliding his backpack over his shoulders. There’s still twenty minutes left in the period, but if he sits there any longer he might just explode. 

“W-w-we don’t think of you like that, C-Craig,” Jimmy adds, and Craig knows that he’s being sincere. If his friends think he’s handling the breakup badly, that’s okay with him. What’s not okay is that, apparently, Tweek is walking around doing just fine without him.

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” Craig says, picking up his tray. “You can all think what you want, okay? I’m fine. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

He can hear his friends calling his name, but Craig is already walking away from the table, trying not to be so aware of everyone’s eyes on him as he storms out of the lunchroom.

As he walks away from the table, he can hear his friends call his name, but it’s too late. Craig spends the rest of lunch alone under the bleachers, smoking a cigarette while his headphones blast Radiohead, acutely aware that he really does look like a loser.

Days later, he’s still thinking about it. Craig stands in the snack aisle, restocking the instant noodles, while it repeats like a mantra in his head; Tweek won, you lost.

It’s now been almost three weeks since the breakup. Three weeks of staring at the other’s blocked contact in his phone, deleting shared playlists, and aimlessly scrolling through old photos like he’ll find something he missed before, something that explains why . When they had their last conversation, Tweek had said “I think we both knew this was going to happen,” and all Craig could say in response was “What are you talking about?”

He looks down at the cup noodles in his hand. Suddenly, just lifting his arm to put it on the shelf feels like the hardest task in the world.

“I really don’t think that’s the best flavor choice,” pipes up a voice from beside him, and Craig jolts upright, turning to the stranger.

Kenny is standing at the end of the aisle in his dirty orange parka, hands shoved in his pocket, wearing the shit-eating grin he always has on.

“When did you get here?” Craig asks, letting his shoulders relax as he returns to his restock. He keeps his face down, hoping that Kenny didn’t see his momentary existential crisis just then.

“Like, a minute ago. Did you not hear the bell when I came in?” Kenny steps closer, peering over Craig’s shoulder at the products. “I guess not, you seemed pretty into these noodles. But, I gotta say, I think shrimp’s the worst flavor. Not that I know what real shrimp would taste like, but the cup noodle flavor is just too fake.”

Craig’s barely listening, trying to finish quickly. He just wants to go back behind the counter where he’s safe because Kenny is way too close to him right now. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, turning to walk away from the other.

Kenny, however, follows right behind him. “Have you ever made ramen chips? You just put the seasoning in the bag then you crush the ramen up and eat it like that. Like, no need for hot water or anything. My brother and I used to make it all the time. It’s just like chips, it’s pretty good.”

“Mhm,” he hums. Luckily, Kenny isn’t facing him, or he’d see the grimace on Craig’s face right now. The dark-haired boy steps behind the counter, finally separating himself from Kenny, dropping the empty ramen box on the floor beside him. 

“What did you think of the chem quiz today?” Kenny asks, flipping through the magazine rack.

The question catches him off-guard, and it takes Craig a second to realize that, oh yeah , Kenny is in his chemistry class. The blonde usually hides himself away in the back corner if he even attends class at all. “It was fine, I guess.”

Kenny nods. “Yeah, I think all this gas stuff has been tripping me up. I pretty much bullshitted the last page, but I think Mrs. Dawson wants to fuck me so I’ll probably be okay. I swear, every time she goes to help Kevin Stoley with a problem, she bends over right in front of me so I can see her ass. Like, it’s totally on purpose.”

“Are you here to buy something or just talk about random shit?” Craig asks. 

Kenny doesn't respond at first, and Craig can see the way his smile falters, how he stops flipping through the magazines for a second. When he looks up, his expression is sheepish, and Craig feels like an asshole.

“Sorry,” Kenny finally says. “I’m rambling, right? I’m kinda high, the guys always get annoyed at how much I talk when I smoke.”

He’s never been great at reading people, but it’s pretty obvious he just hit one of Kenny’s nerves. Before he can really think about it, he finds himself saying, “No, I’m sorry.” Both boys look surprised at the apology, and Craig figures he’d better explain himself. “You’re fine, I’m just tired and it’s been a shit day.”

Kenny’s expression softens, and Craig feels a bit lighter. “It’s okay,” he says. “I can’t blame you, dude. I guess you heard about Tweek, huh?”

The air in the room stills for a second as the two exchange a panicked glance.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have-” Kenny starts.

“What about Tweek?” Craig cuts him off, but Kenny keeps talking.

“I’m high, I’m rambling, just forget about it. Fuck.”

“Kenny,” Craig says, watching as the other mutters to himself, shaking his head. “Kenny!” He repeats, louder this time.

“It’s nothing,” Kenny says, but the high pitch of his voice tells Craig it’s definitely not nothing. “It’s a rumor, total bullshit.”

Craig sighs, knowing he probably shouldn’t ask. But he already lies awake at night thinking about what Tweek’s doing without him, he might as well lie awake knowing what his ex is up to. “Just tell me.”

Kenny gnaws on his lip for a second, nervously picking at the hem of his jacket before he speaks. “Don’t shoot the messenger, okay? But there was this thing at the skate park a few days ago and I heard that Tweek showed up with Pete Thelman.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Craig exclaims, causing Kenny to flinch.

“I said don’t shoot the messenger!” Kenny says, raising his hands defensively. “All I heard was that they were there together, it’s literally nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Craig barely hears the other, already feeling a pit in his chest starting to form. He wants to bash his head against the counter or trash the entire convenience store. But, he also wants to curl up on the floor and never be seen again. While he’s wasting away every day in the back of his classes, or locked in his room, or working the worst job at a near-empty store, Tweek is okay. Of course everyone knows he got dumped, apparently his ex is already moving on.

“Craig, are you good?” Kenny asks, leaning over the counter a bit. “Should I like, call someone?”

For the last few weeks, Craig has felt like there was a hole inside him, slowly growing to consume every part of his life. But, right now, something feels different. Even if it is a bullshit rumor, hearing about Tweek like this is sparking something in him.

He’s fucking pissed.

“Hey, McCormick,” Craig says. “You’ll do anything for a buck, right?”

Kenny cocks his head at the question. “What? I mean, it depends. But, kinda, yeah.”

Craig takes a deep breath before he asks, “You wanna be my boyfriend?”

[minseologs]

Perspective Compliance pt.2

@051688 @shelikeswongkarwai

It was rather tense in the lift ride with Elena’s purse in Minseo’s hand. It took heavy convincing and negotiation for her not to call the cops. To explain everything to someone who had barely known her. The younger’s arm comfort her own self after witnessing the traumatic thing she’s seen, while Minseo was nonchalant about the situation, and even cleaning up her bloody self to the best of her abilities like it’s in the norm.

Elena follows her through the office, the grandeur was being experienced for the first time as it was her first ever being there in CRM’s grounds. It was quiet due to the late hours of the night, and she was already packing her questions to Minseo. They enter a wing with prepared items to clean up herself, including water bottles and sanitary wipes of all kinds. It appeared this wasn’t the first it’s happened. An internal monologue was running in her mind, she doesn’t even know where to begin. Am I gonna die? Who is she, really—? I should call the cops— wait what if I die before they get he—

“Sit.” She jolts, and sit’s to the closest couch by the door. the older notices this wile washing her hands in a makeshift sink with the trash bin. “I don’t mean to threaten you, but I’ll have people catch you if you try to run from me at this moment.”

“I won’t.” She assures. But she was still tense. The terror in her voice pipes from her through and she had trouble getting her words out. How does one react to that? “You’re gonna get arrested— you’re leaving evidence just like that?”

“I can’t be arrested if nothing is there. I already messaged my team, they’re taking care of it at this moment. I know because the garage has been closed. No one gets in, or gets out until it’s done.”

“—and what about the body?”

“They usually burn it.”

Elena’s face was stunned with the way Minseo just says it so casually. Her mind puts out questions after questions that Minseo probably has an answer to. She was unsure what’s gonna happen now, but her perception had changed. Seeing her as a comedic and soft relief has now shifted to someone headstrong and to be feared. Despite this, she felt as though she knows to lay everything out.

“I heard you know a little— from Bohyun. I could only assume not this much.” She speaks gently, for a moment there, the person she knew returns."

“Yeah— but— not like this,” her shoulder shrugs. She still felt uncomfortable. “I didn’t know about killing or whatever…” her eyes gaze cautiously. “Does Bohyun— do this, too?”

“No— his family just deals with the tech things and what not— nothing illegal. Nothing about killing. They operate overseas, our family acquainted with each other here in Korea. We’ve had a long history so…” she hands back her purse as some sort of peace offering. “I promise, Bohyun didn’t keep anything a secret from you. This— what I do, I told him a long time ago even before you were around. So it’s between us. At least, as far as I know.”

hm… Elena mutters in a weary tone, watching Minseo finish up her dues. It was weird. All to weird for her.

“Why were you here anyway…?”

-

“Have you lost your fucking mind—?” Bohyun storms in to the CRM office, with Minseo just as surprised they weren’t able to stop him. “Let’s talk, about what Elena saw—“

Her eyes look over at the apologetic guards bowing their heads, excusing them gently so not to make them feel even worse as they are left alone. “Goddamn you’re worst than Wenhan— he shows up undetected sometimes.” He huffs, pacing around her office floor. “You know you can’t just come in here and start screaming at me— let alone make the poor security chase after you.”

“How much did she see—“

“Everything, including the dead body. And my hand is injured aren’t you gonna ask about that?” She responds nonchalant, eyes still on her work. Bohyun wants to snap her hands in half, only to retract the thoughts after seeing it bandaged. “It’s been less than a week… it’ll take time to get used to— I told her what your family does as a pre-requisite, you know. Everything else that is your personal history with relationships, including that awful bitch you had previously, no. She told me she knew a little but not all of it. You should thank me, I made you look like a saint—“

“Fuck off, Minseo—“ she was about to say something sarcastic but was cut off by his frustration. “How would you like it if I told everything to Wenhan??”

She chuckles, amused at the thought. “He knows everything about me. Which reminds me, you should go before he gets here—“

“I don’t care, I have your time, he can wait.” Bohyun was stressed. He wasn’t sure how to come to terms with it all. “I just don’t understand how you’d be swayed so easily.“

“Excuse me, she’s the one who showed up unannounced and somehow got lost at a security area. Don’t blame me,” she rolls her eyes at the thought. Of course you’re going to choose someone you deeply care for. “It’s either I call the cops or kill her—“

“That’s not funny—“

“Yes but you know you would’ve done the same thing if our lives are breached by an outsider.”

“How long will you keep thinking she’s an outsider??” He argues, slamming a hand on her desk. Minseo doesn’t budge but she does stop her work to pay full attention. It’s rare to see Bohyun in such an agitated state. “Can’t you just trust her? I don’t understand why you’re adamant of our relationship. It’s not very nice.”

“You already know how I feel about Elena, that was never a secret between us.” She prompts a hand on her cheek, trying to be of comfort some way. “She’s a lovely girl. but you know she was going to find out one way or another and her curiosity got the best of her. Did you think I want that? Did you know why she was there in the first place? She wanted to surprise me and give a lunch box for the book party next week. In the right place at the wrong time, she … found out.”

Bohyun’s annoyance falls through, his palms cover his face and slides it down in annoyance. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

“You’re frustrated. I get it. I’m sorry you had to find out this way though.”

Minseo sits in silence with a thin-lipped smile, waiting for him to say something else. She lets him be for awhile before he decides to figure it out on his own. they escort each other to the lobby, with their stance holding power over each of their perspective specialties. Both were children of the rich and powerful.

“I can’t believe she saw you… Id feel less bad if it was me.” His hands dig in his pocket with a huff. “I’m still glad you’re both okay.”

“She won’t talk. I know that for a fact.” She looks up to him with a smile as they leave the elevator. “Can’t wait for next week though.”

Bohyun rolls his eyes, seeing how out of touch this reality was for someone not in their world. He was looking at his watch to kill time and finding ways to make amends with Elena. Minseo smiles for show again and himself— well— in a civil smile.

“I promise not to get Elena in any trouble. So long as she doesn’t do anything…” She holds out her pinky for him to take, and he links his with it. “I promise.”

“Yeah yeah, just— just at the party, please be nice… you can get a bit scary with that…”

“That— I can’t promise compliance.”

[thirstyandbeautiful]

Can’t Make a Hoe a Househusband, Pt. 2 Fuckboy!Michael AU

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine

Chapter 10: One Month Later (THE LAST CHAPTER)

It had ended up taking a month to wrap up all your shit.

Between the lease woes, your landlord being a dick about you trying to leave in the middle of the month- coupled with your boss softly demanding that you finish your assignments before you could leave your job...

A month.

A whole month you had to spend apart from Michael, and out of Monaco.

It hadn’t been all that bad, and you knew you had had a shit attitude the whole time, but you couldn’t help it. You had just wanted to drop everything and go, damned be the consequences. But you were trying to build a professional reputation, and leaving a major firm high and dry would not have helped you if anyone heard about it.

Your landlord though, he could go fuck himself.

“I just can’t believe he gave me such a hard time. Did I tell you he’s keeping my security deposit because he hasn’t found anyone to take over the lease?”

You dragged the packing tape across the top of the box you had in front of you, your phone precariously balanced between your shoulder and your cheek.

“That is such a dick move. I can’t believe that’s even legal.” your friend replied.

“I know!”

“Hiiiiiiiii!!!!”

Your phone dropped from it’s spot and clanked on your no longer rugged floor. You cursed as you scrambled to pick it up.

“Sorry!” Daniel’s voice was much further away from your friend’s phone but just as loud.

“Jesus, he never is not on 100, is he?”

“Nope.” your friend laughed, “Sorry about that, he’s just getting impatient cause we’re supposed to go to your man’s apartment tonight for dinner, and someone,” she teased, “hasn’t gotten any attention cause I’ve been on the phone with you.”

The high pitched, dramatic puppy whine in the background made you shudder.

“Okay, weirdos, I get it. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Oh, are you sure?” your friend quickly asked, “I was teasing him, not you. I’ll stay on the phone for another hour.”

You took a deep breath as you surveyed what was left of your living room, “Nah, I better go.” There was still a fair amount of boxes that laid on the floor half opened, “I have to tape all these suckers closed for the movers.”

“Ooooooooo!!” Your friend’s excitement felt contagious, “When are they picking your stuff up?”

“Tomorrow!” you replied happily.

“Oh, I am so excited for you to come home.”

“Me too, me too.”

-

Michael sighed as he watched Blake take over the stove top, “You know I hosted dinner this time so I could actually cook, right?”

“Mhmm.” Blake hummed as he flipped the steaks again.

So much for that, Michael thought amusedly. Usually him, Blake and Daniel would get together for dinners once or twice a month. The only catch to them was that one of them had to actually cook, and while they’d all sworn to play their part, more often than not, Blake ended up with the short end of the stick. But he does fucking love it, Michael shrugged to himself as he went to check the table again.

“Did you see the new plates I got?” Michael called to Blake, only to instantly regret it when he heard the cackle that followed.

“Yeah, mate.”

He walked the short distance back into the kitchen area, “What’s so funny?”

Blake shot him a look over his shoulder, “You’re just soooooo...” Michael widened his eyes as he waited for Blake to find his words, “Domestic.”

A smile grew on Blake’s face as he watched a blush erupt across Michael’s face. They all knew, don’t know why the fuck I told them, that you were coming home. You weren’t here yet but you hung in the air around Michael for the past few weeks, and the boys couldn’t help but pick fun at it when they could.

Blake’s smile widened, “So, is she-”

The doorbell made Michael laugh as Blake grumbled to himself, “Oh no, gotta get that.”

Daniel’s girlfriend, your best friend, came along this time. It only slightly put Michael on edge. He knew how she had felt about him in the past, and while he wanted to change her perspective on him he understood that it would take time. Didn’t mean she didn’t make him nervous.

“Hi.” Daniel grinned from across the table where him and his girl had sat, directly across from him.

“You don’t think you should sit across from Blake?” Michael questioned, motioning to their friend who was seamlessly tuning them out as he plated food for everyone, “Poor guy is staring at the wall.”

“Better than his face.” Blake mumbled.

“Hey!” Daniel squeaked, “You think I have a nice face, right?” he asked his girlfriend bashfully.

She nodded in agreement and said something Michael couldn’t hear. He watched with a slight pressure in his chest as she laid her head on Daniel’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek. When Daniel turned his head, he caught her lips with his own, kissing her only semi inappropriately at the dinner table.

“Hey!” Michael called to them.

“See? Wouldn’t you rather have the wall now?” Blake deadpanned as he cut into his food.

“We’re all going to have to face the wall when his girlfriend” Daniel dragged the word out like a child would, “comes home. Probably going to fuck on the table during dinner.”

Michael felt his dick harden a bit at the prospect.

“Mate, are you fucking kidding me.”

Michael looked up, “What?”

“Why did it look like you were considering it?” Daniel groaned, “Oh my god, we’re never eating here ever again. Who knows what surfaces they’ve defaced.”

“Wow, big word.” Blake commented.

“Shut up.”

Michael motioned to your friend, “Did you teach him that one?”

“I think I used it last week.”

The boys erupted in laughter at your friend’s willingness to chuck Daniel under the bus. Daniel sat there, muffling his own laughter through the ugliest, most dramatic pout Michael had ever seen.

“Oh, man. I do like you.” Michael nodded at her.

“Yeah? I haven’t decided on you.”

Michael looked quickly down at his plate, feeling the heat that had landed on Daniel redirect to himself. Daniel laughed, and quickly lifted the mood.

“Yeah, isn’t your girl coming home?”

Michael grinned, “Yeah, mate. Few days now.”

“Oooooooo,” Daniel teased, “he’s got that big smile, look at him all in love.”

His girlfriend shoved him, “I think it’s cute,” she turned to look at Michael, “and you seem like you won’t be an asshole and fuck it up this time.”  

“I won’t.” Michael nodded at her.

Blake took over the conversation from there. Michael couldn’t tell whether Daniel dating your best friend made Blake more nervous than it did him. Your friend was very nice, but fuck, she could be ruthless. Michael stole glances at her while they ate and talked about their work grievances.

“I swear, it’s like they’ve gone color blind sometimes.” Daniel droned on and on about a mistaken paint job as Michael zoned out.

He could imagine you here at the dinner with him so easily. A small smile tugged at his mouth as he imagined you sat beside him. It would be a little tight, but with his bench seats, he’d happily eat with one hand if it meant his arm could be curled around you.

Could sit her in my lap.

He dismissed that thought as quickly as it came.

He meant it when he said he was going to work on your relationship. Cause that’s what you had now, it wasn’t about being physical, it was about more because that’s what you had. That’s what had always been there.

“Oi!” Michael looked up at Daniel before he realized his phone was ringing on the table, “You gonna answer it?”

All it took was a glance at his screen before he was up out of his seat and headed towards his room to answer your call. The chorus of teases over his shoulder followed him the whole way but nothing could ever ruin a call from you.

“Hello my darling.” He happily chirped.

Your giggle was magic to him, like a shot of espresso straight into his blood stream, “Hi there, dinner didn’t start yet, did it?”

He hummed, “Yeah, but I don’t care.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I’ll call you later.”

“Uh, no.” Michael quickly spoke to avoid you hanging up on him, “I’m here, all yours, honestly they were torturing me anyways so you’re a really welcome distraction.”

You laughed, “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Michael smiled and rubbed his sweaty palm over his pants, "I've been thinking-"

"Uh-oh"

“When are you coming home?” He blurted out.

“Two days.”

“Fuck, wasn’t it two days like yesterday?”

“So impatient.” you teased before adding, “I miss you.”

“I miss you,” he answered, “and I really can’t wait for you to be home. I already got something planned for your first night back-” he rushed the words out quickly.

You laughed, “First night back? Have you already forgotten our rules?”

“No, no, you’re telling me and yet you have your mind in the gutter-”

“Me?” you laughed.

“I’ll have you know I have plans that fall perfectly within our relationship building rules.”

You scoffed, “Well, I’m glad you remember them.”

"Remember them? They’re seared into my brain, sweetheart.” Michael snickered, “We just broke up for the third time, and you know, third time’s the charm."

“So we should stay broken up?” you quipped.

“No!” he groaned, “This means we’re done breaking up, and your handy rules are going to make sure of it.”

You paused for a moment, and braced yourself for the dread that never came. Instead, a kind of soft stillness spread down your spine and curled into your gut.

“Okay.” There was another brief pause, and you could almost imagine Michael in your head. Him and his goofy smile, your easy agreement never failed to melt him, “Pick me up at the airport?”

“Of course.”

-

True to his word, Michael didn’t try anything when you got home. It was still a bit of a shock that you had a boyfriend. A boyfriend to pick you up and spin you around in the airport, a boyfriend to drive you to your new apartment and leave you at the curb with the promise of picking you up for a date later.

A boyfriend who had opened half of your boxes and taken out essentials for you and put your larger furniture where you would have struggled to put them.

All on his own.

Cause he wanted to.

Cause he wanted to for you.  

After you got over your initial shock, you worked to get the rest of your clothes out and back into your dresser and closets. You chose the most mundane, brain melting chores just to make the day go faster, to get back to him.

You were so fucked.

You caught yourself constantly laughing at yourself because you’d catch your smile in the reflection of your kitchen countertops, or in the mirror as you put on bit of makeup for your date. The excitement that bubbled up from your tummy was totally different than what you’d experienced in the past.

Any doubt that what you felt was purely physical was completely out the window by now.

Especially when he took your hand in his as he drove, and you practically melted into the car seat.

“Annndddddd, we’re here.”

You looked around at the dock and narrowed your eyes at him, “Is this the part where you kill me?”

“Ha, ha.” he said dryly, removing his seat belt, “Come on.”

You met him in front of the car and raised your arms to drape over his shoulders, “Where are we going?”

He nodded over your shoulder, "Come find out?"

"Only if you hold my hand." You dropped your arms in front of you, a smile stretched across your face when he easily grabbed your hand in his own and pulled you alongside him. You laughed when you saw his boat at the end of the dock, "So what is the date part? Cause I’ve been on this yacht... a few times."

Michael snorted at the way you so delicately worded all your trysts on his boat, "It's a surprise."

"I hope the surprise involves food."

“I always feed you, don’t I?” He stepped over the dock and held his hand out to you.

“I mean actual food, not your dick.” You quipped as you stepped on to the deck.

“Well excuse me, aren’t you usually hungry for both?”

You actually tripped at how effortlessly he joked about something so dirty but true. He was so casual. You hated the way he could say something so absurd but still get your heart racing, just as much as you loved it.  

“I’m just playing.” you almost jumped at how close he was to you, his breath brushed against your cheek before his lips pressed to your skin in a soft kiss, “None of that now, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

You whined as he laughed at how breathless you sounded. The moment sobered in seconds as he pressed his hand to your hip and turned you. He caught your lips against his and wasted no time, parting his lips to playfully press his tongue against your bottom lip. Meeting him, you softly moaned as you both rubbed tongues.

All too quickly, the heat rose like the waves the yacht was riding. There was no more soft touches, his hands gripped your waist as he squeezed you against him, your whole body pressed to the front of his as you breathlessly and loudly kissed. The wet sound of you sucking on his tongue and his resounding groan into your mouth filled the air around you while excitement pooled in your gut at the hardened pressure against your stomach.

In an immaculate show of self control, Michael’s arms loosened around you and he dropped his head back. He blew air into the midnight sky above you.

“Come on, we need to get out there.”

You nodded and let him go, letting him go to the captain’s deck to direct the crew to wherever you were off to.

When he returned, he fulfilled his promise to feed you food, and you both had some wine on the deck. The boat had been moving for about an hour when you’d finished, as did the movement of the boat.

“Oh, are we here?” You asked, looking out into the darkness around you. There was nothing but open water around you.

“Mhmmm.” Michael hummed as he wrapped his arms around your middle and pressed himself to your back. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, “We’re here.”

You turned in his arms and kissed him softly, “What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see.” He answered before he dropped his head back to look up at the sky.

You looked up for a moment, nothing visible but the glow from the bright lights on the deck. When you looked back down in front of you, you felt your self control loosen. While Michael had showed restraint, you watched the cords of his neck tighten and loosen. Leaning forward, you raked your teeth down the front of his neck.

“Fuck!” Michael groaned as he quickly fisted your hair and yanked your head back so you couldn’t even see him. All you could see were the damned lights above the deck.

And suddenly those went out too.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you struggled momentarily to adjust to the sudden darkness. But when your vision returned to you, your mouth fell open.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Michael rasped.

You ignored the slight edge to his tone, and the heat between you, in favor of the sparkling sky above you. It was breathtaking.

“Is this-”

“Yup,” he nodded in your peripheral vision before he gently untangled himself from you and took your hand, “come here.”

The floor of the deck softly glowed blue so you could see where you were going without the large spotlights that had been on. You let yourself be led to the couches in the center of the deck and sat down in the comfiest spot. Your cheeks colored as he winked at you, no doubt remembering the first time he tasted you in the exact same spot.

“Nah,” he warned, even though you weren’t sure if he meant it more for you or himself, “come.” He shook his finger at you as he pulled you down beside him and guided your legs over his lap.

Curled into his side, your hand and head on his chest and your legs bent snugly in his lap, you couldn’t imagine a better place to be. You hummed happily as he stroked your back with one hand while the other held your hand.

“Michael,” you softly got his attention, feeling your eyes tear up, “You really believe we’re endgame?”

“All the effort I’m putting in, you better be.”

You scoffed and smacked his chest, “You’re so sure.” you stated softly.

“I mean, how many more times can you fuck it up?”

“Oh, please!” you scrunched your face at him, “Pretty sure it’s your turn to fuck it up this time.”

“Oooo,” Michael blew air into your ear like a jerk, “better start brainstorming now.”

“I’ll kill you.” you deadpanned.

Michael laughed hard and gripped his chest with one hand before sobering, "If there was ever anybody meant for me, it's you."

“Booooo!” You groaned.

“You make me feel alive.” He wrapped his arms around you, "You give me a reason to be better, to do better.”

The way he looked at you, so earnestly and wholeheartedly, melted your heart and made you shift your behavior. You couldn’t play off his affection forever, and you needed him to know how you really felt.

This is how it starts, and keeps going.

You reached for him and gently placed your hand on his cheek. You smiled at him as you felt him lean into your palm. You looked down for a moment before you worked up the courage to look into his eyes and open your mouth.

"All I've ever wanted was a place to belong.” You started, “Somewhere I could call home.” you bit your lip as he saw you, “And for the longest time, I thought it was anywhere but here. I thought I’d have to escape this place, go out of Monaco, find a home, a real home.” You took a steadying breath, “I never once thought home wouldn’t be a place, but a person.” Michael kissed your palm gently, and never looked away from you, “You gave me that, you gave me a home. Michael, you are my home."

Michael blindly reached across your lap and squeezed your other hand in one of his as he turned his whole body toward you.

“And I was never into this, never into relationships. I thought they were a lie, a balm for how much life could suck, and even then, how long would it last? What was the point in forever? I never bought into it. Until you.” Your words flowed like water now, "I thought I had the worst luck, until I met you." You were breathless, and struggled to put your racing thoughts into coherent sentences.

Michael gently shushed you as your cheeks heated, your words caught up with your mind. You resisted the urge to throw yourself off the boat.

This is how it starts, and keeps going, you reminded yourself again.

Instead of judging you, Michael wiggled his eyebrows as his finger hooked on the chain of your necklace, “Am I your royal flush?”

You laughed, all the anxiety in you drained away, “Fuck, what am I doing committing to enduring these cheesy lines?” You whined.

“You’re committing?”

“Michael.”

“Wowwwwwwwwwwww.”

You huffed, “So, what’s the plan?”

Michael kept the adorable look of confusion on his face, “There’s supposed to be a plan?” His eyes widened, “Please tell me there hasn’t been a manual for you all this time and you’re only just mentioning it.”

You rolled your eyes, “You couldn’t handle me even if i came with instructions.”

“I don’t want to handle you,” his voice softened, “I just wanna be with you.”

“Is that the plan?” you asked.

He nodded, “Stay.” he spoke barely above a whisper, but his eyes were intense, and you felt more full than you ever had in your life.

“I can do that.”

[bambikisss]

:: GOT ME CRAZY (IN LOVE) :: PT2

Jaebeom was one of the newest inmates in the Seoul Prison, and with all of the new inmates, he had to go through psych evaluation… you just so happened to be the one doing it. Will you find the truth on why he was really there or will be one of his newest victims?

Story Warnings: blood, violence, mentions of murder, slight mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of self-harm

Smut Warnings: choking, degradation, oral (male/female receiving), unprotected sex (keep it safe people)

Chapter 2: Exploration

You returned the next few months every other day. You two had become so close that he admitted that you coming was the highlight of his week. The small confession made you smile and blush. He had also gotten to the point where he was so comfortable that he offered information, rather than you having to pull it out of him. He hadn't mentioned why he committed the murder, only things surrounding his life; his parents, his cats, his friends.

He seemed like such a normal guy, but the image of him being so normal left you every day when a guard came in and rushed him out to put him in his cell for "everyone's safety." Everyone acted like he was this big serial killer but to you, he was just this man who liked cats and sang while he painted.

You did the same thing you always did when it came to appointments; come in, flick off the flirty guard, meet with Jaebeom for an hour, then leave. This would be the third month of meeting him. You actually had ended up looking forward to it, like meeting a friend for coffee or tea. As usual, you entered your office and placed the tazer into your desk to not alarm him, then rang the guard so he could be let in. Within a few moments, he would come in, sitting in the same uncomfortable chair with a smile as the guard would look at him like he was insane. Before you could say anything, he placed a small origami cat, a proud smile on his face. "I made it for you. I mentioned last session that I was working on my origami skills and thought you may like to see my progress," You smiled, picking up the cat and examing it closely. You were happy that he was comfortable enough to give you gifts, but knew that if the guards or your supervisor saw it, they'd both be in trouble. You placed it back down before offering him some praise, his eyes lighting up with your appreciation before he leaned back into his chair, manspreading as he usually did.

You guys talked more through the hour session, talking about his recent activities, his new cell roommate named Jackson who was the happiest guy he had seen in a while, among other things; how lonely he felt because he wasn't allowed to eat with other people still and was always chained up heavily.

You were writing down what he was saying when you heard him stop talking, your eyes moving up to meet his. "Why does the prison keep me in such a high-security area? Am I a monster or something?''

You could feel his heartbreak, his fingers fiddling with the chains that weighed down on his hands and now his heart. You also wondered why, getting up subconsciously to comfort the man, leaning down to hug him. He must've been surprised because he stiffened before relaxing, his arms hesitatingly wrapping around your waist as he returned the affection. That was the first time you had realized you were gaining feelings for him.

Once he left you once more, you met with your supervisor. You had some questions about your other patients but his first question was about Jaebeom. "Has he cracked, yet? I need some sort of explanation because his whole good guy, quiet guy act is bothering me." You stared at your supervisor in disbelief, watching as he made you both some coffee. You didn't know what he meant when he said that, but didn't have time to think about it when the lights over the office came on, red filling the room to show that there was a fight. Your eyes widened as you heard a guard yell at Jaebeom to move, you rushing out to see what happened despite your supervisor's words. You ran as fast as you could with your heels on, following the loud yells from the prisoners gathering and the guards yelling. You were about to turn a corner when you felt a hand clasp over your mouth, pulling you into an empty hallway.

You tried flailing against the man's touch, mad that you hadn't listed to your overprotective father and didn't take your pocket knife and pepper spray with you.

"Y/N! Stop, it's me!''

You stopped struggling against Jaebeom, who was not in the mob of prisoners or in the fight. He was instead in the empty hallway with you, holding you so your back was against his chest. You cleared your throat, looking up at him before moving away from him, your hands hurriedly fixing your outfit as he chuckled. You could've smacked him if you didn't find him so attractive, asking him what he was doing. He shrugged, moving so he was out of the window's view. "I saw you running out and got worried you would get hurt so I thought to hide you in here so you didn't get hurt," He admitted, rubbing his neck. You were shocked to see how he was acting, not understanding why he did it. He must've noticed how you were confused, so he pulled you so you were once again flush against his chest, looking down at you with his dark eyes. You'd never admit it to him, but under the red light of the alarm, he looked like a sin. His adam apple bobbed as his hand moved up from your wrist to your shoulder, then slowly down to your waist, as if he was trying to see how far he could go before you shove him. You gulped, letting his hand move, much to his delight. He leans down, his breath carefully hitting against your lips. You understood what he was hinting at, giving into the drunken feeling as you both connected your lips, your brain immediately becoming fuzzy as your lips molded well with his. He smirked into the kiss, picking you up before pinning you against the wall, his lips burning as he moved down to your neck, licking a long stripe to your collarbone before he returned his lips to your skin. You were no stranger to kisses and foreplay before sex, but he was making you feel so light-headed and you couldn't focus. Just as fast as the moment had started, you felt your legs unwrap from around you and return to the ground, then lips and heat leave your body. You opened your eyes, scanning the room for Jaebeom, only to see the double doors open, one of the guards question if you were OK or hurt due to your ''shruvled up and exhausted '' looking appearance. You couldn't find the words to give an excuse, only trying to think about where he went

and when could you get another taste.

[ermakeys]

An Essential Aspect Of Gravity Is Not Being Afraid To Fall

This is the final chapter, chapter 5.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

AO3

Chapter 5: Beyond

A final message.

An image of Kaert sprang to life.

Kaert sat in a recliner chair with his feet up and Vaar’ika, stretched out beside him. He smiled as his trembling hands, ran over Vaar’ika’s head and neck. He looked frail and tired, but alive.

“I’ve set up the droid, father,” a voice announced. The speaker was out of view of the camera and Kaert looked up with a small frown. “I have some work to do, so I will go into my office and return in an hour.”

Kaert shook his head and muttered, “I don’t see why I should make this. I’ll be off-world again soon.”

“You promised you’d only leave if your health improved,” the feminine voice continued in a stern tone. “If your health continues to deteriorate, you’ll thank me for having made this for Aran.”

He grimacede and the woman off-frame sighed. Dimly the sound of footsteps and a door opening and closing could be heard and Kaert grumbled under his breath for a moment before rubbing a hand over his face. He focused on the camera and made another face.

“My name is Kaert of House Rovhoss,” he declared in a slightly petulant tone. “I am making this recording in case my health does not improve and my daughter does not want to be the one to explain everything to my grandchild why I did what I did.”

He smirked.

“Aran, by the time you see this you’ll be a fully recognized member of House Rovhoss. Mandalore will have gained a new warrior that the Duchess will need to be wary of,” he drawled and scoffed at the mention of the ruler of Mandalore. “They won’t be pleased when they see you wearing your beskar, but kark them. House Rovhoss is powerful enough thanks to our role in the war that the current government can complain and that will be all they can do. The New Mandalorians are such hypocrites. Only marginally better than Death Watch.”

Kaert glanced down at Vaar’ika and smiled softly. He rubbed her head and murmured, “When my part in the war was over, I was lost for a while. Vaar’ika helped ground me and yet I felt like I had no purpose. Until you hid on my porch, Aran.

After years of just surviving, I felt alive when I took care of you. I helped forge you into the warrior you became to hunt the monsters that dared darken your life. I had direction and the fire to help change something again.”

He looked up at the camera again with a grin.

“Without you, I would have faded away. I would have been nothing more than a forgotten name in the Rovhoss family register. Remembered only by my daughter and perhaps Jango and his son.”

Kaert let out a bark of laughter, loud enough to startled Vaar’ika. He shushed her, rubbing at her ears until she settled down again and he chuckled, “Boba is a little firecracker just like you. I think you’d get along very well.”

He fell silent for a moment, smiling to himself.

“My fondest memories are of Shevla and you, Aran,” he admitted and lowered his gaze. “Shevla gave me the courage to fight for what I believed in to secure her a future. You needed someone to help you become strong enough to fight your demons.”

He cleared his throat and avoided looking at the camera.

“Both of you have grown to become wonderful and strong children of Mandalore. I am proud to call myself a father and grandfather to both of you.”

He swallowed, opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“And that was also why I had to do this quietly,” he continued, voice cracking with emotions. “I know you have… mixed feelings about Mandalore. By having you become a foundling to Shevla, you will have the right to return to Mandalore, if you ever chose to.”

Kaert slowly raised his gaze to meet the camera and his eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“I am old, Aran. Just like Vaar’ika. Shevla has made a name for herself here and secured our house. You have your friends and connections all over the galaxy and I can’t keep up with you anymore. If anything should happen or you ever need aid, I need to know that someone of mine will be there for you. As a full member of House Rovhoss you gain more rights and protections than you had before.”

He snorted, wiping at his eyes with one hand.

“And some responsibilities unfortunately.”

Kaert sat there for a few minutes, staring ahead and thinking. Finally, he shook his head and grinned.

“Hopefully, you’ll never have to see this silly recording Shevla made me do,” he drawled with a roll of his eyes before sobering with a deep breath. “If you do, well, I will know you forever. I will keep both of you in my heart even beyond this life.”

He sat up with a grunt and frowned at the camera.

“I will attach a file to this recording for you, Aran,” he explained as he pulled a datachip from his pocket. He waved and the camera rolled closer before stopping before him. Kaert fiddled with something before there was a chime of something having been uploaded. “Shevla would find this information interesting, but ultimately useless as she never fully trained in the way of the warrior like you did.”

Kaert smirked down at the camera.

“Just consider this a little gift from your grandfather. Something you could use to change this galaxy for the better if you chose to. No one would miss Death Watch anyway.”

He stared into the camera with a smirk.

The recording shut off.